Mel Turpin died by suicide this week, leaving friends and family stunned. The quotes made by his sister and his neighbor feel uncomfortably familiar. "I didn't know he was depressed. . ." "He never looked upset." Unfortunately the Associated Press leaves these quotes unexamined and without commentary from anyone in the mental health field (http://msn.foxsports.com/nba/story/Coroner-ExKentucky-star-Turpin...). We gape at the great of mystery suicide instead of learning from a difficult loss.
Depression isn't logical. For many, especially men in the 45-55 age range, depression doesn't lend itself to external symptoms that can be viewed by the untrained eye. Depression doesn't cause a rash or show up on an x-ray as a broken bone. The brain, when broken, sometimes gives itself away with strange behavior, but often the subtle symptoms of depression escape even the most loving spouse or friend. Many men, unable able to think of depression as a disease to be managed, cover the tracks of their illness. They accept the irrational thoughts of their broken brains as real.
How do we avoid deaths like Turpin? How do we recognize when depression hits ourselves and others? My advice is twofold:
- know yourself
- have spouse or a couple of friends who know you well and see you multiple times a week
Knowing yourself requires establishing and knowing your own normal. What is your normal amount of sleep, weight, exercise and level of socialization? I've tracked my normal. Journaling keeps me honest with myself. When I'm depressed I lose weight, don't sleep, don't have time to exercise and withdraw from others. If these symptoms go without correction for a long period of time, my symptoms worsen. My optimism evaporates. I stop talking. Suicidal thoughts emerge. After a brush with suicide in 2001, I've learned to manage the small symptoms early rather than wait for my broken brain to tell me something crazy (e.g., the world would be a better place if I were dead).
My family and friends help me when I have trouble seeing myself clearly. They tell me to pace myself when I've worked myself into a manic frenzy. They plead with me to rest. I don't always listen to them, but I respect their voices now. Best of all, these people don't allow my terminal seriousness to turn my thinking bleak. They're fun. They help me laugh at myself. They give me hugs.
In this age of excessive technology, we sometimes forget the importance of face-to-face, physical contact. An email, a facebook wall post, or a tweet doesn't give us enough clues to know when someone is hurting. If this is the bulk of your interaction with your friends, do me a favor this next week. Meet a friend for a walk or a cup of coffee. Give him or her a hug. Listen. If you or your friend needs help, don't let the symptoms get worse. Call for help. Learn from Mel and save a life.
Julie Hersh
My book Struck by Living is available on IPAD and Kindle. To find out where I'm speaking next, check out my website www.struckbyliving.com/events
