suicide prevention – Memphis Flyer

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.

I want to take this opportunity to talk about something that’s not often discussed. It’s kind of taboo in some circles, and often avoided in most.

However, it’s real and it needs to be talked about. It’s something that impacts nearly 40,000 people of all skin colors, ages, genders, classes, and income levels each year in this country.

The “it” I’m talking about is suicide. September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. It’s designed to help erase the stigma, shame, and hopelessness that surrounds mental illnesses and suicide. It’s for people to share their stories and their proven resources.

It’s an important month because 40,000 lives lost is a lot in a year’s time — especially when those deaths could have been prevented.

Statistics show that the bulk of suicide victims suffer from depression, which according to the American Psychiatric Association, is defined as a serious mental illness that affects 16 percent of the population at one point or another in their lives and 14.8 million Americans yearly.

And while research shows that over 80 percent of people who seek help for depression are able to be successfully treated and, therefore, live a seemingly normal life, only half of the said 14.8 million Americans seek help.

If you or I had a physical ailment and had the means to get medical treatment, I don’t think we’d think twice about seeing a doctor. And if we were to beat whatever the illness was, I don’t think we’d hesitate to share our story either.

There’s a stigma attached to mental illnesses, but it’s time it was broken down, because why should those who suffer from depression or any other mental illness hide from their truth?

We’re cognizant and alarmed by violence and low wages and racism and more — which we definitely should be — but I think it’s time we became aware and sympathetic to the fact that about 105 Americans die by suicide every day (according to the Centers for Disease Control). That is not okay. And it can be changed.

Suicide, depression, and other mental illnesses might be foreign subjects for some, but for others they’re all too familiar. It’s the reality that we must face and overcome every day, sometimes more than once a day, for months, or even years. And that’s why it has to be talked about and normalized.

Carlos Morón Villar | Dreamstime

I was diagnosed with clinical depression my freshman year in college. Even surrounded by others, I felt loneliness, coupled with unwarranted sadness. Thinking it would never end, I felt helpless. After a while, I reached a low point when I thought ending my life seemed like a promising option.

But I’m still here. I’m not a statistic. I got help. And you can too. There are options and resources out there. There are counselors who offer talk therapy — 106,500 in the U.S. to be exact. There are psychiatrists who can provide medicine to make life more manageable. There are free public support groups like Suicide Anonymous, which meets in Memphis every Sunday evening at Hope Presbyterian Church.

In crisis, there are hotlines, like the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, which is open 24/7 to give free, confidential support to callers. If you seek one or more of these options, you’re not crazy, and you’re not alone. You’d be one of the brave people who are doing it every day, maybe in silence but nevertheless, taking the steps to fight a hard battle and live a healthy life.

So what can the other 84 percent of the population who have never experienced depression or any other mental illness take away from this? I say we should all consider the old saying: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

Just love your neighbor, y’all. It’s hard. I know. Literally speaking, your neighbor might be the slob who lets their trash overflow into your yard, or figuratively speaking, your neighbor could be the barefoot, homeless man you pass on the corner every day on the way to work.

Whoever your neighbor is, love them and love them well. Acknowledge them, empathize with them, and stand with them, for we never know what they might be going through. And we never know what a lending hand in their direction could mean.

And If you’re depressed, seek help. If you think you’re alone, you’re not. If you’re suicidal, don’t give up. Your story isn’t finished.

Maya Smith is a Flyer staff writer.