Mental Health Awareness Month and A Tragic Suicide; Why Mental Health Empowerment Matters.
May is not just a month of blooming flowers and warmer weather; it’s also Mental Health Awareness Month, a time to shed light on a serious issue that affects so many of us. An ever growing epidemic that is silently killing men and women all over the world.
Reflecting on Mental Health Awareness Month brings a whirlwind of emotions, each memory a poignant reminder of the journey I’ve been on since the devastating loss that forever altered the landscape of my life. May, with its blooming flowers, stunning sunsets, and warming breezes, now carries a somber undertone, serving as both a tribute to the resilience of the human spirit and a solemn commemoration of the profound sorrow that has shaped my existence.
May 22 will forever mark the anniversary of the most heart-shattering day of my life. That morning, I awoke to a silent phone lit with a dozen missed calls. With a sinking heart, I called back the most recent number—my friend Brandy. Through her tears, she delivered news that would forever alter my world. I can still hear the crack in her voice as she sobbed, “Omg Katy, you don’t know? I don’t want to tell you!” It pains me that she had to be the one to bear the weight of telling me. She didn’t want to, but she did. Hearing her words, I collapsed on my bedroom floor, crying out a desperate “NO” before hanging up, gasping for breath. Brandy later said I sounded like a balloon quickly inflated and then released, squealing, untied and spiraling out of control.
Sitting alone on my floor, hyperventilating and dizzy, the weight of grief was crushing. I was in utter disbelief and devastation. I wanted so badly my reality to all be a lucid nightmare that would end at any minute. I couldn’t get my thoughts or words together. It’s a feeling to this day, even with other losses I’ve yet to feel.
“Jon’s open casket funeral was heartbreakingly surreal, marking one of the darkest days of my life. Dressed in a suit to conceal the marks on his neck left by the rope and adorned with a burgundy thick tie. he appeared so peaceful, as if merely asleep”.
In my cries I knew where I could go, I grabbed my keys and I drove to a small brown church near my old apartment, a sanctuary I knew was open around the clock. I stumbled inside, walked down the aisle, and fell to the ground at the front of the church altar, my tears uncontainable. “How could he do this?” I wondered. He knew the devastation this would bring to those who unconditionally loved him throughout all of his faults. He knew what it would do to me since we had just had the convo a month before. I was so angry at him, so hurt, so shocked.
It was in that moment that I knew the pain was forever over for him, but that pain wasn’t in fact destroyed, but merely transferred to those who loved him in the most unconditional of ways. It would be my first lessons on loving without conditions and also on Einstein’s law of energy. It states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed- only converted from one form to another. And just like that, Jon’s pain was not destroyed, it was transferred and converted to me and became my darkness.
Jon’s open casket funeral was heartbreakingly surreal, marking one of the darkest days of my life. Dressed in a suit to conceal the marks on his neck left by the rope and adorned with a burgundy thick tie. he appeared so peaceful, as if merely asleep. I stood by his casket for hours, unable to pull myself away, fully aware that these were my final moments with him. The last I would ever see his physical body. I stayed from the first mournful greeting to the last tearful goodbye, my heart sinking as the time to close the casket came. When they finally did, my grief overflowed. I found myself sobbing, hyperventilating, my knees giving way, pleading for just a bit more time,
With trembling hands, I placed a heartfelt letter beside him in the casket—words of love and regret, apologies for not taking his struggles more seriously, for the unkind arguments and words, for the toxicity we shared, and for not insisting on therapy or seeking spiritual support. It was my goodbye I never got to say.
“It was a terrifying echo of Jon’s despair, a stark reminder of the devastating ripple effects of suicide. The journey ahead promised to be long and filled with sorrow, a path marked by loss and heartbreak, but necessary to transform”.
After his funeral, I learned something that haunts me still. The pastor at the church where we held the service revealed that Jon had visited alone, sitting quietly in the back pew, just weeks before his death. The pastor expressed his deep regret for not approaching Jon, recognizing too late the silent cry for help from a young man who came to a new church to sit alone.
That evening, the overwhelming sorrow and guilt drove me to the emergency room, consumed by a panic attack so severe it felt like my own life was slipping away. It was a terrifying echo of Jon’s despair, a stark reminder of the devastating ripple effects of suicide. The journey ahead promised to be long and filled with sorrow, a path marked by loss and heartbreak, but necessary to transform.
Throughout my life, I’ve faced an immense amount of loss, each leaving its mark in its own profound way. Yet, none has shaped me quite like that first, sudden, and utterly preventable loss. It was a turning point, a moment that redefined the trajectory of my adult life, etching a deep, unyielding line in my memory. Despite enduring further heartaches, like the devastating loss of my closest friend to cancer, none have pierced my heart quite like that initial grief.
” It’s as if each loss has built upon the last, leaving me fortified yet distant, prepared yet perpetually reflective on the fragility of life”.
This accumulation of loss has fortified me in an unexpected way. I’ve developed a resilience towards death, a capacity to confront it directly, almost devoid of emotion, not out of indifference but from the sheer frequency of its visitations. It’s as if each loss has built upon the last, leaving me fortified yet distant, prepared yet perpetually reflective on the fragility of life.
Jon was a mosaic of complexities—beautiful, charming, and radiantly warm, yet profoundly troubled. His dark brown hair, prominent brow, and deep-set eyes adorned with the longest, most striking eyelashes painted a picture of a man who was visually unforgettable, complemented by a smile so infectious it could light up the darkest rooms.
The last words he ever shared with me, a month before his untimely departure, were, “Katy, you know when I love, I love with my whole heart.” Those words have echoed in my mind ever since, a haunting reminder of what was and what could have been. Our final conversation was in April, right after a fierce argument and his harrowing overdose on 36 Klonopin pills. Miraculously, he survived that day, giving us one last chance to speak, to mend fences—something I now hold onto with gratitude, relieved that our last words weren’t marred by anger and heartbreak.
Jon’s life was a pendulum swinging between exhilarating highs and devastating lows. Although never formally diagnosed, looking back, I see the signs of manic depression woven through the fabric of his behaviors—his relentless pursuit of highs from substances, from fleeting relationships, from reckless adventures. It explains so much about the toxicity that permeated our relationship—the lies, the infidelity, the emotional rollercoasters that left us both breathless and broken.
“My understanding now, tinged with regret, is a stark reminder of the complexities of mental health and the critical need for deeper awareness and support”.
He had a way of loving that was all-consuming, making you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. Yet, this same intensity often spiraled into cycles of emotional pain and turmoil. I don’t believe Jon fully understood the impact of his actions; he was young, caught in the throes of his own demons. To me, he was like an addictive drug—lifting me to heights of euphoria, only to plunge me into depths of despair, disappearing only to return and repeat the cycle. Our relationship was an endless ride of highs and lows, promises of a better future followed by the stark reality of our struggles, this yoyo type, rollercoaster of a relationship went on and off for 4 years.
Reflecting on those tumultuous years, I see both the beauty and the tragedy of our connection. It was draining, yes, and profoundly sad, but also filled with moments of genuine love and joy. Despite the pain, these memories of Jon, in all their complexity, foster a hope within me—a hope that understanding and compassion for those like Jon can grow, and that we can learn to love even the most troubled souls with patience and a deeper awareness of their battles.
Reflecting on Jon, I see a tapestry woven with deep-seated pain and vulnerabilities. His struggles with addiction and depression stemmed largely from his family dynamic—topics he seldom discussed, but when he did, his words painted a vivid picture of a soul both wounded and lonely. He was far from okay, desperately needing emotional support that he perhaps couldn’t seek openly due to his guarded nature. Lacking the necessary validation and care he wanted, Jon sought solace in fleeting connections, turning to friends and romantic entanglements that unfortunately led him down darker paths involving drugs and alcohol.
” I forgive myself for not fully understanding the depth of despair he was submerged in, possibly masked by the shame that keeps so many of us silently agonizing”.
Jon’s charisma was undeniable—charming, funny, and affectionate, he naturally drew people to him. Women in particular seemed captivated by him, something that never failed to surprise me, though it raised questions about the complexities of relationships and fidelity.
After witnessing multiple suicide attempts and his cries for help, I believed, perhaps naively, that they were more cries for attention than genuine threats. I even felt like staying with him in such a tangled toxic web, was me just staying to keep him safe from more pain and loss and safe from hurting himself. I didn’t think he would really harm himself enough to end his life.
In retrospect, I painfully recognize that Jon was indeed capable of following through. His larger-than-life persona, his fearlessness in the face of challenges—he was someone who, if determined, could very well make such a tragic decision. My understanding now, tinged with regret, is a stark reminder of the complexities of mental health and the critical need for deeper awareness and support.
For years, I harbored a deep-seated anger towards Jon for the wounds he left on my heart. His actions shattered my ability to trust, casting long shadows over my relationships and coloring them with doubt and fear. I was especially hurt that he didn’t reach out to me the last time, breaking the pattern of previous crises where a call to me might have diverted his course. According to his suicide letter, he admitted feeling that he had lived far longer than he should have. This left me grappling with immense guilt—what more could I have done? Why didn’t he take up my offer to help him start a new life in LA with me?
These questions tormented me, underscoring a painful truth: you can’t fix someone, you can’t compel them to change or find happiness. All you can do is offer your love and guidance, and hope they can take it.
“By sharing My story, even its darkest chapters, I believe we can offer support, guidance, or inspiration to others, helping them navigate their own struggles, no matter which side of the story they find themselves on”.
Today, as I reflect on Jon, I strive to release the bitterness and the resentment. The anger I felt at him for dying, for taking part of my life with him, felt justified because, as I had told him in our last conversation, “If anything happens to you, it happens to me, and I’ll have to live on this earth insane without you.” I meant every word. The years that followed were incredibly difficult; I cried more in those initial days and weeks than I had in the decade before. I was utterly broken.
With that said, I’ve finally found the strength to forgive myself for the toxicity that once thrived in my relationship with Jon. I forgive myself for not fully understanding the depth of despair he was submerged in, possibly masked by the shame that keeps so many of us silently agonizing. When I reflect on the hurtful things Jon did, I realize they weren’t reflective of his true self, but rather expressions of his own pain—hurt people tend to hurt others, perpetuating a cycle that only breaks when confronted with healing and understanding.
Jon had immense love to offer, yet it was intertwined with emotional turmoil that hindered his ability to love fully. There have been countless moments since his passing when I’ve deeply wished he could see the woman I’ve become, witness the changes and growth in my life. Despite the pain he caused, my love for him remained; he was my first love, the first in many pivotal experiences in my life, some uniquely shared only with him. He occupies a significant place in my heart.
“As we each journey through our own mental health landscapes, it’s vital to hold each other up and make our well-being a priority.”
What I hope now is that Jon’s story, and the grief that his family and I have felt, might resonate with others. My desire is for our experience to encourage someone out there to seek the help they need, whether it’s to heal and grow, or simply to find the will to carry on. I am committed to ensuring Jon’s death is not in vain. By sharing our story, even its darkest chapters, I believe we can offer support, guidance, or inspiration to others, helping them navigate their own struggles, no matter which side of the story they find themselves on. This commitment to openness is not just a tribute to Jon’s memory but a glimpse of hope that our shared pain can light the way for healing and redemption for others.
As we each journey through our own mental health landscapes, it’s vital to hold each other up and make our well-being a priority. In my upcoming blog post, I’ll delve into effective ways to support friends who are grappling with mental health challenges. We’ll discuss how to spot the signs of distress, the importance of nurturing our own mental health, and explore natural methods to alleviate depression and anxiety.
Some Quick Facts for You;
Prevalence of Mental Illness in Women:
According to the World Health Organization (WHO), women are more likely than men to experience common mental health disorders such as depression and anxiety.
The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) states that approximately 1 in 5 women in the United States experience a mental health condition each year.
Suicide Rates Among Women:
While women are more likely to experience depression and anxiety, men are more likely to die by suicide. However, suicide rates among women have been increasing in recent years.
According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), in the United States, the suicide rate among women increased by 33% between 1999 and 2019.
Anxiety Disorders in Women:
Anxiety disorders are among the most common mental health conditions, and women are more likely than men to be diagnosed with them.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) is one of the most prevalent anxiety disorders, affecting approximately 3.1% of the U.S. adult population, with women being diagnosed at higher rates than men, according to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America (ADAA).
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in Women:
PTSD can occur after experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event, and women are more likely to develop PTSD than men.
The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs reports that about 10% of women develop PTSD during their lifetime, compared to about 4% of men.
Panic Disorder in Women:
Panic disorder involves recurrent panic attacks and can significantly impact daily life. Women are more likely than men to be diagnosed with panic disorder.
The ADAA states that about 5% of the U.S. adult population experiences panic disorder, with women being affected at roughly twice the rate of men.
These statistics highlight the importance of addressing women’s mental health issues, providing support and resources, and breaking down the stigma surrounding mental illness and seeking help.
When a friend is struggling with their mental health, it can be challenging to know how to help. The first step is to be there for them, offering a listening ear without judgment. Let them know you care and that they’re not alone. Encourage them to seek professional help if needed and offer to accompany them to appointments or support them in finding resources.
It’s essential to recognize the warning signs of mental illness or suicidal tendencies in our loved ones. These signs can vary depending on the person and the specific condition they’re experiencing.
Some common signs include:
Withdrawal from social activities
Changes in mood or behavior
Increased use of alcohol or drugs
Expressing feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness
Talking about death or suicide
Actual suicidal threats or attempts. Please take these very seriously.
If you observe any of these warning signs in a friend or loved one, it’s important to act. Reach out and let them know you are available to support them. Encourage them to seek professional help. Removing the stigma and shame often associated with mental health struggles can be incredibly healing. Validate their feelings, offer positive encouragement, and try to connect with their experiences. Even small acts of kindness or a few encouraging words can make a significant difference. Remind them of their worth and the transient nature of life’s challenges with reassurances like, “This too shall pass.” Life has its ups and downs, and while it’s not always easy, it’s essential we build our resilience together.
In our efforts to support others, we can’t neglect our own mental health. Self-care is crucial, and it looks different for everyone. Whether it’s practicing mindfulness, exercising regularly, yoga, or engaging in hobbies that bring us joy, carving out time for ourselves is essential for maintaining mental well-being.
While professional help may be necessary for some, there are also natural methods that can help alleviate symptoms of depression and anxiety.
These include:
Regular exercise: Physical activity has been shown to boost mood and reduce symptoms of depression and anxiety.
Healthy eating: Fueling our bodies with nutritious foods can have a positive impact on our mental health.
Mindfulness and meditation: Practices like mindfulness and meditation can help reduce stress and promote relaxation.
Spending time in nature: Connecting with nature has been linked to improved mental well-being.
Coping with Suicidal Thoughts
If you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, it’s essential to reach out for help immediately. You are not alone, and there are people who care about you and want to support you. Here are some steps you can take:
Reach out to a trusted friend or family member and let them know how you’re feeling.
Call a crisis hotline or text a crisis helpline for immediate support.
Seek help from a mental health professional or visit the nearest emergency room.
Remember, there is hope, and there are people who can help you through this difficult time.
As we observe Mental Health Awareness Month, let’s commit to supporting one another in our mental health journeys. By being there for friends in need, recognizing warning signs, prioritizing our own well-being, and exploring natural ways to cope, we can foster a culture of empowerment and resilience. Remember, it’s okay not to be okay, and seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Together, we can break the stigma surrounding mental illness and create a more supportive and compassionate world for all.
In finishing, I ask If you are reading this and have ever considered suicide as an option, I beg you to pause and reflect. Think of your family and friends, the ones who would be left to deal with the aftermath of such a decision, bearing a pain that is truly beyond words. Consider your future and the myriad possibilities it holds, the different paths your story could take. Like any novel, not every chapter is filled with joy—some are tough, and it’s impossible to predict when things might begin to turn around. Please, keep turning the pages.
Remember, even if you face several challenging chapters, I urge you not to give up. There is so much life ahead, filled with moments that could alter its course and enrich its meaning. Hold on to that. Believe in the promise of change and maintain hope. Know deeply that you are loved by many and by me! Take Care and God Bless you.
To those who have survived a suicide attempt, or who have lost someone to this tragedy, I extend my deepest condolences. The road you walk is steeped in complex emotions—grief, guilt, anger, sadness. Allow yourself to feel these emotions; sit with them, and then let them pass. They are natural, and they will eventually help shape who you become. Choose to transform your pain into strength, to use it as a force for good in the world.
Know that you are not alone in this journey. I am here with you, along with a community ready to support and uplift you. Take care of your heart, cherish it, and let time work its gentle magic. Together, we can rise from the ashes, more resilient and compassionate than ever spreading kindness and love to those who need it the most.
with so much love,
XOXO
KJ