What will people think of you?
What will people say about you?
Some people asked me these questions when I told them I was publishing an essay in the New York Times (“A Suicide Therapist’s Secret Past”) about a very dark time in my life when I made a suicide attempt. I can’t really blame them. I myself had the same fears.
It’s stigma. If I had been pummeled by a tornado and almost died, or survived breast cancer, or been robbed at gunpoint, no one would question my decision to tell others of my experience. However unfairly, suicide and mental illness are treated differently. They are, to many people, unspeakable.
The meaning of stigma is “a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person.” I refuse to abide by the notion that people with suicidal thoughts, depression, and other mental health problems deserve a mark of disgrace.
Depression and suicidality are things that happen to people, like cancer or bad weather. It’s not our fault, and it’s not something that taints us.
And so the fear I felt in coming out paradoxically fueled my motivation to do it.
A Long-Held Secret
For 22 years, I kept secret from almost everyone that I had made a suicide attempt in my first year of graduate school in Austin. Personally, it felt deeply private to me, even tender, a source of shame and failure regardless of whether that shame was deserved. Professionally, it seemed too much of a liability for people to know.
Of all people, some mental health professionals hold very stigmatizing attitudes toward people with mental illness. In my master’s program and beyond, I heard some colleagues’ disparaging remarks: “People who attempt suicide just want attention.” “She’s being manipulative.” “He’s so sick.”
Many physicians and nurses are openly hostile to people who have attempted suicide. When I worked as an emergency room social worker, more than once a physician came to me and said of a patient who had attempted suicide, “Could you please tell them how to do it right next time?”
Stigma exists even among researchers who devote themselves to helping prevent suicide. Early in my doctoral studies, I heard a suicide researcher complain that some people who worked in their research lab had a history of suicidal thoughts or behavior. The researcher wanted to know how to “weed out” these people before unknowingly hiring more people with a suicidal past.
From these experiences and more like them, I got the message loud and clear: Don’t tell anyone your past if you want to get a job, be respected and cared about, and succeed. Hide. Be quiet.
So that’s what I did – for more than 20 years.
Liberating Truth
I never lied. When people asked me why I was so interested in suicide prevention, I told them a friend of mine had died by suicide in high school, and the experience had filled me with questions about how to help suicidal people. I give this same explanation in my essay Why I Study Suicide.
It’s true. But it’s not the whole truth.
The whole truth is much bigger than a 1,400-word essay in the New York Times can capture. Maybe one day I will write a far longer piece about my experiences with depression and suicidality, maybe even a book. But for now, I wanted to at least come out of the closet.
Suicide prevention activists and researchers like to say that we need to lift the taboo about suicide. Talk about it. Diminish stigma. If enough people from diverse walks of life share their stories about mental illness and suicide, then stigma will buckle under the weight of enlightenment, education, and compassion.
As I explain in the New York Times piece, the longer I hid that I myself had been intensely suicidal, the more hypocritical I felt. I needed to do my part.
Some people cannot take the risk of revealing their mental illness, suicidality, or other vulnerabilities. They might be fired, or discriminated against, or hurt in other ways. Though I wish it were not so, the risk is real.
I could afford to tell my story. As an associate professor at the University of Denver Graduate School of Social Work, I have tenure. I’m not going to get fired for revealing my past.
It also helps that I recently finished writing a book, Helping the Suicidal Person: Tips and Techniques for Professionals. This gave me a huge sense of accomplishment and pride. I feel more confident now, not only professionally, but personally, too.
What Do People Think?
So let’s go back to the questions that came before the essay was published: What will people think of you? What will people say?
I’m happy to say that almost all of the responses have been positive. In the New York Times comments section, on my personal Facebook page, and in emails, phone calls, and handwritten notes, people convey their support. There are no doubt some people who think less of me, or judge me, or are aghast because I suffer from depression and I attempted suicide. I am not likely to receive emails from them.
Perhaps most gratifying to me are the emails from other people with mental illness and suicidality, many of whom are also mental health professionals. They tell me that my story helps them to feel less alone, less afraid, and more hopeful.
I love knowing that my essay is, in its own small way, spreading hope to others. But my motives in publishing it weren’t entirely selfless.
In sharing my experience with suicide, I also hoped to help myself. My suicidal past was a big secret to carry, especially as someone working in the suicide prevention field. I felt like an impostor, hiding in a dark closet of secrecy.
In coming out of the closet, I have stepped into the light.
Copyright 2017 Stacey Freedenthal, PhD, LCSW. All Rights Reserved. Written for Speaking of Suicide. All photos purchased from Fotolia.com.
Thank you. As a 40 year healthcare provider (MN, RN, APRN, CNS, PNP), the only person with whom I shared my secrets was my therapist, until a couple of weeks ago. I finally opened a conversation about suicide with a friend and colleague who is nearing the first anniversary date of her brilliant, accomplished, loved sister. As I approached the topic gently, I asked about whatever she was comfortable sharing about her sister and added the query about whether she had ever had such thoughts. Her reply of “ oh, god yes!” Was unexpected. I actually started the conversation for a very personal reason. I knew the method her sister chose and, had recently found myself wheeling into a gun shop to purchase a hand gun, only to find out that my most functional hand was not strong enough to pull the trigger on any of the models I reviewed. I felt so angry that the most lethal option I could imagine, was not possible for me. As an advanced practice nurse, I know first hand how successful plans have been executed and attempted by patients I cared for in the ER and ICU as well as by close family members. I also know what does not work. This was not the first time I have had such thoughts and plans. I was testing my friend to see if she might be a safe confidante. She was the second person with whom I shared my dark side. I was carefully vetting her to make certain I would not add to her struggle with the death of her sister. Whenever I have listened to a patient or client discuss their struggles, I feel like such an imposter, thinking “if you only knew”. This has been such a huge step in the midst of a long struggle with complicated PTSD and all that accompanies this misunderstood diagnosis, particularly as a healthcare professional. I cringe every time I hear the comment regarding my most visible trauma, tetraplegia as a result of a horrendous car crash with a speeding cellphone user about being “such an inspiration”. If only they knew! I’m a long way from sharing my full story, but this is a welcome start as I continue into my third year of working with a therapist to learn how to untangle, heal what I can, and find coping strategies for the triggers that remain. This is the most difficult work I have ever done. The thoughts are still there, I cannot erase the traumas, and I find relief in knowing that I am not alone.
CJS,
The secret is a heavy burden; “if only you knew” is a statement of loneliness, because we are hidden to the person in front of us. But people also have their reasons for hiding and bearing the burden, self-protection being one of them. The irony is that if more people shared that they, too, have had suicidal thoughts, there would no longer a need for self-protection. In the U.S., roughly 12 million people a year seriously consider suicide, far more than actually disclose it to others.
I’m sorry about all the pain you’ve experienced, and grateful to read that you are in therapy and connecting with others, too. Thank you for sharing here.
”When I worked as an emergency room social worker, more than once a physician came to me and said of a patient who had attempted suicide, “Could you please tell them how to do it right next time?”
That’s obscene. It immediately made me start crying. Did you turn in these physicians? Tell anyone what they said? Doctors like that shouldn’t be practicing.
I had a psychiatrist tell me to 1-Marry a rich man, and 2-Quit all my meds at once and smoke pot all day.
I filed a report on him. Turns out he was piling crap on many suicidal people and I got a letter he was under investigation.
People that awful shouldn’t be able to get away with that. How long before one of those ”Doctors” says that to a suicidal patient??
I know suicide feeling are very selfish, but you don’t feel it is at the time,you just think my son even the dog who saved me ,were better without me,when the dog sensed something wrong and was very troubled I told my son to ring 999. This is the last time this is the last attempt at suicide, I have now at this moment the urge still troubles me nearly everyday, but for some reason I know its weak, but carry on this fight, I’m elderly and don’t have any family or friends who care, partly because I’m so sensitive I can’t cope and hope to carry on being dependant on my own, I feel unsafe but always worry about telling people too much so feel even more unsafe if I tell people too much, I continue to try and put my disguise on now. I don’t want end up in a home if I ever get to this stage, my life wouldn’t be worth living I most probably end my life properly.
the fact that you called suicide feelings selfish is incredibly disrespectful to people with suicidal ideation.
Anonymous,
I agree with you that suicide itself isn’t selfish, but your words are quite a harsh judgment about someone who’s talking about her own suicidal thoughts. As a therapist who specializes in helping suicidal people, I can tell you it’s not uncommon for people to feel guilty for thinking of ending their life, because they know it would hurt the people they love. Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, friends and partners — they worry about the people they’ll leave behind. More than one parent has said they resist acting on their suicidal thoughts because they don’t want their children to grow up motherless or to follow in their footsteps.
It’s complicated. I personally wouldn’t judge another person as selfish for considering suicide, but if someone with suicidal thoughts considers themselves selfish for thinking of hurting people with their death, I certainly wouldn’t judge them negatively, either. They deserve compassion, not judgment.
Stacey, our ‘coming out of the suicide closet’ stories are similar in so many ways! It’s been over 24 years now and coming out definitely changed my life for the better and has sent me down a path of sharing my lived experience and helping our youth who struggle with suicidal ideation and/or previous attempts as well as their families. I had the wonderful pleasure of meeting you and attending your powerful training this past Friday in Denver and I hope we stay in touch! You are definitely a mentor to me. Continued blessings to you – Cheryl / Andy’s House (soon-to-be Andy’s Lighthouse)
Cheryl,
Thank you so much for your words of support and camaraderie! I was happy to meet you, too, and hope to connect again. 🙂
First I wish to compliment you on an exceptional site. I am a retired administrator of an EAP for a large corporation in the midwest. I am 66 years old, female, and healthy for my age. I am very comfortable financially and have a generous number of friends. What I wish to share, is that I am one of those individuals who has chronic suicidal thoughts. I was raised in an intensely, physically and emotionally abusive home. All adults present were severe alcoholics. To get to the point, I thought of, planned, and collected, items that would be needed for a successful suicide. I told no one, I made no attempts. However, my intentions were decidedly lethal. This behavior started around age 8. This behavior continues to this day even though I now realize the possibility of actually taking this action is remote. I believed being prepared to take control of the emotional pain and knowing I had the power to end it at any time….made me the master of my life instead of blind circumstance. It acts as a safety net to what I was willing to endure. This gave me even greater endurance. Now at age 66, the thoughts are so much a part of me, they are old, reliable, friends. I no longer think of them in desperation, they have become a comfort. I decided at age 60, after retirement, to treat myself to therapy, which I like to think of as a massage for the brain. After a lifetime of silence, I finally shared with my counselor. Her diagnosis; High Functioning Reactive Attachment Disorder. I am very much at home with it now (because of the therapy) and my interior life has improved in many ways….I wrote all of this to encourage others. This is treatable. This is truly something that many suffer . I imagine we would be shocked at the numbers. Thank you so much for the work you are doing ….and for your courage.. Debra
Debra,
You convey powerfully and beautifully how suicidal thoughts can be a way to cope with suffering. What you wrote reminds me of that Nietzche quote: “The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets successfully through many a bad night.” (I also include the quote in my post, “When Suicidal Thoughts Do Not Go Away.”)
I thank you for posting your comment here. It is generous of you to share your own suffering and coping as a means to help others. Many people on this site leave comments describing profound despair and hopelessness. This is understandable given their suicidal state of mind, but I also greatly appreciate when others offer hope that can help balance out the despair.
Thank you, too, for your kind words. I appreciate them!