Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 17 years ago, I lost the life I once knew, but in the process re-created a better me. I am alive and functional today because of my dog, my treatment team, my sobriety, and my willingness to re-create myself within the confines of this illness. I hate the illness, but I'm grateful for the person I've become and the opportunities I've seized because of it. I hope writing a depression blog will reduce stigma and improve the understanding and treatment of people with mental illness. All original content copyright to me: etta. Enjoy your visit!

Thursday, June 4, 2009

A near suicide

She had nearly completed the note by the time the officer pounded on the door. Only a few words were left unsaid when her daughter later discovered it. Standing in her mother's silent home, the eerie mid-sentence stop terrified her. She had no idea.

Earlier that morning, her mom, a mutual acquaintance, sent my co-worker a text message saying she was done. She "couldn't do this any more." Calls to her home were met with hysterical sobbing, ominous predictions, and finally hang-ups. I dialed 911. We had no idea.

She is safe now on a 72-hour-hold. We are shocked, dismayed, worried. Wanting to help but meeting the family resistance of shame, we are told to stay away. Stigma rears it's ugly head.

It is a lesson, a reminder. We may never know an other's secret anguish, as mental pain is often hidden by shame. We must never take words for granted. What if we hadn't called the police? Like chest pain and shortness of breath, words can also predict imminent death. It's a lesson not to forget.


Sid said...

They may be telling you to stay away, but I'm sure deep down they are all thankful you made that 911 call. Be proud you did, many others probably never would have.

Anonymous said...

The saddest part is knowing exactly how she feels. Our minds get so warped. The hardest part is deciding to stay.