Our community has lost two mamas to suicide in the past week. We need to talk about this; we’re fools if we don’t. I won’t pretend to understand the depth of depression these women struggled with, but I spent many nights in my 30s laying in bed, drowning in panic attacks and sadness and eating hopelessness like it wasn’t the bitterest thing I’d ever put in my mouth. I have wondered if death wouldn’t be preferable to that madness and if the world wouldn’t be a better place without my crazy in it. I’ve never been suicidal, really, but I have wondered. And until we bring this dark, soul sucking disease of depression into the light, we will continue to suffer in ear shattering silence. It will kill us. It is killing us.
Mama, if you are struggling with the desire to be done with this world, this is for you: your kids? They need you. Your husband? He does too. And if you don’t have kids or a husband, if you’re not even a mama, the world needs you. It does. You matter. Even with the cloak of depression weighing your shoulders down, we need you. Even in a diminished, fragile, needy state of mind, we need you. Your life matters in whatever capacity you are living it. And if there is a voice right now that is telling you otherwise, then please do this: go into your closet, shut the door, put a pillow over your face so you don’t freak the children out and scream as loudly as you can to shut up. If you like to use swears, this would be a fantastic time to do so. You scream your fighting words into that pillow and then you have to do this next thing because it’s vital. I want you to text a friend, a neighbor, a coworker, your mom just one word: MAYDAY. It is their signal that you need help. They will come. We will all come. Just please hold on until we get there.
Sisters, can we agree that we need a battle cry and that MAYDAY is a killer one? I don’t know what you believe, but there is truth that goes like this: there is a God, who is all powerful and all knowing and bursting with perfect love. He made you. He loves and accepts you and you matter to him. He, and he alone, gets to decide when your work here on earth is finished and I promise you that if you surrender into his soft hands, he will hold you so tightly you won’t ever want to be let loose. All your sadness won’t melt away because it doesn’t work like that, I’m sorry to say. Instead, you will find in him the ability to cope with this crappy world and all it’s hurt. And you will find a purpose worth living for that will help you get out of bed in the morning and start working. Because there is no hurt too big to heal, so whatever you’re dealing with, bring it. We won’t fix it because we are woefully unqualified to do so, but we will drive you to someone who can. We will hold your hand and text you love notes and we will travel your road with you because you are not alone.
Mamas, the world does not have your back, but we do. If you are living in darkness so deep you can’t see any other way through but suicide, Mayday. If you are buying the lie that your babies would be better off without you, Mayday. If you believe your husband/family/friend deserves more than a depressed wife/mother/friend, Mayday. You text those 6 letters like your life depends on it, because it does. And we will drop dishes, power down our computers, jump out of the bathtub and come. Hair askew and panting and with only ourselves and hope to offer, we will come running for you because you are precious and you do not need to suffer alone. We are here. We are listening. We love you. #mayday
This is me being real.