I Know You Mean Well, But....
I share a lot on social media. Some people might say I share too much. You might be surprised, though, to know what I don't share.
Anyone who's suffered with depression knows how bad it can be. I suffered with it for quite a bit of my life, but seriously battled it. Those bad thoughts were always there, but I managed to bury myself in my life and the lives of those around me. When I helped people in various ways, I felt useful - like there was a reason I existed. After my daughter's suicide, I have been speaking quite vocally about grief, loss, suicide, and addiction. I don't shy away from it or hide from it.
Even before her death, I knew my life was changing, and that I would need help coping with it. My parents were elderly and when my mother passed away, I could feel the darkness reaching out to grab me. For that reason, I was already on medication when my daughter committed suicide. Since then it's been trial and error with what can help me make it day by day. Some days are better than others.
One thing that I've always needed is time alone. I like geocaching because I can do it with friends or alone. I can choose to go to the ocean and take a break. I can take a drive through the mountains. I can stop when I want and do what works for me, mentally. I need that time alone, though. It's some of what helps me recharge.
The fear of that mental break being stolen from me is largely what has stopped me from opening up completely to people who want to help me. There are times that I have been close to the edge. One time I was intent on doing it, and just managed to hold on long enough that the darkness went away and I could "pooh pooh" the concerns. I didn't want to lose that autonomy if I was going to live. I had to be able to take a drive on my own without being monitored. I had to be able to be in my house by myself without anyone having an eye on me every minute. I had to be able to say I was going to visit my cousin, or a friend, without people thinking I needed a driver because I might drive myself into a lake.
I couldn't live that way. I would be pushed more towards suicide.
Which is why Facebook's suicide reporting feature is useless, at best, and annoying in the very least. You see, if you are not going to call the police and have them do a welfare check on that person, all that happens is they get a lot of annoying pop-ups about getting help as they try to work their way through the darkness. It didn't happen to me, but to a friend of mine this week. Someone wasn't concerned enough to call the police, but just to annoy the fuck out of her.
You're not helping. You're not. Maybe you've eased your conscience if something happens. Hey, I created a lot of annoying pop-ups for that person - I did all I could.
I've had the police at my house the night Robin Williams killed himself the same way my daughter did. Thinking he was doing a good thing, he asked me to willingly surrender my guns. I did, and got them back the next day. It was all to keep the bad thing from happening though. The worst thing I could think of was losing my autonomy. I was tempted to say to him "are you going to take my yarn stash from the basement? I could go that way. I could take pills. I could slash my wrists." I was smart enough to hold that back. In taking the guns, though, the officer felt he was doing something. It was the same ineffectiveness as reporting someone to Facebook.
You might mean well, or you might just be trying to wash your hands of a situation and say "I did all I could". If you're really concerned and it's possible, pay a visit. I've said before, people need company - just someone to sit with them, watch a dumb movie, and make them realize there is laughter in the world again.
Anyone who's suffered with depression knows how bad it can be. I suffered with it for quite a bit of my life, but seriously battled it. Those bad thoughts were always there, but I managed to bury myself in my life and the lives of those around me. When I helped people in various ways, I felt useful - like there was a reason I existed. After my daughter's suicide, I have been speaking quite vocally about grief, loss, suicide, and addiction. I don't shy away from it or hide from it.
Even before her death, I knew my life was changing, and that I would need help coping with it. My parents were elderly and when my mother passed away, I could feel the darkness reaching out to grab me. For that reason, I was already on medication when my daughter committed suicide. Since then it's been trial and error with what can help me make it day by day. Some days are better than others.
One thing that I've always needed is time alone. I like geocaching because I can do it with friends or alone. I can choose to go to the ocean and take a break. I can take a drive through the mountains. I can stop when I want and do what works for me, mentally. I need that time alone, though. It's some of what helps me recharge.
The fear of that mental break being stolen from me is largely what has stopped me from opening up completely to people who want to help me. There are times that I have been close to the edge. One time I was intent on doing it, and just managed to hold on long enough that the darkness went away and I could "pooh pooh" the concerns. I didn't want to lose that autonomy if I was going to live. I had to be able to take a drive on my own without being monitored. I had to be able to be in my house by myself without anyone having an eye on me every minute. I had to be able to say I was going to visit my cousin, or a friend, without people thinking I needed a driver because I might drive myself into a lake.
I couldn't live that way. I would be pushed more towards suicide.
Which is why Facebook's suicide reporting feature is useless, at best, and annoying in the very least. You see, if you are not going to call the police and have them do a welfare check on that person, all that happens is they get a lot of annoying pop-ups about getting help as they try to work their way through the darkness. It didn't happen to me, but to a friend of mine this week. Someone wasn't concerned enough to call the police, but just to annoy the fuck out of her.
You're not helping. You're not. Maybe you've eased your conscience if something happens. Hey, I created a lot of annoying pop-ups for that person - I did all I could.
I've had the police at my house the night Robin Williams killed himself the same way my daughter did. Thinking he was doing a good thing, he asked me to willingly surrender my guns. I did, and got them back the next day. It was all to keep the bad thing from happening though. The worst thing I could think of was losing my autonomy. I was tempted to say to him "are you going to take my yarn stash from the basement? I could go that way. I could take pills. I could slash my wrists." I was smart enough to hold that back. In taking the guns, though, the officer felt he was doing something. It was the same ineffectiveness as reporting someone to Facebook.
You might mean well, or you might just be trying to wash your hands of a situation and say "I did all I could". If you're really concerned and it's possible, pay a visit. I've said before, people need company - just someone to sit with them, watch a dumb movie, and make them realize there is laughter in the world again.
Nailed it. Right. On. The. Head. Anyone who attempts to remove my autonomy, is in for the fight of their life. Not mine - I've been fighting for that, since forever. FB's "we are here to help you" BS is actually hilarious, in a dark way. I got bombarded with silly pop-ups of what hotline I should call 12 hours AFTER my post was reported...and it wasn't an "OMG, I'm going to kill myself right now" post anyhow. If I HAD been suicidal, those popups would have been waiting for a dead person to log in. The only person who can 'save' me, is me. When I share what my struggles are like, it's because I want people to know they are not alone, to know what it's like to have clinical depression, and to know what they can do to help if someone they love is suffering from it. That's all. I'm not seeking attention or asking anyone to save me. Thanks, my dear.
ReplyDelete12 hours later is useless. Anyone who has made the decision to die likely will, and if they post a "goodbye" on social media that is likely the end of that. Reporting it won't do a damn thing. If they are in distress, like I was that night, you have mere hours to reach them, at best. It's a joke to make other people feel better, that's all.
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