Wednesday, November 19, 2008


Today was such a heavy day. Heavy and weird.

People were weird. Work was weird. People at work were weird. Hence, I was weird.

I felt completely disconnected today - especially from my co-workers. It was as though there was a great secret to be told and I wasn't in on it. So, without knowing what's going on or if something's going on, I become defensive and short and close my office door to lick my (imaginary) wounds.

Then, we get a death certificate. Damn. That was heavy. It still is heavy; I can't shake it. I feel so sad and angry. I hope I never never ever never ever get to the point where things are so bleak and dire that taking my own life would be my only option.


Melly said...

What do you mean you got a death certificate? What do you do that you would receive one of these??

Reese said...

I'm in Human Resources...

Lori said...

When I was a freshman in college, I was clinically depressed. I never went to a doctor for a diagnosis - if someone had suggested it and/or taken me there, I'm sure I would have been put on meds immediately. But when I saw a depression checklist a year or two after I came out of it, I could easily check off 7 or 8 of the symptoms, so I have no doubt that's what I had.

There were times when I definitely wished I would just die because I was tired of feeling that way. I didn't want to actually kill myself, partly because of my religious beliefs, but I think also because there was a part of me that thought I might someday feel better again. It lasted for MONTHS, and the thing that helped me through it was one understanding guy, my good friend's boyfriend, who would encourage me whenever I was especially down. I can't even remember what he said, I just remember that he was like a ray of light that year.

I did eventually come out of it without any medication or treatment or anything else besides his friendship. But I sure wish I'd known what I was up against sooner so I could have gotten some help and felt better much much earlier.

I think most people who kill themselves must have some kind of depression that warps their judgment and truly makes them think their lives will never get better and they will never *not* feel so bad. And it's so hard to recognize that in yourself.

I realize that's not the motive for every suicide and that there are often very serious issues that lead people to make that choice, but I do think that depression or other psychological conditions play a huge part in most suicides. I don't know why we as people are so reluctant to get mental help when, if someone is feeling awful physically, they go to the doctor so they can find out what's wrong and get better. There's such a stigma about mental illness, hormonal imbalances and everything else, and that's too bad.