You Will Never Completely Understand Depression And Suicide
He was in a band whose debut album recently sold its ten millionth copy. His career was based on performing in front of thousands of people every night who sang along to every word. He lived in an affluent neighborhood, and had more money than most of us could ever dream of. He was famous, loved by thousands, if not millions. He was a father and a husband.
There was no reason for him to commit suicide.
So you say; without realizing no matter how much research you do, no matter how much you are personally affected by mental illness, you will never completely understand how someone with the things we dream of having could ever be depressed and commit suicide.
When Linkin Park first hit the scene, they became one of my favorite bands. For the last few years, they have been placed on the back burner as one of the bands I used to love, but no longer follow or listen to, but the band will always hold some place in my heart, whether that spot is small or large.
In 2003, they released their sophomore album Meteorea; during one of the worst times of my life. I was dealing with a truckload of issues. In many ways I felt completely alone. It was music, and songs like Numb that helped me deal with the isolation, and made me believe there were others out there who felt as worthless as I did; fearing they will never accomplish any goals, or become someone they want to be. From the moment I first heard the song, Numb became a permanent fixture on my playlist, when I need the beautiful art, known as music, to put my life in perspective, and calm my nerves. I know now, that the man who sang that song, Chester Bennington wrestled with more than a song’s worth of demons. He is the proof that depression doesn’t give a shit about your bank account, or whether you are living a dream. That truth is woefully ignored by anyone who believes certain people are immune from depression.
It was only a few months ago when Bennington spoke honestly about his issues with depression by saying, “My whole life, I’ve just felt a little off. “I find myself getting into these patterns of behaviour or thought — especially when I’m stuck up here [in my head]; I like to say that ‘this is like a bad neighbourhood, and I should not go walking alone’”. In what is thought of as his final interview Bennington, like almost, if not every depressed person, expressed optimism and strength by stating, “I came to a point in my life where I was like, ‘I can either just give up and fucking die or I can fucking fight for what I want.’ And I chose to fight for what I wanted." When you have demons; a terribly troubling past, you hope and pray you can move beyond the past, and live a normal life, but that feat can be an insurmountable challenge.
Bennington was molested as a child; keeping the tragedy secret out of fears he would be thought of as gay, or being accused of lying. Like 29 percent of all people who are diagnosed as mentally ill, he abused drugs, in the hopes he could drown his sorrows away. Despite using anti-depressants and possibly other forms of therapy, like many before and after him, all the treatments at his disposal tragically didn’t prevent him from ending his own life.
His tragic end has brought out the worst opinions of depression and suicide. Korn guitarist Head, personified the stupidity by saying, “Honestly, Chester’s an old friend who we’ve hung with many times, and I have friends who are extremely close to him, but this is truly pissing me off! How can these guys send this message to their kids and fans?! I’m sick of this suicide s***! I’ve battled depression/mental illness, and I’m trying to be sympathetic, but it’s hard when you’re pissed! Enough is enough! Giving up on your kids, fans, and life is the cowardly way out!!!,” and with that, I tell Head, and anyone who thinks like he thinks, to shut the fuck up.
Any time I hear someone say something like, “I battled mental illness, but I didn’t commit suicide,” my first thought is, “congratulations, do you want a medal?” How about a standing ovation, or a, “yay you didn’t commit suicide,” cupcake? I have made some half-assed suicide attempts, I have wanted to kill myself, but the fact that I am still breathing doesn’t mean every other person inflicted with depression will survive. Being depressed doesn’t grant me expertise in the illness, nor does it mean my survival means everyone survives. Because people defeat cancer, that doesn’t mean everyone can. It means even though a person can be exceptionally wealthy, be living a dream, and has a loving family that prolong’s their life, suicide can be deemed the only option to grant yourself peace. What message does Bennington’s suicide send? It tells his fans that depression is a debilitating illness that far too often leads to a tragic conclusion we call suicide.
Suicide therefore; is not selfish, nor is it cowardly. People who deal with mental illness live rough lives; inflicted with a tough disease that is hard to control and live with. Depression isn’t just perpetual sadness. Depression is about always feeling fatigued and tired. It’s about being controlled by fear and anxiety. It feels like you are carrying a weight you can’t handle, and it’s about guilt; feeling ashamed for being depressed. Even the strongest eventually wither away. Even successful victories can lead to failures, and at certain points you no longer have the strength to fit any longer.
The poor, the rich, the famous, and the unknown have all committed suicide, and every single one of those people felt shame or being depressed. I look at my failure to achieve my dream of being a successful writer as a reason for being depressed, I look at my middle class lifestyle, and the paycheck to paycheck life as reasons to feel worthless. In the past when I was single, still living at home, and working a minimum wage paying job, I felt no value in my life, but in moments of clarity I felt shame for seemingly being so ungrateful. Unlike Bennington I was never molested as a kid, my parents have been married for more than thirty years. I have never gone hungry, nor have I been homeless. I’ve been lucky to have never experienced the untimely death of a close friend or family member, and in moments of clarity I know I am lucky, and am grateful. In moments of shame I regret being depressed when my life in comparison of others is heavenly. I know without a shadow of doubt, the poor kid in Africa who has to walk miles for drinking water would trade his or her life for the life of a loser teen without a job, friends, or a girlfriend, without hesitation. And I know even in the moments of peace, I will live with these demons for the rest of my life, and no future success will eradicate them.
We all have blessings. We all have beautiful people in our lives, but mental illness doesn’t care about any of that. Mental illness doesn’t allow for gratitude or confidence. It holds no patience for confidence and security. As of this writing, no one knows exactly why Bennington ended his own life, and quite honestly, the reasoning doesn’t matter. Some demons can be weakened; some demons can grow in strength, and to deem someone a coward for ending their life, because you have miraculously survived is so far beyond ridiculous, there is really no point to even consider the opinion.
Suicide is the tragic end to a still misunderstood disease. Mental illness is the sickest of villains. And those who suffer from any or all mental illnesses live lives of uncertainties. A simple job loss, a breakup, or diagnosis can give those demons the strength to destroy you. Personally I am in an alright place in my life, but I have no idea when or how I will die, or if I will take my own life.
If you know me personally you may not understand why I would be depressed, and why I would ever end my own life, but there is nothing to understand. Only Chester Bennington knew what was going on in his head, he had a front row seat to the tragedy of self doubt and pain; only he took the most vicious strikes to his soul. And only the individual who is inflicted with depression lives with the worst of the disease. To contemplate the reasons, and to question why a famous rock star would end his own life is a journey with no conclusion, other than you will never know why, and you will never feel exactly how he felt. We can increase resources, try to understand, and try to be available to our inflicted loved ones, but there will never be a sufficient conclusion as to why anyone will end their lives, because only that individual truly knows what the demons are doing, and how destructive those demons can be. No amount of fame, fortune, or love can change that.
Be a good friend; donate to mental health charities, and push for better resources, but don’t bother to completely understand the tragedy. No amount of research, no amount of attention can ever make you completely understand what is going on in the mind of an individual and what they wrestled with.
