one.two.three

My older sister and only sibling, Kathryn, passed away last September. This is the reason that I am so active in the fight against eating disorders. I do believe that anorexia stole my sister's life. But what I have not yet said, what some may have assumed, but certainly no one has asked, is that at the end of the day, it was her decision.

Despite the fact that she was fighting a battle against anorexia and bipolar disorder for well over a decade, I had deluded myself into believing that my sister would never take her own life. I watched her survive a horrific high school experience, and when she came out on the other side, I was so amazed and proud of her resilience that I believed she could fight through anything. 

When we lost a friend to suicide the following year, my sister stood up at her memorial gathering, looked me right in the eyes, tears welling, pointed in my direction and made a promise to me and everyone in that room that she would never kill herself. She would never put me through that.

For many months after losing my sister my primary emotion was anger. I was angry at her for doing this, for breaking so many promises. I was angry that she didn't leave me anything behind, no goodbye. I felt like I meant nothing to her; why else would she put me through this pain, when she knew first hand how badly it hurt?

My family dynamic went through many shifts in the months after her death, especially when my grandfather passed away three months later. These events led to me spending most of my semester break completely alone in my mother's new apartment. I was burdened with feelings of abandonment for the entire month I spend in my hometown. Abandonment from my sister, my parents, and friends who had failed to come through for me when I needed them the most. 

These feelings of abandonment bred even more anger. I felt that my sister had been selfish. She had left me to pick up the pieces of a failing and broken family. She had managed to secure her role as the center of attention, even when she was no longer on this earth. As always, I was falling through the cracks, being left behind, ignored, forgotten, and taken for granted. I had never been more angry with her. (And you should've seen some of the fights we've had.)

Only fairly recently have I let this anger go. I think back to the promise my sister made to me, and how she has broken it. Instead of feeling anger, I now feel compassion. The fact that she broke her promise doesn't indicate that she didn't mean it. It shows that her battle had just become that difficult; the promise simply became that hard to keep. I can't imagine how much pain she must have felt to believe that breaking that promise was the better choice.

I think back to the fact that my sister never said goodbye. Instead of feeling abandoned by her, I can recognize that it was too hard for her to think about me that night. I know that she had made her decision, and that thinking of me would remind her of reasons to stay, which she did not want that this time. She couldn't hang on this time.

I know now that my goodbye was on the day I moved into Mount Holyoke for my junior year. She had woken up early to see Katharine and I off, despite the immense difficulty she had getting out of bed. She helped us pack up the rest of our things; carefully, slowly, and with a smile. She gave Katharine a birthday present she had wanted so badly to deliver in person. She gave me a hug and told me that she loved me. And I walked out the door.

The loss of Robin Williams is the first (and I pray, only) suicide that many people will experience. Many who are ignorant and uniformed are spewing hurtful ideas of what kinds of people commit suicide, and what kinds of things happen to those people. I urge anyone who reads this to remember these words.

As poet Andrea Gibson shared in a recent Facebook update,

I always believe that the people who leave this world on purpose were trying like hell, trying their very very best, to stay.

From The Huffington Post  article "There's Nothing Selfish About Suicide" by Katie Hurley, 

People who say that suicide is selfish always reference the survivors. It's selfish to leave children, spouses and other family members behind, so they say. They're not thinking about the survivors, or so they would have us believe. What they don't know is that those very loved ones are the reason many people hang on for just one more day. They do think about the survivors, probably up until the very last moment in many cases. But the soul-crushing depression that envelops them leaves them feeling like there is no alternative. Like the only way to get out is to opt out. And that is a devastating thought to endure.

I am in no way condoning suicide. Every day I am consumed with grief and guilt over those that I have lost. I wish that I did not have to deal with these deaths. I can understand that my sister felt that it was her only choice. What needs to change is the fact that someone can feel that way. 

No lives should be taken by one's own hands. No one should have to feel the horrific guilt and sadness that all survivors of suicide have felt. No one should have to feel as hopeless as my sister did, as my aunts did, as Robin Williams did, as too many have felt.

I have been afraid to share this side of my story for too long. I have felt silenced; albeit through avoidance, not malevolence. No one should have to fear what people will think or say about something that they have experienced. If we cannot share our experiences, we cannot use those experiences to inspire change. 

Change will not come from silence, from fear of being judged. Change will not come from shaming the dead. Change will not come from clinging onto those who have already made their passage.  What we need is openness, kindness, honesty. What we need is a mental health care system that does not discriminate. What we need is a society that does not stigmatize. What we need is dialogue.

Speak up.

Ask people how they are doing. Ask them regularly. Listen to them.

If someone reaches out to you, be there for them.

Don't be afraid to use the words "depression," "suicide," "mental illness". Ignoring the problem does not make it go away, it only alienates and antagonizes. 

Be aware of the signs. If you see them, tell someone who can help.

Don't stigmatize mental illness.

Don't belittle mental illness.