Depression… it’s been a tough week

It’s been a tough week.  That is a broad, sweeping statement that can probably apply to a lot of people I know, each of whom have varying degrees of mental health.  I don’t know for sure where exactly on the spectrum each person falls:  from positive, strong mental health, to “I might need help” levels.  The reason for my uncertainty?  It’s nearly impossible to gauge a person’s mental health, at least from an external observance perspective.   The only way to know for sure is to really talk to people.  And these days, who has time for that?  I say this with tongue in cheek, but truly it is an accurate portrayal of our current reality.  We really ought to take the time to talk to each other.  Especially the people who we are closest to.   Next time you’re with a friend, or a relative, take the time to say you love them, you care for them, you are listening (really listening) to them.

From my own personal standpoint, while I was dealing with some really serious shit this week personally, I put on an air of positivism and normalcy for my friends, family and coworkers.   I am thankful that I have a great and interesting job, because it allowed me to stay focused throughout the week!

I would rate myself as having a strong and positive mental health.  I think I deal with stress very well.  But when it comes to loss or grief, I don’t think I do as well but I try.  I feel like I’m just a paper-thin shell that can fold at the tiniest strain of thought towards the lost one.  So far in this post, I feel like my words are coming across as slightly mysterious or outright vague, and in part I think that is deliberate, so here is the skinny:

I’ve had a loss this week: my uncle hung himself.

My uncle was battling with some serious demons and lost, and he took the drastic road of a suicide attempt that has left the people who cared for him with unanswered questions and a strange trail of grief and uncertainty.  Here’s the uncertainty piece: he’s not actually dead (yet).  Well, not physically dead, but there is no more brain activity.  My uncle is brain dead.  I have difficulty reconciling that fact with the fact that his body is still alive and breathing with the help of machines.  So when it comes to the grieving process, I am confused.  I’ve dealt with loss before, but never like this.  He’s brain dead, which to me is as good as dead.  I want to grieve… but I can’t, at least not fully, and not until his body is gone as well.  It’s weird.  I feel like my family are all sharing these same or similar feelings, but none of us are explicitly talking about it.  Why can’t we grieve now?   Why can’t we let go?  It’s almost as though, like my uncle, we are in a strange limbo state, and until his body passes (which is probably within the next 24 hours), we are not free from this state.

I didn’t know how to deal with this.  I didn’t know how to cope.   Then I got the idea to just write.  I started writing, because I thought it would be cathartic.  I wanted to share it with everyone too.  To generate discussion, and to help with the grieving.  Maybe this is my grieving?

I had no idea my uncle had such severe depression issues.  I know that he’s struggled with addictions, and that he’s recently been in a bad place.  But I felt like he was getting the help and support that he needed.   Despite that help, the issues were severe enough that he took his own life.  This is what I have a hard time with, I think.  There is a history of depression in my family, and I like to think that I’m there for them.  But am I really?  Do I think that things are rosier than they are?  It comes down to the talking and listening part I mentioned earlier.  Is that enough though?  I think so, because I’m an optimist at heart.

All of this comes on the heels of the Bell mental health awareness campaign this week.  They’ve done some wonderful things and raised a lot of money and awareness for mental health issues.  I think this is awesome, and truly believe that awareness is the key.  If any of you are still reading this, first of all thank you.  I know it’s long-winded and mostly self-serving, but I do have genuinely good intentions for writing it.  So if you’re still reading, and you think “yeah, I’m having some issues” then please, PLEASE, talk to somebody right NOW.  I don’t care who you talk to – it can be me, the person next to you, Telecare, your EAP, a dude on the street.  Just talk to someone, and get some help.  It’s out there.  There’s always a way.  There’s always an alternative.  Suicide is not an acceptable answer.  It’s an altogether too easy out for you that is selfish and leaves everyone around you in a trail of pain, guilt, grief, and uncertainty.  You may think, in your lowliest state, that nobody cares for you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.  I guarantee it.  Call me on it, and I will show you.

RR

2015.01.30

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So what do you think? I’m interested in hearing from all of you, regardless of your mental health state whether you’re strong or needing of help.  Weigh in on any part of my post. Have you been in this scenario where someone you love is brain-dead and on life support?  Have you had to put on a happy exterior while dealing with pain on the inside?  How are you doing anyway, really?  Let me know – it can be publicly posted or private messaged.