We Need Less Judgement

“What mental health needs is more sunlight, more candor, and more unashamed conversation.”

Glenn Close

One day In September 2005, I was at Camp Gruber in eastern Oklahoma with several Oklahoma State Department of Health colleagues when I received a message on my pager (for those who don’t recognize the term “pager” – Google it). The number on the pager was my office number.

Weeks earlier Hurricane Katrina had descended on New Orleans. After days of heavy rains, the levees and flood walls designed to protect the city failed, which caused massive flooding in 80% of New Orleans. More than 1,000 individuals died and more than 40,000 were evacuated from the city. Most of the evacuees left with little or no personal belongings and were sent to various locations in Texas, Oklahoma and other states. Camp Gruber was one of the locations that received evacuees. On that September afternoon in 2005 I was at Camp Gruber because the state health department was conducting a rapid needs assessment to determine the immediate health and social needs of individuals who had been evacuated. My staff knew where I was and what I was doing, so getting a message to call the office meant that something was seriously wrong.

When my distraught staff member answered the phone, she told me that a young man who had been working for us part-time on a grant-funded project had died by suicide. The news shocked and devasted our staff. Another staff member who was with me at Camp Gruber and I immediately drove back to Oklahoma City to be with our colleagues.

When we arrived at the office, we found pretty much what I expected – our grief-stricken staff being comforted and consoled by other colleagues in our building who had heard the news and had come to our office to offer assistance. My friend Leslea, who was the department’s Public Information Officer at the time, had already called the Employee Assistance Program.

As I was comforting one staff member after another, I recall one of my male colleagues saying, “Don’t let this get to you, Shelli. Suicide is a chicken-shit thing to do. He was a coward.”

I was speechless.

I’m not a behavioral health expert, but one of my first assignments early in my injury and violence prevention career was to prepare a white paper on suicide. Suicide is a serious public health problem that claims the lives of more than 40,000 individuals each year, near the same number of persons who were displaced by Hurricane Katrina. The project that the young man had been working on was the National Violent Death Reporting System (NVDRS) funded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The purpose of NVDRS is to collect data on violent deaths (including suicide) and their circumstances to better inform how to prevent these deaths and increase factors that promote resilience. What we know is that the causes of suicide are complex and often determined by multiple factors.

Individuals who die by suicide are NOT “chicken-shit” nor cowards. My colleague’s calloused comment that day was demoralizing and contributes to the continued stigma surrounding mental health.

I have several family members and friends who have suffered from clinical depression; but with the help of medication and access to good behavioral health services, they are all highly functional and successful. While I have been fortunate that I don’t have this condition, a few years ago, I too, was burdened by situational depression. For several months, I was barely functional and certainly not productive. During that time, my deteriorating emotional health also impacted my physical health. Because I also have access to good mental health services, and a cadre of knowledgeable and supportive friends, I was able to overcome my depression. As grateful as I am for the support of my close friends, I also experienced feelings of judgment and anger from other people in my life. The unwillingness to understand the importance of mental health continues to sadden me.

Early on a November morning in 2009, I received another call. The call was from sister-in-law telling me that my nephew (her 20-year-old son) had died by suicide. The news rocked me to my core. I was the injury and violence prevention professional in our family. I had studied suicide, yet I was not able to help my own nephew. I felt like I had failed him, my sister-in-law, and his brother.

It’s been 10 years since I received that call from my sister-in-law. I miss my nephew. I miss being able to have conversations with him as a 30-year-old young man and learning about his spirited philosophical views. I miss what could have been.

Life can be hard. Everyone struggles. Those who have resiliency resources – emotional, physical, and financial – are better able to cope with the complexities. We need less judgement. We need to invest in strategies to build resilience for everyone. Because of my nephew, I will spend the remainder of my life trying to do just that.

If you are struggling with suicide ideation or know someone who is, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1.800.273.TALK (8255) or text HELLO to 741741

“Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.”

Lemony Snicket, The Blank Book