Living people can change things, dead people cannot
Cory Doctorow just lost a young friend. His memorial post includes this beautiful, beautiful, true writing about depression & suicide:
I don't know for sure whether Aaron understood that any of us, any of his friends, would have taken a call from him at any hour of the day or night. I don't know if he understood that wherever he was, there were people who cared about him, who admired him, who would get on a plane or a bus or on a video-call and talk to him.
Because whatever problems Aaron was facing, killing himself didn't solve them. Whatever problems Aaron was facing, they will go unsolved forever. If he was lonely, he will never again be embraced by his friends. If he was despairing of the fight, he will never again rally his comrades with brilliant strategies and leadership. If he was sorrowing, he will never again be lifted from it.
Depression strikes so many of us. I've struggled with it, been so low I couldn't see the sky, and found my way back again, though I never thought I would. Talking to people, doing Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, seeking out a counsellor or a Samaritan -- all of these have a chance of bringing you back from those depths. Where there's life, there's hope. Living people can change things, dead people cannot.
I'm a very moody person - but I've only experienced this level of depression once, not too long ago, and it scared the living shit outta me. I was at WisCon, one of my favorite places to be, and I could act fairly normal, but felt just horrible. My Lizard Brain had the sense to corner an older friend, someone who's been through a lot, given good advice in the past, and is a bit talismanic to me. Cory's right: Talking to people, which is suddenly the hardest thing in the world, becomes the thing that saves you.
I hope you never experience this sort of depression; but if you do, I hope these words can help you or someone dear to you.
I don't know for sure whether Aaron understood that any of us, any of his friends, would have taken a call from him at any hour of the day or night. I don't know if he understood that wherever he was, there were people who cared about him, who admired him, who would get on a plane or a bus or on a video-call and talk to him.
Because whatever problems Aaron was facing, killing himself didn't solve them. Whatever problems Aaron was facing, they will go unsolved forever. If he was lonely, he will never again be embraced by his friends. If he was despairing of the fight, he will never again rally his comrades with brilliant strategies and leadership. If he was sorrowing, he will never again be lifted from it.
Depression strikes so many of us. I've struggled with it, been so low I couldn't see the sky, and found my way back again, though I never thought I would. Talking to people, doing Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, seeking out a counsellor or a Samaritan -- all of these have a chance of bringing you back from those depths. Where there's life, there's hope. Living people can change things, dead people cannot.
I'm a very moody person - but I've only experienced this level of depression once, not too long ago, and it scared the living shit outta me. I was at WisCon, one of my favorite places to be, and I could act fairly normal, but felt just horrible. My Lizard Brain had the sense to corner an older friend, someone who's been through a lot, given good advice in the past, and is a bit talismanic to me. Cory's right: Talking to people, which is suddenly the hardest thing in the world, becomes the thing that saves you.
I hope you never experience this sort of depression; but if you do, I hope these words can help you or someone dear to you.