With news reports over the past two days focused on the unfortunate deathby possible suicide of Junior Seau , this has made me think on two events that have marked my younger years and still affect those I live today. Many people see suicide as a coward's way or the person who commits suicide as being weak minded. Many people who think of committing suicide see the converse; they are being strong minded and sacrificial of themselves for the betterment of those that person feels they are hurting (both the one in the mirror and the ones they love).
For those of us who have chosen the profession of helping people through difficult times, I think it is part of that oath and responsibility to be mindful of when a client/potential client is in your office and literally at the end of their rope. These tough economic times have taken an unprecedented toll seen in many of our careers; one that we must be mindful of and watchful as "counselors" at law.
I unfortunately can speak from both frames of reference when it comes to suicide. When I was in my younger years, barely into my teens, my grandfather was going through a severe depression. He had a weekly ritual of dinner with our family and recently was released from treatment before one such dinner. I remember being upstairs getting ready for school the next day between Flyers periods, coming downstairs and asking where my grandfather was. The shock and horror that were on my parents' faces are as vivid to me today as they were that very moment. Soon we discovered that my grandfather had shot himself and left very detailed notes, instructions, paperwork, and the like. He had gotten a hold of a handgun my father had and used it upon himself. Most likely, my grandfather thought he was being sacrificial and saving his family the burden of having to care for him or watch him wither away in depression. More likely, he was too far gone in his own self-possessed thoughts of his dismay that the consideration of others was lost in the waves of depression he ultimately succumbed to. I was fourteen years old. I did not know any of this until after it happened. I did realize that I was the last to talk to him because before I went upstairs to jump in the shower, I saw him in his car out front of our house. "I'm going to a friend's and will be back soon." Those were his last words to me.
When someone is facing what they see as insurmountable odds, odds they can not bear alone and wish not to place upon those they care for; these fellow men and women are who need our help most. Suicide is truly a permanent solution to a temporary problem; because those who are successful in committing it are permanently taken away from us and those loved ones left behind are permanently scarred as a result.
I unfortunately did not learn the full measure of this lesson until later in life. When graduating high school, I had a chance to attend the United States Military Academy at West Point. I tried to be successful both in athletics (as much as a 5'5 on a good day body can allow) and academics; to be able to become a viable candidate for the academy. At the time, our family (like many before, during, and presently) dealt with alcoholism on the part of my father. At 18 I thought it may fall upon me to care for my brother and mother; the most productive way I saw to do so was to go to the academy, earn an income for my family while I studied, and then come out as an officer to continue to do so.
Ever hear the phrase "the best laid plans..."? Well, months before my report date; I was injured in a car accident. This was a devastating accident as another person lost their life and I myself went through a windshield. The Army was good enough to allow me to attend the Preparatory Program for a year to hopefully give my body and mind that time to heal. My body was badly damaged; damaged to the point that the Army sent me to Walter Reed Medical Center and determined that I had post traumatic stress disorder and slipped disks in my spine. I was found to be medically disqualified for active duty. Just over two months of getting my hair cut off and a uniform put on; I was sent back home. Funny how that hair still has yet to find its way back to the top of my head....
But I digress. 18 years old. Sent home from the Army. Friends and classmates enjoying their first years in college and my being sent home to try to find part time jobs while seeing more doctors than there are parts of the body. To say I myself became depressed is an understatement. To say that a daily hearing that I was a "failure" from the full borne drunkard my father had become would be an equal understatement.
And I did feel a failure; to myself, my family, and those who cared for me. I took the keys to my car and had every intention of driving it through a brick wall. Somehow I stopped myself from doing so. But, as tears were filled in my eyes and mind in a million directions; I hit something with the car on the way home. Luckily, by the grace of God, no one was hurt. That very occurrence became the proverbial final straw as I went home to find the biggest bottle of aspirin I could take. And take it all I did.
I don't remember leaving a note, placing calls saying goodbye or anything of the sort. I do remember being at my wit's end and overwhelmingly distraught; fearful of my father seeing what I did to the car and why I had done so. What followed is the most embarrassing circumstance a person has to face. My parents took me to the hospital. I was searched, stripped, checked inside and out (upside and down) to make sure I was no longer a danger. Afterwards, they sent me home with my parents.
Luckily I was only 18 and had parents to be sent home with. Take that level of sadness and responsibility felt and multiply it by thousands; because an adult with children, a career, success and the like only has that much more to bear when they are depressed and feel they can't go on. Like Biggie said, "Mo Money, MoProblems" .
At the time, I did not envision meeting the woman who I would call my wife. I did not envision the amazing gift that would be our daughter. I only envisioned the sadness that now, looking back, was truly temporary. What stands out is that when in the throes of being overwhelmed; you lose sight of how temporary your struggle can be.
Why am I sharing this? Because I have seen depression from all sides. From the mirror, loved ones, and from across the table while trying to counsel people facing difficult times. Both as someone who has taken an oath to assist others and as a father; the hand of God has guided me when I needed Him most. Every day I thank the Lord for doing so. The only way I can repay the gift of continued life is to share what I have gone through to hopefully help others understand that suicide itself is neither weak nor glorious.
And to those of you who have loved ones threatening to kill themselves, get them help. NOW. There are many a support group and caring professionals who can truly help one see how temporary their problem is and how permanent the hurt they will inflict if they do carry out what they threaten.
If you have had thoughts yourself to do so, reach for help now. Be it a doctor, priest, rabbi, family member or any trusted confidante. Get. Help. Now. Because I can assure you that what you think of doing will not create the ease you expect for those you love. They will not be better without you in their lives; their lives will just have this empty space in your absence whilst they heal from your permanent departure.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
~ David
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