I have had friends and family members who have taken their own lives. Each person has a story of private pain and dark tides of gloom. Each story is different. And each person that finds hope again are not cured, they are just given a reprieve. Remission from depression scares me because what it means is that the darkness could return.
So I write on, using inadequate words as a window. I use words to help me to see out and to help other people to see inside. It helps me to think that some people may find some comfort in what I write and others may understand themselves or people they know just a little better. I also write to end the silence and the stigma that so many face when they admit that they have a mental illness.
I use words to help me to see out and to help other people to see inside. It helps me to think that some people may find some comfort in what I write and others may understand themselves or people they know just a little better.
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Your daughter, her light is gone. “Part of the world died with her that day.”
I hope that you and your family can find healing and thank you for taking time to respond to what I wrote. If you would like, I would like to know more about your daughter’s story.
In hope.
If you would like to read more writing on mental illness and depression, you may want to read some of my other work:
Why is Emotional Healing So Much More Difficult for Men?
If anyone reading this piece is struggling with thoughts of taking your life, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 if you live in the US. If you live in Canada, please refer to this link for the Crisis Center for your area.
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Keep it Real
Photos by Alyssa L. Miller and Grekor
I don’t know Mike, but his story took my heart by storm.
He responded to a piece that I wrote about my depression. His comment was raw and it hit me. He reacted to a statement where I said, “Your difficult moods have a gift for you: They will make the good days stand out.”
Mike, I can only imagine your pain. I have a 13 year old daughter and a 16 year old son. If one of them were to take their life, it would end me. I don’t know how I would go on.
My experience with depression has been life long and hellish. I don’t know anything about your story, but your daughter sounds like she went through terrible darkness. At times, I have wanted the pain to end because I felt so dark and hopeless. I had no light and no life in me. The closest that I ever came to ending my life was having a plan.
Articles like the one that you responded to are difficult to write. I wrote it on a day when my depression had returned. It scared the hell out of me. I have been symptom free for almost a year and in the past month, my depression has been creeping back.
So I am trying to dig in. Last year, writing helped to pull me out of my darkness, I write as a form of therapy for myself. Expressing myself in words seems to help the cloud to lift, even a little. That day, the darkness hit me hard and I felt low. So I wrote about it. Honestly, I sometimes fear that people who read an article on depression will react out of concern for me if I write about how dark it can feel.
But I am okay, because of writing. Because of my family. Because I am not alone even though my depression tries to isolate and tear me away from those who care most deeply for me.
As I said in my response to you,