Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Please don’t think that I am in any way validating suicide

Please don’t think that I am in any way validating suicide.  I am simply attempting to explain it from my point of view as I have, in my own way, come to understand it.  If this offends anyone for any reason I apologize.  I am not educated in psychology this is how I have learned to understand it.

I suffer from both depression and an incapacitating phobia (that means when I am confronted with the object of my fear, I lose the capacity of rational thought and behave recklessly.)
 
When you hit that breaking point (where you are forced to fight or flee) it is a horrible, horrible feeling.
 
In the instance of my phobia, the setting for my reaction changes, it can hit me anywhere.  In the car, at a friend’s house, at the park, out for a walk or even out at dinner.  (My phobia is bees/wasps/hornets)  These are battles that I can win or avoid and therefore manage some control over my fear.
 
When you hit the darkest point within depression it's usually from many things you encounter daily.  The places and triggers are always similar or the same.  So you fight / flee from the very same trigger, in the very same places every single time.  It can hit you when you open a photo album (any photo album), when you pull into work, when you pull into your garage or driveway or when you unlock your front door. 

It is the same battle over and over and over and over again.  Every day, with everyday things, an everyday battle that you will never win, you can learn to endure it.  You can learn to lessen the impact of the battle on your life, but it never really will go away.  For me, Christmas is hard, for personal reasons, presents under any Christmas tree takes me back and it always makes me sad.  (I am way better with it now, but I will always have to remain mindful and keep my mind on track or it will make me sad every single time.)
 
From all that I have read, Don Harman had support of friends and family.  He had an understanding family and loved his work.  I can only think that he just became too tired, of that everyday battle, for reasons I will never understand.  When a person suffers from depression and takes their own life, they may just be tired of fighting every day.  It never means that your friends or family could have done more.  Sometimes we just have to rest, and some of us have to do extraordinary things to get the rest we need. 

This doesn’t make it ok or acceptable.  I just want to shine a little light to hopefully help some people understand.

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