Suicide Isn’t the “Easy Way Out”

Suicide is now the 10th leading cause of death for all ages in the U.S. with a suicide occurring every 13 minutes. So in the time it takes me to do this rant, someone else will have died by their own hand. Suicide claims twice the number of lives as armed conflict. And among 15-24 year olds, suicide is the second leading cause of death accounting for almost a quarter of all deaths. You don’t this this is a crisis?

While depression is often seen as a “woman’s” illness, suicide among men is 4 times higher than among women. What’s even more heart-wrenching is that one in 100,000 children age 10-14 commits suicide each year. Our babies are killing themselves and we’re doing an damn awful job of getting a handle on this problem.

This isn’t just a North American problem. The U.S. shows up 50th on the list of suicide by country. So there are 49 other countries with higher suicide rates. Holy Hannah!

So if this is such a huge problem, if more people die by suicide than from breast cancer why don’t we have the same kind of effort being put out to help deal with this? If more people die from suicide than from natural disaster, why are we pretending this is same-old, same-old? And if more people die from suicide than from homicide, why do we have a state-paid investigative unit for murder and so little effort going to mental health?

Perhaps part of the problem is that we don’t want to talk about it. Suicide is mentioned in whispered tones. Depression is seen as a character defect. And along with other illnesses like bi-polar disorder and anxiety disorder, it’s not a real sickness anyway, right? Those people just need to get a grip on their lives.

When I tell people I’m a depressive they gasp. But you’re such a happy person, Gail, they say to me. Listen, depression is not the same as sadness. But it is our use of these two words as synonyms that may be part of the problem. I can be sad without being depressed. When my last marriage ended I was sad. When my best friend died, I was sad. When I had to leave the great group of people I worked with on set, I was sad.

When I was depressed I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t make a decision to save my life, I couldn’t cope with the barrage of thoughts that kept running through my head. I remember taking my children to school one day, and returning home, I sat on the bottom step of the staircase trying to decide what to do next. I was still there when it was time to go pick the kids up. That’s depression.

Depression is pain. Depression is an inability to see clearly because everything is shrouded in grey. Depression is all consuming. When someone finally takes their own life, it’s not a cry for help or the act of a chicken. It is the final step to end the pain. And until we get that through to the people who have never experienced depression, we’ll keep blaming the problem on the people who have killed themselves.

We know the need to survive is a strong one. People will go to extraordinary lengths to keep themselves alive. So when someone kills themselves, you have to know the pain was so huge it overcame the natural instinct for survival. It was the only remaining option.

Sometimes people kill themselves because they’re getting better. In the worst of their depression they had neither the energy nor the will power to plan their suicide. But as they begin to lift out of the fog, they get just motivated enough to ensure they never have to experience that kind of pain again.

Depression is an illness. Suicide is the result of that illness. And if you’re thinking to yourself, “Hey, I’m okay Jack,” watch out. According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, 1 in 5 people in Canada will experience mental health issues in their lifetime. Think about people you know and love. If it isn’t you, it’ll be one or more of them. You better start talking about it.