Tag: suicide

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Letter From The Editor Opinion

You Are Enough

Photo: Marcel Strauß | Unsplash

I experienced my first deep loss at 5 years old — a great-aunt committed suicide. My young mind couldn’t make sense of it. We used to spend afternoons together, taking walks in the neighborhood. Most memories have faded now, but I do recall her smiling and laughing. I could never understand why she chose to end her life. After that day, every time I’d visit or pass that house, I’d envision her outside, wrestling with the idea, and ultimately pulling the trigger. It was a lot for a child’s brain to process.

In my early twenties, I lost three friends to suicide — by hanging and by gun. Later, a person very close to me slit her wrists. I remember receiving the phone call and rushing to the hospital, where she told me, essentially, that she’d failed that time, but I’d eventually have to let her go — she wasn’t meant for this world. In an unbelievable turn of events, after being medically treated, she was sent to jail (please see editor’s note at the end of this article). Not released to go home, to family, to be with friends for encouragement and support. She spent about a month in the county jail before being transferred to a mental health facility and eventually being diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Why jail was ever a step in this situation always baffled me — what a place to be when you’re already in such a fragile state. (I’m grateful to report today, all these years later, that she is healthy, happily married, and living a full life.)

These losses and experiences have been on my mind of late, as May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Of course, mental health challenges don’t always lead to suicide or suicidal ideation. They can present in the form of emotional outbursts, isolation, mania, insomnia. Anxiety, depression, substance-abuse disorder, obsessive-compulsive behavior, and post-traumatic stress disorder are among the technical terms for such diagnoses. And many of us have either struggled with one or more of the aforementioned or know someone who has.

There is often a stigma surrounding mental health, which can make it difficult to address. How do you treat yourself if you’re experiencing overwhelming stress or incredibly low lows? Do you reach out to friends or family? Do you go to therapy? Do you consider discussing with a doctor? Do you hold it all in and wait for the storms to pass?

If a loved one expresses anxiety or depression and shares with you stories of their battles, do you lend a sympathetic ear? Or do you tell them in short to buck up, buttercup — “It’s all in your head. You can control that. Just use your willpower, honey. You’re stronger than this.” (Don’t do the latter, please.) Sometimes, a person needs only for you to sit with them in silence, be present alongside their sadness or stresses — not offering solutions, just your attention.

It’s never an easy path to navigate in either situation, whether it’s you or another person going through it. But it’s important to look for signs and symptoms, and address them as soon — and as gently — as possible.

Throughout the pandemic and subsequent lockdowns, many people’s mental health took a hit. During the peak and aftermath of Covid, suicide and overdose rates swelled. This could be attributed to heightened instances of domestic violence as people were forced to stay home; loss of income due to society shutdown; increased anxiety and depression amid endless news reports and statistics, and confusion and fear of the virus. We experienced collective trauma, leading to loneliness and even cognitive and behavioral changes that some have yet to recover from. And while, in the grand scheme, the worst of that is behind us, many are still finding it difficult to engage in the same ways they did pre-pandemic.

We all handle life’s challenges differently. We carry our own traumas. No two brains function the same when it comes to confronting or working to overcome mental health crises.

Think of your own internal landscapes, how they ebb and flow, and use this knowledge when interacting with others. You never know what weight someone’s carrying with them.

If you find yourself in a dark place today, remember that your success rate for making it through tough days so far is 100 percent. Hang on, hang in.

You are enough. You are worthy of love. You are never a burden. And there are many beautiful tomorrows — sunrises, sunsets, smiles, handshakes, hugs, hot meals, cool breezes, soft blankets, so many lovely things — waiting for you around this bend.

Help is available 24/7 if you need it. Call or text 988 or visit 988lifeline.org.

*Editor’s note: Since publishing this article, it has come to our attention that the person who attempted suicide had their civil rights violated by being detained. Attempted suicide is not illegal in the United States.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

Suicide Silence

Let open discussion replace silence before it becomes deadly. (Photo: Piyapong Thongcharoen | Dreamstime.com)

After watching discussions on “YouTube University” about spirituality and suicide, I now have more questions than answers.

Suicides outnumber murders six to one in the white community. Suicide is the leading cause of death in the Black community among children ages 5 to 15. More guns are used to commit suicides than to protect or in self-defense. Every 73 seconds, someone in the U.S. attempts suicide. Every day, 139 of our family members, neighbors, and friends kill themselves. In the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic, experts are warning that the rate of suicides in America will continue to increase.

My questions are: Why are we so passively silent about these very preventable deaths? Why have we created an environment where surviving family members struggle with shame and guilt? Why is the faith-based community tip-toeing around or just flat out not addressing this growing problem that persistently leaves more empty pews? Why is there a delicate effort to justify and explain suicide after it’s done, yet we observe September as Suicide Prevention Month?

As a 40-year veteran of the media, I know it is an unspoken rule that we do not cover suicide deaths for fear of promoting copycats. So far, the continuing increase in the number of suicides does not indicate that this news-gathering philosophy is working. While suicide numbers continue to climb with or without media coverage, American families across ethnic and socioeconomic groups are suffering in silence.

My family has not been spared. In 1989, I was working as a news reporter at a CBS TV affiliate. Predating cell phones, my family’s tragedy was broadcast to everyone in earshot of the newsroom’s two-way radio system. “Pamela, someone from your family called to let you know that your uncle” — and they gave his name — “committed suicide.” At that moment, my heart sank. My heart was broken for my aunt and her six children, and my first cousins. However, my first response back to the assignment desk editor was a very protective reaction for my DNA. “Oh, no. Thank you for letting me know. That was my mother’s brother-in-law.”

This single act of suicide continued to take its toll on our family. My mother believed her sister, my uncle’s widow, grieved herself to death, dying three years later. Nearly 20 years later, the couple’s only son, my uncle’s namesake, took his life using the same method as his father — a gun. This time, it was my DNA. My first cousin didn’t leave a note, and we still don’t know why.

Ironically, I saw my cousin hours before his death. He was excited about starting a new job. I have replayed our conversation over and over, wondering what I missed and what I could have done.

I recently interviewed a mom who found her 10-year-old son hanging from his bunk bed with a belt around his neck. He could no longer shoulder the teasing and bullying he suffered because of a health challenge necessitating him wearing a colostomy bag. The first 10 minutes of our conversation were filled with crying and praying, not just for her strength, but for the moms and hurting children who are reaching out to her for help. She said one young man asked her, “If you say your son is in a better place, do you think I would be in a better place, too?” “Oh, my Lord … NO,” I said. We cried and prayed some more.

I am not an expert on suicide and I am not minimizing the reality of mental illness, but I will tell you that the suicide spirit is not new. In the Bible, in Matthew 4:6-7, Jesus was tempted when the Devil encouraged him to throw himself off the temple by saying, “If you are the son of God, He will send His angels to catch you.” Jesus overcame the temptation by saying that we are not to tempt God, and he resisted the voice of suicide. However, Judas committed suicide as Christ headed to Calvary to redeem Judas and all humanity of our sins. We must encourage each other by making sure that everyone knows that they do have a specific purpose that only they can carry out. What if Jesus had missed his purpose by throwing himself off the temple?

When it comes to saving lives, silence is not golden — it’s deadly.

Former Memphis media person Pamela D. Marshall is a talk show host at the WELLness Network and author of The Art of Forgiveness.

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News News Blog

COVID-19 Could Compound Holiday Suicides, Drug Overdoses

CREDIT: Justin Fox Burks

Justin Fox Burks

State health officials hope to stem annual winter holiday suicide and drug overdose rates that could be compounded this year with the stresses of COVID-19.

The Tennessee Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services (TDMHSAS) and Tennessee Department of Health (TDOH) launched ResilienTN this week. The program is focused on strengthening community connections to give Tennesseans “tools and knowledge to overcome the personal challenges they face, watch out for and help those around them, and emerge on the other side stronger than ever.”

Drug overdose deaths rose 15 percent in Tennessee last year, from 1,818 in 2018 to 2,089 in 2019. Health officials say overdose deaths in 2020 are on track to exceed 2019 overdose deaths. Much of these are attributed to illicit fentanyl and psychostimulants, a category that includes methamphetamine. Nonfatal opioid overdoses, especially among adults age 18-44, have also increased in 2020, peaking during the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic.
DEA

The opioid fentanyl can be 100 times more potent than morphine.

Suicide rates in Tennessee were 16 percent higher than the national average in 2018, the most recent full year of statistics. That year, 1,159 Tennesseans took their own lives. Suicide deaths are most common for adults aged 25-64 here. But suicide is now the third leading cause of death for youth and young adults aged 10-24 in Tennessee.

“By drawing attention to the tragic loss of life through overdose and suicide in our state, we are hoping to encourage Tennesseans to draw upon the resilience they have inside themselves, their families, workplaces, and communities to prevent another family from feeling that pain,” said TDMHSAS Commissioner Marie Williams.
[pullquote-1-center] Health officials in the state worry that the climate around the COVID-19 pandemic may worsen the rise in overdoses traditionally associated with the winter holidays and could also result in increased deaths from suicide.

The ResilienTN campaign will feature social media outreach and virtual training in overdose reversal and suicide prevention. Other events will focus on addiction recovery efforts on college campuses and suicide prevention among those struggling with substance use. A calendar of events and other resources is available at TNtogether.com.

“We know many Tennesseans are struggling with the challenges this year has thrown at us, and we want to remind everyone that resources are available to provide support when we or our loved ones need it to keep moving forward,” said TDOH Commissioner Lisa Piercey. “Every death from suicide or overdose is preventable, and we’re proud to join our partners in this important effort to save Tennessee lives.”

Anyone needing a referral to addiction treatment services can call or text the Tennessee REDLINE at 800-889-9789. For a mental health crisis or someone considering suicide, call the Statewide Crisis Line at 855-CRISIS-1 (855-247-7471).

Categories
News News Blog

Fiery Suicide Galvanizes Midtown Music Community

CREDIT: Alyssa Moore

Everyone knew something was up with Alyssa Moore last Friday, according to Kim Koehler. Koehler was playing at Murphy’s that night, and as they spoke, Moore, who runs sound at the bar, was constantly interrupted with texts. “I think some of the texts were from him,” said Koehler. “He was letting her know something was going to happen.”  Alyssa Moore

By now, most of us have heard or seen the horrific events that took place at Murphy’s that night. Jared McLemore, local audio engineer and musician, committed suicide by self-immolation, attempting to harm and terrorize others as he did so. His troubled psyche was not a secret to most of the community in recent months.

Moore, his estranged girlfriend, had reported him to the Memphis Police Department multiple times, starting when he first threatened to kill her last September. She had a restraining order placed on him. After that, he was institutionalized for a time, only to gain release and make his way back to Memphis. Only days before, he sent Moore an image of himself with a gun to his head, then broke into her home and threatened her again. He was clearly more disturbed than ever. A concerned roommate called the Memphis Police Department well before the incident at Murphy’s, but to no avail. Moore, who also engineers and manages the rechristened Move the Air Studio next door, was at her usual job at the Murphy’s mixing board that night.

The best account of what happened next comes from the GoFundMe site (www.gofundme.com/alyssa-moores-recovery-fund) where Jessie Anäis Honoré initiated a campaign to raise money in support of her friend:

“[McLemore] walked through the crowded bar, making his presence known to all of the patrons. He crossed the street, and when he saw Alyssa had walked outside, he quickly doused his body with more kerosene and lit himself on fire, streaming on Facebook Live, in full view of onlookers concerned for Alyssa’s safety.

Murphy’s patron Paul Garner tried to stop Jared and ended up hospitalized with second degree burns. Jared ran for Alyssa, in his final attempt to take what he was supposedly denied, by trying to catch her on fire too. Jared underestimated Alyssa though, because she didn’t freeze in fear. She held the door to Murphy’s open for everyone running from him inside to safety. When Jared finally reached the door, Alyssa held it closed trying to lock it to keep him from her and anyone else. He pushed his body against the door and the heat from the flames finally became too much for Alyssa to stand. She made a fast decision and screamed at everyone to ‘RUN!’ and then she ran too.”

To some, this highlights how determined, resourceful, and strong a woman must be in the face of terror, even if she has done everything right. Koehler faced a similar situation in Knoxville over a decade ago, yet could not get the local mental health professionals to respond. It too culminated with her ex trying to burn her alive – she was saved by a thunderstorm – and then killing himself. The memories were overwhelming as Koehler joined other patrons’ efforts to extinguish McLemore.

Like Koehler, Moore had been compassionate in the months leading up to the incident. As her family wrote, “We want to make clear that this happened because of a perfect storm of domestic abuse, the stigma around it, and the visceral reality of mental illness. Alyssa tried to help Jared, and she also had to keep herself safe from him.”

Garner feels the incident could have been avoided if the police had responded more quickly. Some point to the under-staffing of the MPD as the problem. Therapeutic care has also received short shrift since Ronald Reagan slashed federal funding of mental health programs in the 1980s. While progress has been made in recognizing domestic violence and its links to mental health, last weekend’s events underscore how far we have to go.

“Many situations like this just fester in darkness,” says Koehler. “There are still men and women out there who are suffering silently and alone and who have done all the right things, and are still having the person come and mess with them. And now were are left to deal with the effects. But this violent act does not need to define us, or defile us. We are beyond what the perpetrator did. ”

Those needing support for domestic violence issues or mental health assistance can contact the Memphis Family Shelter at 901-278-2728.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant (August 21, 2014)

CREDIT: FeatureFlash | Dreamstime.com

Several days before the shocking death of Robin Williams, an old friend posted a “confession” on Facebook that read, in part: “I’ve been lying to people for 40 years, and I’m just tired of lying. As recently as this morning, I’ve told people I had a stomachache or the flu when the truth is I’ve had severe clinical depression since I was 20 years old. The kind where you want to kill yourself. The kind where you’re ready to do ANYTHING to stop the pain.Yes, I tried to kill myself. I’ve been hospitalized three times. I’ve taken almost every kind of antidepressant known to man. It has hurt my relationships, my career, my sanity, everything in my life. So many people say suicide is ‘selfish,’ but they don’t understand that depression makes you crazy, and people who commit suicide are not in their ‘right mind.’ By now, I know I’m not going to kill myself because I can push those thoughts aside, but it’s not easy. It’s a real fight…a real struggle. Being able to talk about it helps. YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT AND GET TREATMENT, OR IT WILL KILL YOU!”

FeatureFlash | Dreamstime.com

Robin Williams

I never knew and commended him for speaking out, and then watched in astonishment as his brief remarks were shared more than 100 times and garnered 500-plus comments, mostly from others who had experienced some form of severe depression — like me. I was diagnosed with clinical depression with an anxiety disorder in 1987, and I have “managed” my illness with antidepressant medication for nearly 30 years. I expect to be on medication for the rest of my days, but I don’t mind, since they saved my life. “Depression” is different than “clinical depression.” No one in this life remains untouched by tragedy or loss, and it is natural to experience pain or grief. These periods of intense sadness, sometimes with the help of an antidepressant, ultimately grow easier to bear while the memories still linger. Clinical depression is a disease caused by an imbalance of chemicals in the brain and needs to be treated with a combination of medication and therapy. Unfortunately, the prescriptions for psychiatric medicine fly off the pads of any doctor holding a pen with “Prozac” printed on it, and patients are left to fend for themselves, deprived of crucial counseling.

It started for me at 19. I asked my friends if anyone else was experiencing these feelings of despair until I believed that it was only me, and I stopped talking about it. I thought that this was my lot in life and probably something I deserved. I rationalized my darkness by believing that there was some nobility in suffering that I would one day understand if I could only endure. I put on a cheerful face although my personal joy was gone.

As an entertainer, I was able to perform for large crowds, then go home and not come out until the next gig. There were groceries to buy, so I shopped at 2 a.m., when the store was empty, rather than run the risk of abandoning my cart in a store full of people and running for the nearest exit. I couldn’t eat in a fast-food restaurant without feeling rage at other people who seemed to be managing their lives while I was in inner turmoil. Then came the questions, “Why me?” and “What did I do wrong to end up here?” I have seen the destruction suicide has caused and would never take my own life out of concern for my loved ones, but I thought about it. I would never have recognized my obsessive introspection as an illness had I not seen my symptoms listed in a self-help book. It took me 16 years of tightly-controlled mania before seeking professional help.

Imbalanced brain chemistry messes with your “fight or flight” response. Under the most ordinary circumstances, your brain suddenly tells you that you are in danger when in reality you are not. This is what causes “panic attacks,” because of the confusion and anxiety. Soon, you avoid those places where an attack occurred to preclude the risk of another. Sadness is a precursor to life, but clinical depression manifests itself in physical ways — among them a tightness in the chest accompanied by a rapid heartbeat. The muscle around the heart becomes sore over time, causing chest pains. In my everyday interactions, I suffered head-to-toe soaking sweats, often needing to towel off after a simple discussion. My greatest fear was having to deal with auto mechanics. If there’s a Latin word for that phobia, I don’t know it. Globus is a condition often described as a “lump in the throat,” but depressives feel a constriction, accompanied by dry mouth and difficulty swallowing. And then there are the headaches. All types of headaches — migraine, cluster, light sensitive, tension. After a self-induced, terror-ridden trip on the interstate, my skull ached so unbearably, I’d take a fistful of Excedrin and lie in the dark, praying for sleep. Insomnia, that’s one more thing.

These are side effects of an illness. If you recognize them, get help from a psychologist or psychiatrist, and if you can’t do that, talk with a counselor or advisor.  In the past, health insurance companies were unwilling to cover mental illness. Now they must.

I was fortunate to find an experienced doctor who put me through a battery of psychological tests called the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. He then read an intricate description of my mental state that was so accurate I thought he’d been reading my journal. The medication was hardly as advanced as today’s, and I was told that it might be a month before I felt a difference. But within a week, as if by magic, the gloom began to lift from my shoulders. I could talk to people and look them in the eyes again. It was as if my real self had been returned to me. I was never secretive about my illness because I wanted to shout to the world about this miracle.

I can now live my life unburdened by depression, but I know it’s always there. I can still feel it sometimes, but understand that, like the weather, it will pass. Without daily medication, I could never have worked a normal job or written a column or gotten married or even something so simple as gone on a trip. Some depressives take refuge in reading. It can prevent a gloomy mood from turning into something more serious. I hesitate to admit it, as a sedentary person, but vigorous exercise also helps. And although it may be difficult, talk to somebody. An estimated 20 million Americans suffer from depression. You are not, nor have you ever been, alone.