A tribute to Glenn and Darren
Trigger warning: Mental illness/suicide.
“Don’t put that toy in there!” I was told as a young boy of about six years old. I reluctantly removed my Spider-Man toy from my cousin Glenn’s coffin. I was a small boy and it was my first brush with death. It is one of my most vivid childhood memories.
Glenn died around age 18 from, we believe, schizophrenia (there was a family history on his dad’s side). Some might say he chose to end his own life, I say that he lost his battle with mental illness.
Glenn was the most amazing older cousin a younger lad could ask to have. He was about 13 years older than my next oldest cousin. He loved Star Wars, Superman, Spider-Man and took great joy in indulging us with his imagination. I have vivid memories of wrestling of Glenn, along with his twin brother Darren, and thinking they were the two coolest people on the planet.
Glenn and Darren both lived with us for a time. My parents were very gracious for inviting him into their home to try to help him establish a new life in Goderich.
Glenn seemed to doing OK, though, despite losing his father to schizophrenia several years earlier. Darren was a bit more moody and folks were worried about him. But not Glenn. He was full of laughter, fun, and good wrestling. The best friend a 6 year old could ever ask for, really.
When he lost his battle and ended his life, the family was shocked. As a young boy I lost my idol and good friend.
I was probably given the new Spider-Man toy as a distraction to play with for the funeral. I did not know what death was nor understand that he was gone. Forever. I did not know my family was reeling from the death of this remarkable young man.
I knew Glenn would be as excited as I was to see my new Spider-Man toy, so I was attempting to show it to him. He would totally rock playing with it. My family thought I was trying to throw the toy in with him, and did not want me to lose it. I cried as I was taken away — not because I knew I would never see my cousin again, but in a child’s rage at not being able to show my joy of a new toy with my buddy. As I was taken away from the casket I recall being sad that Glenn could not share in my joy.
I know Glenn would have been overjoyed to share that experience with me had he been able to do so.
Over the years, I grew to be angry at him for choosing to end his own life, and the negative impact it had on his family and my life. I did not understand why he would choose to no longer be part of my life. My family, my parents, struggled with unanswerable questions about why and what could they have done differently.
I could not understand how he could chose to end a life so full of love and promise.
As I’ve grown older, and worked in the mental health space, I have become more frustrated with myself for being angry with him for so long. Glenn’s death — a battle with mental illness — is no different than someone battling cancer and dying. Society is beginning to wake up to this fact, and reframing the blame from the individual to the mental illness that consumed him.
We tend to think that when we’re mentally well that we can control and direct our thoughts. Therefore someone who is mentally ill must be weak.
We accept that we can keep our bodies healthy with exercise and proper nutrition, but that sometimes the body becomes ill despite our best efforts and forms cancer, heart attacks, diabetes or other incurable forms of illness.
The brain is just another organ and it can be diseased like any other organ that we have.
Until we accept that a wound or death incurred from a mental illness is no less the fault of the victim than cancer or other physical ailments we will continue the prejudice, stigma and keep people who are ill from seeking help.
Glenn’s twin brother Darren bravely battled the disease for several years, ultimately losing the battle 20 years after his twin. I can’t imagine his struggles in life knowing both his father and twin brother died by suicide.
As I came to my understanding of mental illness, I was able to tell Darren I was proud of him. I regret that I could not do more for them. I also know that society has changed, our view on mental health has changed, and that we need to continue to do better for future Glenn and Darrens.
It’s why I’m sharing some of my own stories — including this one — and supporting #BellLetsTalk day.
On this day of reflection on mental health, I would like to say to Glenn and Darren — I am proud of you for fighting your illness as long as you did, and I’m sad that you’re gone.
