What really triggered my desire to talk was the death of a beloved actor, Robin Williams. The comments that flooded social media calling him selfish and saying that he just wanted attention or other negative comments just broke my heart. My first thought was, "They just don't get it." Then came the thought, "you never get it unless you experience it first hand".
Whether its someone we love that took their own lives, or us that have had the thoughts, desire, or have been in that black hole of despair and were saved by SOMETHING- it's us that get it. It's us that weep for those who take their lives trying to find relief.
In the October 2013 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, The apostle Jeffery R. Holland gave an amazing talk that I listen to almost weekly. "Like a Broken Vessel". He talks about the reality of mental illness. It is a REAL thing. Depression is SO real and he broke through "talk about not talking about it" rule, and spoke openly about mental illness.
"... today I am speaking of something more serious, of an affliction so severe that it significantly restricts a person’s ability to function fully, a crater in the mind so deep that no one can responsibly suggest it would surely go away if those victims would just square their shoulders and think more positively—though I am a vigorous advocate of square shoulders and positive thinking!
No, this dark night of the mind and spirit is more than mere discouragement. I have seen it come to an absolutely angelic man when his beloved spouse of 50 years passed away. I have seen it in new mothers with what is euphemistically labeled “after-baby blues.” I have seen it strike anxious students, military veterans, and grandmothers worried about the well-being of their grown children."
I'm going to go back to his talk in just a minute here, but I want to take a second and tell you my story. It's not action packed. It's not extreme or dramatic, but it's real, and it's true. Truth is, I'm terrified to even be sharing this because of the fear of what others will think of me next time they see me. I'm shaking. I ask that you don't see me for my story, but see me for what I survived and hopefully for those struggling out there too, this can maybe help someone.
My sweet baby Ashton was born March 27, 2013. He was perfect and amazing and still is. I just love that tiny human of mine.
Soon after his birth, I started feeling edgy, and extremely sensitive. My mom called me out one day and was like "You should talk to your doctor about a small dose of something- you may have postpartum depression."
Without a second thought, I texted my amazing doctor and he sent a prescription that day. I got it, and began taking it.
No big deal? I didn't think so either until someone said "you're letting yourself be ruled by a prescription? Why don't you just go out side or do something about feeling sad. It's not that hard. Just suck it up and do what the rest of us do. Fake it til you make it."
All of a sudden I felt like a complete idiot. I immediately stopped taking my medication about 3 weeks into the 3 month treatment and I fell harder and faster into a depression than I ever had in my life. I would be fine as long as Ashton was awake and with me, but once I was completely alone with my thoughts, I was haunted by things I hadn't thought about in years, more negative thoughts about myself and how "awful of a mother and home maker I am" and how I still couldn't "fit into my pre pregnancy clothes" and so many awful, awful thoughts about myself.
Here's where I made a mistake. 1. Stopping intake of medication without consent from my doctor. HUGE MISTAKE. 2. Allowing myself to care what that stupid person said. She didn't know my situation and I shouldn't have cared. But I did.
Over the next YEAR, I put on a brave face, and I pushed myself to the gym, and back to work (too soon after baby), I got out side, I spent way too much money on retail therapy and never once talked to anyone about how I was really feeling. Never once.
Finally, in January I decided maybe I would feel better if I took a few classes in school- maybe bettering myself would help.
One of my classes, we were requited to do a Suicide Prevention Training. We talked about signs in what to look for in people. (Which by the way, every sign and warning she would mention, I was seriously checking off every one of my personal feelings one by one that was in line with her check list. scary?)
She gave directions to pull out a sheet of paper, and do the following.
Write 3 Reasons to Live.
List 8 People that Would Miss You if You Died.
List 5 Life Events You Would Miss if You Took Your Life.
List 10 People You Could Call in Time of Crisis.
I did. I filled in all my answers. Class ended and I left. The entire walk to my car, I just thought- with all those red flags I checked off, should I get help?
But what would people think if I did?
I continued day to day feeling as if nothing was worth anything. My view of myself was awful. I had thoughts of "Ashton and Scott would be so much better off without me dragging them down." (<<< RED FLAG )
But I still didn't say a word.
I was surrounded in people that would tell me how awesome I was and that were so up for loving me and people who would call saying "I felt the impression you needed someone", and people would just show up at my house with treats wanting to talk and I just kept things light and fake until they would leave. - Even surrounded by so many people, I felt so alone, and completely unloved.
One night, I couldn't sleep. I got up to crochet and trying to keep busy, when the bad thoughts flooded me again. I was overcome with thoughts of suicide, and then worse thoughts like "You're such a failure already, if you even TRIED to commit suicide, you'd fail at that too." Just these AWFUL, AWFUL thoughts.
I prayed in my heart to help the feelings go away, and to have the courage to wake up Scott and tell him I needed help.. I couldn't physically even lift myself from the couch I was crying so uncontrollably. Then, I looked down on my coffee table and saw my notebook. I flipped as quickly as I could to that page with everything previously listed. At the bottom of my paper, it stated: "If none of this makes you feel better, call 911 immediately and get to a hospital".
I didn't even follow the feelings to TRY to commit suicide. I just went straight to Scott, woke him up and said "I need help. Will you take me to the hospital?"
He shot up panicked and asked if I had done anything. I told him I hadn't but I needed help. He immediately offered me a priesthood blessing and set out a plan for the next day. He stayed up until I was safely asleep, and when we woke up the next day, he helped me get up and out of the house and off to see doctors and professionals.
Words cannot describe the heroic act of my Scott that night. It seems so simple, but in reality, that was a life changing moment for me. I got a glimpse of not only his love and concern for me, but my Heavenly Fathers. Along with professionals, the right medication and church leaders, I've been able to move forward and get the help I needed. I was wrapped up in the arms of friends and family and helped by so many sweet people that didn't even know the impact of their actions.
It's gotten easier to cope with, but the reality is, as happy go lucky as I seem, I've been consumed by such an intense depression and anxiety - like I said before, its now under control, but my greatest fear is going back to where I was. I was so overwhelmed with pain that I couldn't focus on anything else.
With that long story told, I want to say that judging someone for committing suicide is wrong. It's not our place because we will never know the pain that they were going through. We will never know their hearts. As devastating as it is to lose someone, we cannot let anger get in the way. We have to love them and know that they are in the care of a loving Father in Heaven who DOES know their pain and does know their hearts.
I want to finish with a quote from the previously mentioned talk by Elder Holland:
"Whatever your struggle, my brothers and sisters—mental or emotional or physical or otherwise—do not vote against the preciousness of life by ending it! Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Know that one day the dawn will break brightly and all shadows of mortality will flee. Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says, 10 we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind."
We need to break the stigma and break the silence that surrounds mental illness and suicide. Learn, love and along with those- be kind to yourself as well as others.
I love you all.
