How horrible that must have been. I'm so glad your son could come out of it and find for himself what life has to offer. It must seem like a nightmare now--pure torture for any parent.
Thank you for telling your story. I'm glad you can come out of it with that kind of hope. ❤️
What would you advise for those of us who've never been seriously depressed? What should we say or do when someone is swamped by sadness? Is there anything others can do that might make a difference, even temporarily?
Honestly? Almost nothing you say will likely make a difference. It's not like in the movies, where a few sentences suddenly changes everything and the person contemplating suicide suddenly sees the light.
I think being kind and thoughtful, not being judgmental or being the bearer of obvious solutions, works as well as anything. Sometimes they do need a hug and a feeling that they're worth helping, but that's a temporary fix. More often they're too busy struggling with their own demons to take to heart anything you might try to say to fix things.
It's painful to watch and to be powerless, but that's the reality. Anyone with suicidal thoughts needs professional help--immediate and often long-term. They'll fight it because it takes the kind of effort they're too exhausted to even think about, but they need it, and anything friends and family can do to facilitate it should take precedence over everything else.
Yes, be kind. Yes, try to get them help. But no, there wasn't much you could have done if it does happen.
I remember when Styron's book came out. People were shocked by it, as if a powerful and famous writer should never have succumbed to such human failings. And a man, at that.
I think I read it--or at least a part of it. I remember that tightness in my chest whenever I hit on a wrenching truth. If I didn't finish it, it may have been for that reason.
I read it as revelation and then as a tool because the writing is so fine and I was looking for short memoirs. Another one in that semester was Girl, Interrupted. What a contrast of voices!
I didn't read 'Girl' but saw the movie. My own visual introduction to the terrors of the mental health system came from the movie The Snake Pit with Olivia DeHavilland. (1948)
I'm sure. Books are usually much better than the movie version. One exception, or so I've heard, is The Bridge Over the River Kwai. Some say the book was a stinker.
The exception, one, anyway, is thrillers that are indifferently or even badly written. The Bourne movies are so much better than their source material.
Hi Ramona, What a thoughtful and beautifully written post. I get very frustrated with the quick fixes I read about and the medications that will "fix" the problem. They aren't the answer. What is? I'd guess each person is different and that there is a no one size fits all solution, other than listening, being there, and loving as you say.
Thanks for sharing your post as well as the other. I'm so fortunate to have never suffered from depression, nor known of anyone I care about struggling with it.
This is right on time Mona. Thank you so much for speaking on this issue. My sister, Leslee, died almost a year ago at 61- suicide by alcoholism. She was deeply depressed and a practicing alcoholic and I'm not sure what came first. I only know I was powerless to help her and I miss her to my core. That darkness and hopelessness surrounds us all. Profound humility........
I’m so sorry Lisa. My youngest sister died the same way four years ago at 62. She too was deeply depressed her entire adult life and turned to alcohol to cope which destroyed her. It was so very painful to witness. She was so dear to me, but the darkness was deeper than I could shed light on.
Thank you for writing this and sharing it with us, Ramona. Your description of your own depression, helped me to understand what it is like to suffer with such overwhelming pain that isolates us from others and from ourselves. I especially found this sentence confirming as to what it must be like: “We are a burden not just to ourselves but to everyone around us. Love (or the lack of love) has nothing to do with it. When we're in a depressed state we have turned inward and our demons have locked the door. We put on our outside face and pretend.”
My daughter died by suicide thirteen years ago at the age of 34. She had suffered from mania and depression since she was 18. That is a long time for such suffering. I know some of her pain, but will never know all of it because she would tell me and I have her journals. The pretending was especially hard for her because when she was well, she was so vibrant, fun, witty, and active. She lit up a room. Then, she would be hit again with that terrible heavy burden of depression while having to carry a load of being productive and pay her own way through life. If there is anything I wish I could have done for her, it is to have not have her suffer so. Her suicide was a shock because she was pretending so well at the time that all was well. It was a shock even as I lived in the shadow of the fear of it since her teens.
I don’t know if I will read Martha’s piece right now. I may come back to it. Your piece has touched me at the core. I do truly appreciate hearing of your own pain, but wish you had not had to suffer it and pray it never visits you again.
Sally, this must have been difficult for you to write, but I'm grateful to you for talking about your daughter, for sharing your own insight. I hope your thoughts of her happier moments help to crowd out the more painful times. Thank you again. 💕
Dec 6, 2023·edited Dec 6, 2023Liked by Ramona Grigg
Regarding Suicide:
For some at least, hope may be found in the fact that there is actually NO PROOF at all that life is better than death. The very widely held assumption that death is a tragedy has no scientific basis, and is instead better described as a kind of almost religious belief constructed mostly from fear and our universally shared ignorance.
The "death is bad" assumption may be true. It may be false. The truth of the matter may be something beyond our ability to imagine. Who knows? Certainly not me. But....
The absence of any data about death, or any ability to arrive at a credible theory of death, does open the door to an opportunity that seems worth exploring.
Consider a three year old child. They know almost nothing about life. So they make up stories about it. What else can they do? If the stories the child creates are uplifting and an asset to their living, their stories are rational. In the absence of any data, the truth value of a story become irrelevant, and the value of a story arises instead from how well it can serve the living.
Are these stories factually accurate representations of death? I have no idea. Do these stories prove anything one way or another? I don't see how they could. We won't get good answers from these questions, because they are the wrong questions. The right question would seem to be, do these stories help some people in their living? They pass that test for me.
When it comes to issues the vast scale of death, all of us are three year old children. So to the degree possible, let's embrace whatever happy stories we can make peace with, and try to be happy children.
There's no doubt that suicide victims see the end of life more preferable to life itself, but for others who desperately want to live, death IS bad.
You're right, nobody knows what lies on the other side, but I choose to live as if my death will put me in a dark void where I'll cease to exist so I'd better get the most out of these days when I'm still here.
I'm 86 years old. I have no illusions about living a long, long, longer life. Norman Lear died today at 101. As of a few months ago he was still charging ahead, still hopeful that our country would do the right thing, still laughing and making jokes and being Norman Lear. I envy him and hope I'll be doing the same, even moments before I stop breathing.
But this is about people who can't feel that way. And about the people who survive them and have loved them. Their deaths ended a life that should have been worth living. It may have been solace for them, but it most certainly isn't for those they've left behind.
The experience of dying is bad. Covid just gave me a taste a few days ago. An anticipation of death can be bad. A rejection of the inevitable can be a bad experience. All that is true. But shouldn't be confused with death itself, of which we know nothing. Babies come in to this world bloody and screaming. That doesn't equal life being bad.
Yes, awareness of death can improve life, agreed!
I hear you on the left behind.
We're using the word "death" in what seems different ways. You seem to be referring to our relationship with death, whereas I'm referring to whatever it actually is, or isn't.
I can't address what is or isn't. I just don't know. I live in the here and now and I have to say I like it that way. I'll leave it to others to ponder what it all means.
Ramona, thank you for this piece. You are so right that there isn’t a simple cure or answer for debilitating depression. If there’s one thing it’s taught me - and my friend’s recent suicide bears this out - we teeter along an uncertain edge, not knowing, not being able to control how we’re treated or how we treat ourselves. Acceptance of that existential uncertainty has brought me more peace than anything else - and sparks my enduring anger against those in power who simply don’t care about the inner lives of others and assume everyone can be fixed. For me, moments of being or joy are to be treasured, because they are moments, not some constant state to be achieved. 🙏🏽
Yes, I think it's why I revel in those moments of joy now. I've been to those dark places and I've watched as others I love have gone there, too. I feel sometimes as if I've been given a reprieve and not a gift. It could happen again, as swiftly and mysteriously as it started.
When Ed died I waited--literally waited--for the depression to come back. When it didn't--not to any degree I might worry about--it felt as if I'd been spared falling into that dark hole and I could look around and admire and appreciate where I was and what life could bring. While I'm sad and I grieve and I can cry at the drop of a hat, it doesn't feel like depression.
I'm thankful for that, but at the same time I know there are others who still struggle. I find it intolerable that the system is still so stubbornly entrenched in the idea that 'it's all in our head'. There has been some progress but not nearly enough. Mental illness is still a stigma. That should have ended long ago. Maybe around the time that cancer stopped being a stigma. Or erectile dysfunction.
One thing I’ve found is that if I allow myself to feel the full weight of grief and pain - as you did after Ed died - then it’s almost the opposite of depression. By that, I don’t mean happiness; I do mean being present in my life, feeling rather than suppressing or numbing or sinking into the gray void in which nothing seems good. That’s not a panacea or self-help tip - I just admire your resilience and acceptance ❤️
Martha, that's so wise: "I allow myself to feel the full weight of grief and pain...".
I think you may be right that often suppression leads to depression. I don't know, but my worst depressions came when I felt I had no control over my life anymore, whether or not that was true. I hid my feelings for so long they became toxic, diseased.
As I've said before, I think writing may have saved me. It forced me to feel things honestly, to analyze and reflect and to adjust if I didn't get it right.
Totally agree with your last comments that mental health needs to be treated as any other health problem. As a therapist I can say that clinical depression is a truly horrible experience for the suffer and those that love them.
Someday, I will need to tell my grandchildren (my husband & I are raising) more details of their mother’s death. For now, I’ll continue to grieve, process & chase joy.
Dinara, I just read your post about your daughter's death and I'm so, so sorry. Yes, you'll be doing all three--grieving, processing, and finding joy in your grandchildren. It won't be easy, as you well know, but there are so many who will be there for you, including me.
Debbie, thanks so much for sharing the piece you wrote. It's not easy to write out these thoughts but it means so much to so many others who can't find the words to articulate those thoughts that re-surface every time someone in the public eye succumbs to that terrible disease.
We need to keep talking about it. There is no shame in depression, as we both know, just as there's no shame in any other disease. We still need more enlightened education. Thanks again! ❤️
How horrible that must have been. I'm so glad your son could come out of it and find for himself what life has to offer. It must seem like a nightmare now--pure torture for any parent.
Thank you for telling your story. I'm glad you can come out of it with that kind of hope. ❤️
❤️❤️❤️
I’m so sorry for this experience you had, but I am grateful he has found his way. Blessings for continued healing for him.
❤️❤️❤️ My father killed himself a couple of years ago. Lovely post.
I'm so sorry, Mills. Just devastating. My heart goes out to you and your family. ❤️
What would you advise for those of us who've never been seriously depressed? What should we say or do when someone is swamped by sadness? Is there anything others can do that might make a difference, even temporarily?
Honestly? Almost nothing you say will likely make a difference. It's not like in the movies, where a few sentences suddenly changes everything and the person contemplating suicide suddenly sees the light.
I think being kind and thoughtful, not being judgmental or being the bearer of obvious solutions, works as well as anything. Sometimes they do need a hug and a feeling that they're worth helping, but that's a temporary fix. More often they're too busy struggling with their own demons to take to heart anything you might try to say to fix things.
It's painful to watch and to be powerless, but that's the reality. Anyone with suicidal thoughts needs professional help--immediate and often long-term. They'll fight it because it takes the kind of effort they're too exhausted to even think about, but they need it, and anything friends and family can do to facilitate it should take precedence over everything else.
Yes, be kind. Yes, try to get them help. But no, there wasn't much you could have done if it does happen.
I was afraid of that. Thanks for your honesty.
Yes - yes and yes. Kindness in all things, I think, but it isn’t enough sometimes to dispel the darkness.
This made me think of Darkness Visible, a brilliant, difficult book that my independent study CW students were amazed by.
I remember when Styron's book came out. People were shocked by it, as if a powerful and famous writer should never have succumbed to such human failings. And a man, at that.
I think I read it--or at least a part of it. I remember that tightness in my chest whenever I hit on a wrenching truth. If I didn't finish it, it may have been for that reason.
I read it as revelation and then as a tool because the writing is so fine and I was looking for short memoirs. Another one in that semester was Girl, Interrupted. What a contrast of voices!
I didn't read 'Girl' but saw the movie. My own visual introduction to the terrors of the mental health system came from the movie The Snake Pit with Olivia DeHavilland. (1948)
I saw The Snake Pit as a kid and it was terrifying. And that awful chorus of Going Home....
The movie of Girl, Interrupted was powerful, but it lacks what the book has: a riveting voice.
I'm sure. Books are usually much better than the movie version. One exception, or so I've heard, is The Bridge Over the River Kwai. Some say the book was a stinker.
The exception, one, anyway, is thrillers that are indifferently or even badly written. The Bourne movies are so much better than their source material.
This reminded me of the same book. My daughter who died by suicide found it discouraging and not helpful, but for me, it helped me understand so much.
Hi Ramona, What a thoughtful and beautifully written post. I get very frustrated with the quick fixes I read about and the medications that will "fix" the problem. They aren't the answer. What is? I'd guess each person is different and that there is a no one size fits all solution, other than listening, being there, and loving as you say.
Thanks for sharing your post as well as the other. I'm so fortunate to have never suffered from depression, nor known of anyone I care about struggling with it.
Yes, extremely fortunate. I'm not sure I know anyone who hasn't been touched by it in some way or another.
This is right on time Mona. Thank you so much for speaking on this issue. My sister, Leslee, died almost a year ago at 61- suicide by alcoholism. She was deeply depressed and a practicing alcoholic and I'm not sure what came first. I only know I was powerless to help her and I miss her to my core. That darkness and hopelessness surrounds us all. Profound humility........
Sweet Leslee. ❤️If only...
My heart is with you, as always. I wish I had the words. May your best memories ease your pain, dear Lisa. 💕
She loved you too Mona.
❤️❤️❤️
I’m so sorry Lisa. My youngest sister died the same way four years ago at 62. She too was deeply depressed her entire adult life and turned to alcohol to cope which destroyed her. It was so very painful to witness. She was so dear to me, but the darkness was deeper than I could shed light on.
Thank you for writing this and sharing it with us, Ramona. Your description of your own depression, helped me to understand what it is like to suffer with such overwhelming pain that isolates us from others and from ourselves. I especially found this sentence confirming as to what it must be like: “We are a burden not just to ourselves but to everyone around us. Love (or the lack of love) has nothing to do with it. When we're in a depressed state we have turned inward and our demons have locked the door. We put on our outside face and pretend.”
My daughter died by suicide thirteen years ago at the age of 34. She had suffered from mania and depression since she was 18. That is a long time for such suffering. I know some of her pain, but will never know all of it because she would tell me and I have her journals. The pretending was especially hard for her because when she was well, she was so vibrant, fun, witty, and active. She lit up a room. Then, she would be hit again with that terrible heavy burden of depression while having to carry a load of being productive and pay her own way through life. If there is anything I wish I could have done for her, it is to have not have her suffer so. Her suicide was a shock because she was pretending so well at the time that all was well. It was a shock even as I lived in the shadow of the fear of it since her teens.
I don’t know if I will read Martha’s piece right now. I may come back to it. Your piece has touched me at the core. I do truly appreciate hearing of your own pain, but wish you had not had to suffer it and pray it never visits you again.
Sally, this must have been difficult for you to write, but I'm grateful to you for talking about your daughter, for sharing your own insight. I hope your thoughts of her happier moments help to crowd out the more painful times. Thank you again. 💕
Thank you. I think the happier moments are the ones I remember best, and most, thankfully.
Thank you for this post, Ramona. So important. So difficult.
Regarding Suicide:
For some at least, hope may be found in the fact that there is actually NO PROOF at all that life is better than death. The very widely held assumption that death is a tragedy has no scientific basis, and is instead better described as a kind of almost religious belief constructed mostly from fear and our universally shared ignorance.
The "death is bad" assumption may be true. It may be false. The truth of the matter may be something beyond our ability to imagine. Who knows? Certainly not me. But....
The absence of any data about death, or any ability to arrive at a credible theory of death, does open the door to an opportunity that seems worth exploring.
Consider a three year old child. They know almost nothing about life. So they make up stories about it. What else can they do? If the stories the child creates are uplifting and an asset to their living, their stories are rational. In the absence of any data, the truth value of a story become irrelevant, and the value of a story arises instead from how well it can serve the living.
Example: Personally, I like the stories told by those who have had near death experiences. Many such subjects report that they liked "the other side" so much they were disappointed that they had to come back. Do investigate if you haven't already. https://med.virginia.edu/perceptual-studies/our-research/near-death-experiences-ndes/
Are these stories factually accurate representations of death? I have no idea. Do these stories prove anything one way or another? I don't see how they could. We won't get good answers from these questions, because they are the wrong questions. The right question would seem to be, do these stories help some people in their living? They pass that test for me.
When it comes to issues the vast scale of death, all of us are three year old children. So to the degree possible, let's embrace whatever happy stories we can make peace with, and try to be happy children.
There's no doubt that suicide victims see the end of life more preferable to life itself, but for others who desperately want to live, death IS bad.
You're right, nobody knows what lies on the other side, but I choose to live as if my death will put me in a dark void where I'll cease to exist so I'd better get the most out of these days when I'm still here.
I'm 86 years old. I have no illusions about living a long, long, longer life. Norman Lear died today at 101. As of a few months ago he was still charging ahead, still hopeful that our country would do the right thing, still laughing and making jokes and being Norman Lear. I envy him and hope I'll be doing the same, even moments before I stop breathing.
But this is about people who can't feel that way. And about the people who survive them and have loved them. Their deaths ended a life that should have been worth living. It may have been solace for them, but it most certainly isn't for those they've left behind.
So in that sense, again. death is bad.
Hi Ramona,
The experience of dying is bad. Covid just gave me a taste a few days ago. An anticipation of death can be bad. A rejection of the inevitable can be a bad experience. All that is true. But shouldn't be confused with death itself, of which we know nothing. Babies come in to this world bloody and screaming. That doesn't equal life being bad.
Yes, awareness of death can improve life, agreed!
I hear you on the left behind.
We're using the word "death" in what seems different ways. You seem to be referring to our relationship with death, whereas I'm referring to whatever it actually is, or isn't.
I can't address what is or isn't. I just don't know. I live in the here and now and I have to say I like it that way. I'll leave it to others to ponder what it all means.
Ramona, thank you for this piece. You are so right that there isn’t a simple cure or answer for debilitating depression. If there’s one thing it’s taught me - and my friend’s recent suicide bears this out - we teeter along an uncertain edge, not knowing, not being able to control how we’re treated or how we treat ourselves. Acceptance of that existential uncertainty has brought me more peace than anything else - and sparks my enduring anger against those in power who simply don’t care about the inner lives of others and assume everyone can be fixed. For me, moments of being or joy are to be treasured, because they are moments, not some constant state to be achieved. 🙏🏽
Yes, I think it's why I revel in those moments of joy now. I've been to those dark places and I've watched as others I love have gone there, too. I feel sometimes as if I've been given a reprieve and not a gift. It could happen again, as swiftly and mysteriously as it started.
When Ed died I waited--literally waited--for the depression to come back. When it didn't--not to any degree I might worry about--it felt as if I'd been spared falling into that dark hole and I could look around and admire and appreciate where I was and what life could bring. While I'm sad and I grieve and I can cry at the drop of a hat, it doesn't feel like depression.
I'm thankful for that, but at the same time I know there are others who still struggle. I find it intolerable that the system is still so stubbornly entrenched in the idea that 'it's all in our head'. There has been some progress but not nearly enough. Mental illness is still a stigma. That should have ended long ago. Maybe around the time that cancer stopped being a stigma. Or erectile dysfunction.
One thing I’ve found is that if I allow myself to feel the full weight of grief and pain - as you did after Ed died - then it’s almost the opposite of depression. By that, I don’t mean happiness; I do mean being present in my life, feeling rather than suppressing or numbing or sinking into the gray void in which nothing seems good. That’s not a panacea or self-help tip - I just admire your resilience and acceptance ❤️
Martha, that's so wise: "I allow myself to feel the full weight of grief and pain...".
I think you may be right that often suppression leads to depression. I don't know, but my worst depressions came when I felt I had no control over my life anymore, whether or not that was true. I hid my feelings for so long they became toxic, diseased.
As I've said before, I think writing may have saved me. It forced me to feel things honestly, to analyze and reflect and to adjust if I didn't get it right.
Wow. I need to think about this! 💕
Totally agree with your last comments that mental health needs to be treated as any other health problem. As a therapist I can say that clinical depression is a truly horrible experience for the suffer and those that love them.
Yes, it is, and it needs to be taken seriously. If it were on the same level as physical ailments it would be. So why isn't it?
Someday, I will need to tell my grandchildren (my husband & I are raising) more details of their mother’s death. For now, I’ll continue to grieve, process & chase joy.
Dinara, I just read your post about your daughter's death and I'm so, so sorry. Yes, you'll be doing all three--grieving, processing, and finding joy in your grandchildren. It won't be easy, as you well know, but there are so many who will be there for you, including me.
Any time. Any time at all. 💕
Ramona, you're not going to believe this. I also wrote about depression in August 2014 after Robin Williams' died. Thank you for this. It's an important topic. Here's my article: https://medium.com/@debbieweil/when-depression-creeps-in-like-the-fog-56e26954f8e1
Debbie, thanks so much for sharing the piece you wrote. It's not easy to write out these thoughts but it means so much to so many others who can't find the words to articulate those thoughts that re-surface every time someone in the public eye succumbs to that terrible disease.
We need to keep talking about it. There is no shame in depression, as we both know, just as there's no shame in any other disease. We still need more enlightened education. Thanks again! ❤️