"I'm sure that if you knew, you'd try to help in one way or another." - Mike Wallace

"People who don't know, who say it's (depression) self-indulgence, sound callous, but it's not callousness born of indifference; I think it's callousness born of ignorance. That kind of ignorance we've got to get rid of, and little by little I suppose, we will. You say to them, 'It's a pity you don't know. I'm sure that if you knew, I'm sure that if you really knew, not only wouldn't you say that, you'd try to help in one way or another." - Mike Wallace, On the Edge of Darkness

about ten years ago, i found this quote on the internet. mike wallace had decided to become vulnerable and go public about his battle with depression. as a result, i immediately purchased "on the edge of darkness" from amazon. it's become my bible, of sorts.

a few days ago, leo shared with me that a notre dame acquaintance had committed suicide. only 29 years old with a successful career and a baby due in november, this gentleman chose to end his life. i've known my husband for over 15 years, and this is at least the third suicide that has impacted him since we've been together. last night, he admitted to me that he is "thrown" by all of this.

i didn't respond to his comment. (perhaps this is my response, instead?) the truth is, mike wallace's words hold true: "if you knew, if you really knew..." one can't understand until he knows, really knows what the disease is like. unfortunately, the only way to know it is to actually live it.

when i was first diagnosed with depression in 1997, leo was completely unaware that i had been living in hell. i hadn't slept in weeks, although i was lying beside him every night. i was hiding food or throwing it in the trash to make it appear that i was eating. i was still going to work every day, even though my mind was racing with destructive thoughts.

i never actually contemplated intentional suicide. i do remember, however, driving on 220 west in freezing cold temperatures, snow flurries brushing off the windshield, and thinking... "god, i don't think i could do it (suicide), but if you wanted to make my car slide off the side of the road and crash into that telephone pole, it would be okay. at least i could rest."

if you don't know, you don't understand.

suicide is not a pointless or random act. to people who think about ending their own lives, suicide represents an answer to an otherwise unsolvable problem. it is a choice that is somehow preferable to the continued emotional distress which the person fears more than death. those in a suicidal frame of mind have tunnel vision; there is no solution, no way out, no light at the end of the tunnel. they are inundated with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness about the future. they are convinced that absolutely nothing can be done to improve their lives.

can you imagine this kind of existence? how horrifying.

i didn't know the young man who died this past week. and i can't even begin to wrap myself around the pain that his family is going through. but i do have an inkling of the amount of distress that he must have endured to bring him to this point. and i feel so sorry for him.

there are those who would call me selfish in my feelings for this gentleman; how could i feel sorry for a man who has inflicted such torturous emotion upon his loved ones? please understand, in feeling sorry for him, i am not discounting the pain that has been innocently thrust upon his parents and wife. it's just that...

if you don't know, you don't understand.

so, what is the answer?

depression is still, what i call, "a bastard disease". it's the dirty little secret affecting every family that no one wants to talk about. instead, denial causes the disease to manifest itself in substance abuse and alcoholism, in divorce and mid-life crises, in reclusiveness and loss of relationship. so, we have to get it out of the closet.

we have to disconnect the disease from shame.

shame causes those who suffer to hide. shame causes those who suffer to self-medicate. shame causes those who suffer to take their own lives.

i'm one of the lucky ones. medication and therapy have worked for me, thank God. i have not lost friends or co-workers as a result of my honesty about my disease. God gave me enough courage to ask for help. it took a great amount of suffering in silence to bring me to my knees, but i thank Him every day for the gift of my treatment.

this is not to say that i have depression licked. this is not to say that i am not terrified at the thought that someday my disease will take a ravenous turn for the worse. that for some inexplicable reason, my meds will cease to work, and i will find myself in a hole so deep that there seems no way out. such thoughts occupy the deepest recesses of mind daily.

for now, i try to be both helpful and hopeful. and i earnestly pray, that someday, there will be a magical key that unlocks a cure for all who suffer. no individual should have to endure such hopelessness, and no family should have to endure such tragic loss.