Let’s Talk About Mental Health

A year and a half ago, I was in the grips of major depression, all faith and hope were gone, and I really believed I was going to die, I wanted to die.  There were dark clouds of pessimism and despair hovering over me, and it shames me to say that I wasn’t even able to look after myself properly.  My home was a disaster area, I had poor hygiene, and I would cry for no reason at all.  I was a wreck!

There was a crisis, there always is, it didn’t precipitate the depression, that was already there, but it precipitated the need for action.  Only one other person knows what I am about to share publicly, I was desperate and had pretty well resolved to disappear, to go away and end my life peacefully somewhere where I wouldn’t be found.  Selfish of me, I know, but rational thinking wasn’t my strong suit back then, but a lucid moment did find me and I reached for the phone.  The rest, as they say, is history.

It’s painful to remember those days, and it isn’t easy to share, but on this, World Mental Health Day, it seems appropriate to end the stigma and share my story. 

Even though one in five Canadians suffers from a mental illness at some point in their lives, we don’t talk about it.  The stigma is so great that those suffering from mental health issues would rather suffer in silence than risk being judged by those they love.  Wouldn’t it be great if the whole world started talking about it in a caring and compassionate way, how many lives could we save, how much misery could we avert?

My own story ends well because people were willing to listen when I was ready to talk.  The love and support from my family and friends helped me to cope with my illness and brought me to the right people, places, and things to help me recover.  Although my life is not perfect today, depression still rears its ugly head once in a while, on most days I am genuinely happy, and when I’m not, I know that I have a network of people who really care to turn to.

It takes more than medication to cure mental illness, it takes an entire community of caring individuals, adequate resources, and informed supports.  Chances are someone you know is dealing with a mental health issue, be the friend they need, and talk about it!

Love you all!

Luc

Suicide - Be a Fork in the Path

It’s tragic, really, all these suicides we are hearing about these days, what’s even more tragic is people’s response to them.  I’m deeply saddened when I hear people referring to victims of suicide as cowards because suicide is far from a cowardly act, it takes a lot of courage to reach a point where you actually take your own life.  They are victims just as certainly as if someone had taken their life from them, because they slipped through the cracks of society, of a broken mental health system that is hard to access, and of their own mental health issues.

Unless you’ve personally walked the path of major depression, you just can’t understand that suicide is not about the break-up, about the financial collapse, about the loneliness, or about the fear of facing something, it’s about walking an endless path of despair, looking desperately for that fork in the road that may lead to some comfort but the fork never appears.  Suicide is never about one let-down, it’s about a series of them, it’s about intense pain brought on by the act of living, and about believing, delusional or not, that nobody cares.  I know, I walked that path and I reached that point, but fortunately for me, it didn’t end in suicide.

I am absolutely grateful, and always will be, that a benevolent soul recognized my suffering and put a fork in my path which led me out of despair and into the arms of people who cared.  I still suffer from depression today, but I was given tools to help me cope with the bumps in the road, and for the most part, I have a pretty good life today.

Suicide is preventable but only if we put aside the stigma of mental health and reach out to people instead of pushing them away, don’t tell people to get over it, help them get over it, and be an active part of their mental health treatment.  Be that elusive fork in the path for someone!

Love you all!

Luc 

Margaret Trudeau, I Love You!

Confession time (bait), if truth be known (set), I am in love with Margaret Trudeau (hook).  See how easy that was to get your undivided attention, that’s how a writer reels in his audience, and it works every time.  Now, the hook has to be relevant to the story, and in this case it is, but it’s also a little deceptive because I go on to tell you that my love for Margaret Trudeau is not a romantic kind of love, although she is quite an attractive and personable woman, more of a platonic kind of love.  What I am in love with is her brutal and candid honesty, her ability to speak so easily about moments others would hold private, and her openness to discussing her own mental illness to motivate and help others.  I love her for all those things.

I’ve had the pleasure of hearing Margaret speak on two different occasions, the first was a few years back, just after I had been diagnosed with a major depressive illness myself, and then more recently a little over a week ago, a year after my depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder decimated parts of my own life.  Those audiences weren’t planned, they just happened at an opportune time.  My higher power meant for me to be there, of that I am certain.  Of course, I knew in advance that she would be the keynote speaker at the conference I was attending, but I knew I was participating in the conference long before I knew she would be there.  As they say, when the student is ready, the teacher appears, and this student was ready.

My foray into mental illness took a different path then Margaret Trudeau’s and expressed itself much differently.  I didn’t get the mania, just the depression; I didn’t do wild and crazy things that I would eventually be able to laugh at, no my depression took me to a place where I had convinced myself that I was going to die no matter what so I just gave up.  In public, I put on a brave face, acted as if everything was fine, and quoted all kinds of positive quotes, but in private, oh boy, I braced myself for my sure and certain demise and would get angry because it took so long to come.  Now don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t suicidal, I didn’t want to die, I just convinced myself that I was going to.

Of course, there was a physical cause for my depression and for my PTSD, and I will discuss that at length in my next blog, but for now it suffices to say that like Margaret, I knew something was wrong with me, but unlike her, I was unwilling to talk about it, I was in deep denial and put up a front, pushing away the people I cared about so they wouldn’t know I was hurting.

Through her honesty and openness, Margaret unwittingly helped me get past the stigma, inspired me to face my demons by talking about them, and showed me that there is hope after mental illness.  Yes, I love that woman very much but not in a superficial, romantic kind of way, but in a deep, eternal, and grateful kind of way.  I am doing much better now, but I’m still not perfect, and the truth is that I probably never will be, but I am coping well, and my life is getting better and better each day!  I Love you, Margaret!  Thank you!

PS:  If you haven’t read it yet, I would definitely recommend reading, Changing My Mind, by Margaret Trudeau (Harper Collins)