I have not been actively suicidal in some time but I have been thinking about the topic a lot. A popular mom blogger recently succumbed to her suicidal ideation. That, and my own history, have brought the topic to the forefront as I heal. I’ve spoken at length with a loved one about it (I am always grateful for his patience) and how the problem crept up on me early in my second marriage. In processing and healing the physiological and psychological changes brought about by decades of coercive control, I have made a lot of headway in understanding both why I became suicidal then and why I am able to avoid those dark intentions now.
That loved one sent an article from CNN’s website for my perusal. Such articles usually leave me wanting more substantive discussion. This one is good at starting the conversation about predicting suicide and recognizing signs of suicidal intent. The article also briefly tackles how family and friends (and even therapists) often approach support weakly despite their best intentions.
Nevertheless, it still has limited space to delve into this particular issue and, of course, it is an issue with many angles to consider. Every depressed person with suicidal ideation will have a different take, but I believe there are some fairly widespread experiences and needs. Late in the article, clinical psychologist Micheal Roeske relates a story as follows:
“Every time she would go to her mom and tell her that [she was suicidal], her mom would (say things like) ‘Oh, you’re so beautiful. Look at how you are with the horses,’” Roeske said. “And (the patient) said, ‘What it felt like was Mom was afraid of what I was saying and needed to distance herself from it.’
She said that therapists would do the same thing—you know, ‘create a positive gratitude list or correct your cognitive distortions.’ Finally, there was a psychiatrist that looked at her as she said, ‘I think I’m going to kill myself.’ And the psychiatrist said, ‘I think you might, too.’ And she said it was the first time someone was willing to be in there with her.” [brackets are my clarification]
Suicide prevention: Signs, risk factors and how to help | CNN
So that’s my jumping-off point.
I want to explain, at least in part, why this is detrimental. I think many times we can’t articulate why. The young woman quoted above got it partly right.
Perhaps most parents, like the mother of the girl mentioned, want it all to just be better for their child. We try to find easy answers because we don’t really have the tools to speak to depression or suicidal ideation. As implied by the article, if therapists don’t know, how can parents? There is no easy way to know how to “be” around the grieving and the traumatized.
As noted, my sibling has been very supportive and patient, allowing me literal hours to cry and bemoan my lot. Maybe it’s easier as a sibling than as a parent. The investment in who I am isn’t there. He didn’t raise me (though he had a hand as an older brother) and, obviously, he had no role in creating me genetically. I have no idea how I would have responded to my child had I had to take on the same role of “parent of depressed person” without my history. Certainly, there were and are aspects of my child’s life even now (she is an adult now) that I can’t relate to completely and I handled poorly at times; this is the human condition.
We can only work within what our own history (both familial and societal) teaches us until someone teaches us otherwise. The depressive, in an effort to protect their loved ones or avoid conflict, can rarely communicate what they need when they are younger or in the throes of their despair.
The need to fix things and absolve our fear (as an onlooker) are just two pieces of how this way of speaking to depression in general, and suicidal ideation specifically, can be detrimental. I can explain further because I’m an older survivor (so far). This, of course, is my response based on my experiences.
I think it’s important for our loved ones to truly internalize this.
First, let me say that it is absolutely okay and normal to feel frustrated with a depressed person.
However, trust me, we have already compared ourselves and our situation to everyone and everything. We know the score and rationally know that truth. We know we have talent. We know we aren’t hideous and worthless on the face of it.
However, exasperated and fervent assurances of “but you have this and that and you are so great” feel like admonishment (and even anger with us) for being unable to make use of all we have and can do. We are rational about our reality. Our reaction to that reality is different from a non-depressed person’s.
I trod water on that red-flag day in October 2019 and told myself all those things about myself—all the reasons why I should stay. Yet I was still able to say, everyone, but especially my then-husband, would be better off without me because regardless of my gifts, circumstances were such that I could not make a worthwhile life out of those gifts and was a burden without that. In addition, if our loved ones are angry with us (our sense and interpretation of the exasperation they show) for not making the most of our talents, then we are surely a burden to them by creating that emotion.
It is actually remarkably logical even if terribly wrong: When someone rolls their eyes at me or huffs at me when I am sad, I feel like I’ve pretty much nailed the fact that they are emotionally burdened by my pain.
So, no, we aren’t “stuck,” lazy, or just in need of a swift kick in the ass. Our reasoning is solid, just negative and exaggerated based on these three things:
1) chemical a.k.a. clinical depression
2) the tendency, due to either nature or nurture (or both), to believe that the feelings of others are of more value than our own, (people pleasing)
3) from those chemical changes to our brain, the conviction that the only way to “help” those we feel we are hurting, is to isolate ourselves or simply not exist. The whole thing has become a cycle of perception and response and perception and response.
So, what do you as a loved one or friend do?
- Tell us you love us. Not why. Not because we’re amazing or whatever. Just that you love us.1
- Hug us if we are up for it. Sometimes feelings are so raw that touch is like fire.
- Don’t let us isolate too long but don’t point out that we are isolating—just try to invite us to do stuff (walks, cooking with you, a movie) without commentary on our mood. (Again, the commentary feels like judgment & shaming.)
- Understand our isolation isn’t personal against anyone—we feel lost. We aren’t trying to hurt others. Sometimes that isolation is itself a cry for comfort. Sometimes it’s just “I need to be alone.” Impossible to know which without us telling you so, again, patience is needed.
- With regard to the above, ask, “Do you want to talk? Do you want company? Would you like to go do something?” If we don’t, accept it gently and do your own thing.
- Avoid diagnosing. For pre-menopausal women who suffer depression, yes, hormones bring these emotions more to the surface, but that only means we are stuffing them down and controlling them the remaining 21 days or so of the month. They aren’t gone and the hormones didn’t create those emotions. They are always there. They are always there. We can mitigate them somewhat when hormones aren’t wreaking havoc or toxic people don’t mess with us. It absolutely enraged me and made my feelings of worthlessness worse to have those feelings minimized to, “You’re on your period. Go exercise/meditate/calm down. It’s just hormones.” My feelings were valid, just seemingly exaggerated from having been under wraps until hormones (and the physical ills of menstruation) allowed me to rant and cry and rage. (I emptied a walk-in closet of clothes in a rage one day after my husband looked at his calendar and said, “Oh, it’s that time.” Fuck that! These are real feelings. Violently ripping the clothes out of the closet was irrational. The feelings, however, were completely rational—he had said something deeply hurtful and piled onto it with the “period” bs. And yes, you can laugh at that image.)
That last bullet applies to men and post-menopausal women as well: Please don’t diagnose and medicate us with aphorisms and memes. Invite us to do things with you or introduce us to new people, but don’t say, “If you would just get out more, lose weight, take better care of yourself, find a hobby, meet new friends, get a new job, etc., you would be happier.” That is all probably true. That is all about as easy and useful to us as if you had said, “If you would just fly to the moon on a unicorn and live in a golden castle with the person of your dreams, you would be happy.”
Suicidal depression is a beast. Cognitive therapy is marginally helpful for that beast. The truth is, I don’t have a solution at 59 years old, yet people keep telling me, “It’s easy, just [fill in the blank],” when I’ve been trying to get undepressed since 1996. Every fucking day is a struggle. Let me say that again. Every fucking day is a struggle (though 100X easier now than when I was married).
All I know is that the best things my loved ones can do for me are to make me feel loved, make my company feel wanted and my heart and mind at least a little understood. And don’t lecture me.
I know this isn’t easy. We can be hard to love and be patient with. For those times, as you would when a toddler is throwing a tantrum, walk away and cope with your own feelings. As with parenting, you will make mistakes.
We aren’t your problem. You aren’t our solution. You can be a detriment. And you can, happily, be of help simply by not blaming us for a condition barely within our control. 2
Lastly, and I speak solely for myself now, if you absolutely cannot abide by any of these suggestions, if you believe that I need to just snap out of it to fit within your boundaries, end the relationship. If you can’t stand my pain and the tedious work required for me to heal, then set the boundary and leave it be. I tire of explaining why this is so fucking hard and how thirty years have changed me. I am utterly exhausted from those years of trying to fit into someone else’s perfect little bubble and having to behave properly for him. I won’t do it for someone else. Take me as I am, or not at all.
If that is not possible for some reason, please at least tell me the boundary you have set. Don’t let me hang out here in a fog wondering why you don’t talk to me anymore or invite me to your gatherings, etc. It’s completely acceptable to set a boundary, but to let me walk into that invisible and ill-defined boundary on a regular basis and get slapped emotionally is unfair to both of us. I can’t guess what your boundary is based solely on being slapped one day and accepted (or even needed) the next.
1)Obviously, we need and want our work praised when we offer it for appraisal. I’m not saying ignore our creativity and intellect. I’m saying don’t use it as a verbal tool to “fix” our melancholy.
I have a friend who writes to me regularly. She is always uplifting and always supportive. She says things like, “I’m so sorry you went through that. I can’t imagine the pain that caused you to want to hurt yourself.” She has never said, “Don’t do that. You’re too talented, smart, etc.” She, very wisely and intuitively, keeps her praise for my talents utterly separate from her emotional encouragement. It makes all the difference in my emotional responses, written or felt, to her letters, comments, and emails vs. when the two are combined.
Likewise, I have had people in my life who have suffered huge losses (spouse, child) and their grief greatly resembles my depression at times. I don’t tell them to get out and meet people or volunteer or just get over it and ride a unicorn to the moon. I try to remind them they are loved and good. I know they do their best.
2) And that is a whole ‘nother ball of wax to be dealt with later.
Last Updated on August 28, 2024 by Lee Ellis
