Anthony Bordain and Kate Spade’s Unexpected and Unnecessary Deaths

At least a half dozen times this week someone has initiated a discussion with me about Anthony Bordain and Kate Spade.

How unexpected and unnecessary their deaths.
Did I know what they could have been thinking?
How could they leave their children?
Why didn’t they ask for help?

Article after article has shown sobering statistics followed by the number for the suicide hotline in italics. I don’t doubt that the suicide hotline has saved lives but I think that its very existence is proof of how far we are from grasping the reality of mental illness and its treatment.

Here’s the thing about mental illness and suicidality. It’s chronic and debilitating. Sometimes it responds to treatment, sometimes not. Sometimes it gets progressively worse with no warning and sometimes it recedes. Sometimes the very medication meant to help you makes you physically ill. Those same statements can be made about cancer. Yet, when we hear a neighbor has cancer we send a card, drop off a casserole, mow their lawn or offer to watch the kids. Do we even hear about it if a neighbor is depressed? How much more supportive and gentle would we be with each other if we knew the girl next to us in class has PTSD and the professor resembles her attacker? Or the neighbor’s son had a psychotic episode at college last weekend? If we knew the new mom at church was suddenly and terrifyingly hearing voices telling her to hurt herself would we fuss less over the baby and more over her?

In our society people suffering from mental illness are isolated, left alone with their struggle, except (if they are the lucky ones in treatment) for the occasional support group and doctor appointment. There are no casseroles, GO FUND ME pages or organized prayer services. People don’t inquire about how their treatment is going in the carpool line. People who suffer from Bi-Polar Disorder, PTSD, anxiety and depression are the same people who get cancer but our society rushes to support one and emotionally isolates the other. The emotional isolation and shame around mental illness is so profound that we provide an anonymous hotline with the understanding that people are so embarrassed by their mental state they would rather talk to an anonymous volunteer than a friend or spouse. Can you even imagine an article about cancer concluding with a hotline number? Until we are able to discuss a diagnosis of depression with the same openness as cancer, we will continue to lose people to suicide.

Now, ideally the person suffering would reach out to loved ones, share their diagnosis and ask for support. However, given the very essence of depression coupled with shame that is unlikely to occur. Therefore, it is on the rest of us. To share our own struggles in order to free someone to share their own. To propose an action, not just “let me know if there is anything I can do.” Ask questions, even the personal ones.

Are you sad?
Are you sleeping?
How are you coping with the divorce?
Having a new baby is so hard, do you need someone to talk to?
I remember how overwhelming grad school was, are you doing okay?
Have you thought about going to an AA meeting? I’ll go to the first one with you if you want.
Do you think about hurting yourself?
Most importantly, do you need help? Do you need help getting help?
You aren’t expected to have the answers but you can be the person who helps them find their insurance card and schedule an appointment. You can sit with them in the waiting room and fill out paperwork. The small things can seem impossibly hard during a depressive episode.

Suicide is a last resort, a final desperate attempt to end suffering. Publishing a hotline number and telling the suffering to “reach out” in response seems trite. Let US reach out. Let us be the ones to say, “Hey sounds like school is rough this semester, want to get lunch?” Or, “Have you talked to your doctor about how little sleep you’ve been getting?”

Finally, a woman whose writing I enjoy said:
“People who need help sometimes look alot like people who don’t need help.” – Glennon Doyle
Please do not be fooled by fancy houses, fame, job titles or a beautiful spouse. Those things no more protect someone from mental illness than they protect someone from cancer or a heart attack. Suicide does not come only for the man talking to himself on the street at night. It comes for the comedian, the successful lawyer, the star football player, the class clown and the college student with a bright future ahead. It comes for the exhausted med student, the war vet, the journalist, the young mother and the CEO. It comes for our neighbors, friends and family. It is on US to make sure that when despair wreaks havoc in someone near us, they are not alone, ashamed and isolated.

To my clients who struggle: I see you. I’m glad you are here. Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey.
To everyone: I’m available, willing to text or talk about all sorts of things and happy to be of help if I can be.

Jacqueline Sweeney, MA
JS Consulting, LLC