https://www.thecut.com/2018/06/a-mother-considers-her-sons-final-thoughts.html
Firstly, let me say how sorry I am for this mother’s loss. Losing a child is always a heart wrenching experience, but especially to suicide. That being said, there are so many erroneous or questionable aspects to this story.
The author states that there were no red flags prior to her son’s suicide, yet she mentions several in her story. According to Ms. Greene, Sol went to college specifically to play soccer and then didn’t get off the bench. Sol also asked his parents to stop coming to the soccer games. These would be two big red flags to me. I also have the feeling that there must have been some other “impulsive” activity in Sol’s life that is being left out of the story.
Ms. Greene writes about Anthony Bourdain and how his mother said she would never think of him as committing suicide. Bourdain was an addict… who still drank alcohol. Substance and alcohol addictions often start as maladaptive stress responses… and I would argue that suicide is also a maladaptive stress response. Through the view of this new paradigm, so called “impulsive” suicides can be seen less as outliers of behavioral patterns. Also, most of what I have read regarding impulsive suicides deals with young people, mostly teens. I can’t remember reading anything about people in their 60’s committing impulsive suicide without a pattern of impulsive behavior.
Ms. Greene quotes Kevin Hines regarding his suicide attempt… “Kevin climbed over the railing, leaned back, let go, and felt, he says, ‘instant regret, powerful, overwhelming. As I fell, all I wanted to do was reach back to the rail, but it was gone.’ He plummetted [sic] 220 feet in four seconds, going 75 miles per hour and wracked by the thought all the way down: What have I just done? I don’t want to die. God, please save me… He wants everyone to know that the act of suicide leads not to a final sense of satisfaction and relief but to panic-stricken sorrow.” When I shot myself through the heart with a 9mm handgun in November of 1998, it was one of the most peaceful things of my life. After I shot myself, I fell to the ground. I reached out for someone to hold my hand because I did not want to die alone… but I still wanted to die. I was not sorry I had shot myself. I was not “hanging on to life.” Laying there on the ground bleeding and gasping… in the 60 seconds before I passed, was very calm and peaceful. This fact always scared most therapists from working with me afterwards.
A wide variety of people keep telling me that I should “just get over” Lena. They act as if there is something wrong with me because I am “still” sad about our marriage ending. I was with Lena for eight years. What is an appropriate amount of time to be sad over the marriage ending? Is there some cut off date after which I should not cry when I hear a love song that makes me think of her? Is there some predetermined amount of time, that no one has told me about, when it is no longer socially acceptable to be sad over such things?
A friend of mine even suggested I watch a TED Talk by Guy Winch entitled, “How to Heal a Broken Heart.” Winch says that brain imaging studies have shown that suffering from a broken heart is physiologically the same as drug withdrawal. Winch continues on with his advice for healing a broken heart: make a list of all of the bad things about your ex and keep them on your phone… Every time you start to think positive thoughts about them, which he calls “romanticizing them,” look at your phone to remind yourself of the truth — all of the bad things.
Based solely on this video, I think Guy Winch is an ass. I have heard others make similar claims about brain scans and breakups drawing analogies to drugs. I, personally, don’t think everything can be broken down to biological explanations. If we take this assertion at face value, we would have to draw the conclusion that love is bad and should be avoided. If being in love can lead to “withdrawal” on the same level as illicit drugs, it seems rational to avoid being in love. I have argued many times with other “experts” about the biological basis of psychology… I don’t buy it. My second issue with Winch is his advice… write a list of all the horrible things about your ex to help you get over them. This idea totally discounts the fact (at least I think it’s a fact) that love is not logical. I wrote out a list of all of Lena’s “negatives” and all of the reasons we were “not right” for one another. You know what? It did not change the fact one fucking bit that I loved her! Love is not logical. I am sure it was not logical for Lena and I to get married. I know for a fact that her mother gave her many reasons why I was a bad choice for her. I could easily come up with a list of why I am a bad choice for anyone. I was perfectly aware of reasons why she wasn’t “perfect” even when I was actively falling in love with her. If healing a broken heart was as easy as making a shit list about the ex… then maybe it wasn’t really love to start with.
I fully realize that we live in a disposable society. Your TV breaks, don’t fix it… throw it out and buy a new one. Your oven breaks, don’t fix it… throw it out and buy a new one. Many people, who can afford to, even treat cars this way… Oh the car has 50,000 miles… better get rid of it and buy a new one. And… now… we treat relationships the same way. Your marriage is “broken,” don’t worry… throw it out and get a new one. Think I am over simplifying? Look on Amazon for books on divorce. They are almost all written for women… and they all seem to be saying that divorce is the woman’s answer to all of life’s ills.
This first book almost made me want to commit hara kiri! It’s all about the “sisterhood of divorce.” Seriously. Vomit.
“For the more than one million women who get divorced each year, welcome to your support group… Wise, comforting, and uplifting, The Optimist’s Guide to Divorce captures the experience of sisterhood through the voices of its authors and their community of women in the Maplewood Divorce Club”
“Crazy Time offers a sense of hope and confidence that this transition is not only an ending but can also be a valuable beginning.”
Here’s a guide on “protecting your financial future,” i.e. How to screw your husband financially.
“Begin your single life knowing you have made the thoughtful decisions required to help establish your long-term financial security.
Think Financially, Not Emotionally® as you look ahead to a bright future for yourself and your children. ”
I have always said that unfortunately we humans only grow through the negative experiences in our lives. But, does that mean we should create negative experiences just to grow?
“Deb Purdy provides a welcomed road map for transforming the trauma of divorce into a positive, life-changing experience. As a marriage and family therapist, I highly recommend this book to anyone dealing with emotional challenges after divorce.” Dan Valentine, Ph.D.
What ever happened to the value of working things out? Is there no value in staying with someone through the good times and the bad? Why do we even keep those words in wedding vows when they seem to have no meaning what-so-ever today. I don’t like our throw away society whether it’s about material items or especially people. I don’t want to be the kind of person who can just get over an 8 year relationship like it’s a busted toaster. Seriously… that’s how people talk to me… as if I should just move on as if it were nothing. Many people in our society seem to act like this. Half of all marriages end in divorce. Sixty percent of second marriages end in divorce. The majority of kids I know are the kids of divorce. All of this despite research showing that marriage makes for healthier adults and healthier children. But I am the mentally ill one because I don’t want to “just move on.”
This is the second “celebrity” suicide this week. We need to have an honest talk about mental health and suicide.
https://www.cnn.com/2018/06/08/us/anthony-bourdain-obit/index.html
On March 11, 2018 Lena told me that I was a loser. We were talking about my brother, Andy’s, children and I mentioned that Andy wasn’t taking my advice. Lena turned around and looked at me and said, “Why would he listen to you. What have you done…” The end of the sentence kind of trailed off, but the message was clear. What had I done with my life? I, after all, was a loser. It was one of the most hurtful things anyone has ever said to me. I didn’t say anything at the time but it devastated me inside. It was then that I knew our marriage was over as far as Lena was concerned. She had no respect for me at all. I assume she had some respect for me when we got marriage, but at some point all that was left was anger and a total lack of love and respect for me.
I have suffered with mental illness from the earliest years of my childhood. I was openly suicidal by the time I was ten years old. As a child and young adult I never had dreams of what I wanted for the future or what I wanted to be when I grew up… because I had no intention of growing older. As a high school student I could not imagine living into my twenties. I didn’t care about grades or doing well on standardized tests because I didn’t think I would live long enough to go to or finish college. Throughout college I never thought that I would live long enough to graduate; so I made NO plans for an adult life post college. When I did graduate I didn’t have dreams or hopes to live up to or fulfill. I got married shortly after graduating and started my own business, but even engaging in these seemingly “rooting” tasks, I did not think of the future and was actively suicidal. In my mid to late twenties, after my two serious suicide attempts, the doctors told my family that I would most likely never live to see thirty years old. So… as a kid I didn’t care much about grades and as a young adult I didn’t care much at all about money because I did not think I would live long enough for those things to matter. If you combine that lack of caring about grades and money with the fact that I have suffered with various mental illnesses such as depression, suicidality (which is a separate illness and not just a symptom of depression), ADD, and some anti-social traits… I guess it would be fair to say that by societal standards, I have always been a loser and that I remain one to this day.
The first half of my life was spent as a student where despite being “obviously bright” I never did particularly well. I graduated from both high school and college with a 2.9 GPA. I got a 1070 on my SATs. Considering that I come from a very academically oriented family and that I have an IQ that has tested anywhere from the mid 120s to mid 140s, my scholastic life was a continual question of when would I fulfill my potential? As an adult I have never been financially independent. I have worked some, here and there, but never earned enough to support myself. I have lived in homes owned by my parents or my wives. If it were not for my parents and wives there were many times that I would have ended up homeless and hungry… and if that had happened, I would have simply killed myself… without deliberation.
Despite all of the changes during the last seventy years surrounding acceptable roles for women in our culture, societal norms for men have changed very little. Men are judged by their ability to provide financially for their family. Our society measures a man’s worth by his net worth. If given a choice, the parents of most young women would rather their daughters marry a doctor or lawyer over an artist. The doctor or lawyer is statistically much more likely to be able to support a young family than is an artist, many of whom spend a great deal of their lives living in poverty. Women can choose a career or choose to stay at home with children and either choice is acceptable to society. Men have choices in their lives but should be prepared to be judged more harshly than women based on career choices.
Manya-Milaslava (think of a large bitter mean old Russian woman who demands her family glorify her), my mother-in-law, never supported Lena and me getting married. Her objections were so loud that Lena had to give her mother an ultimatum the week before the wedding: come and be quietly supportive or don’t come at all. Throughout the seven years of our marriage Manya was always whispering in Lena’s ear that I was a loser and that she could do better and deserved better. Manya berated me as a loser to my face more than once. It should be noted that Manya never liked or got along with anyone Lena was with for very long. Lena’s mother was a large factor in her first marriage falling apart and in our marriage ending. I once joked with Lena that my only solace was knowing that her mother was so mentally ill herself that she wouldn’t be able to help herself but to be a bitch to the next guy.
My friends and family will tell me that I am not a loser… and I love them for their support. They will point out my many talents and tell me that I have a big heart. All of that is true but may, in fact, prove the loser point. Despite my many talents and my tremendous potential, I have never been a fully autonomous individual. I am not saying here that I am a loser definitively… just by societal standards. And, that’s OK.
I saw this meme online {No one should have to live their life in silence because they’re scared of being invalidated.} and it really made me think about the circumstances that I accepted surrounding the reconciliation with Lena last fall. Last October, when Lena told me she wanted a divorce, I was in shock and desperately wanted to work things out with her. I was so desperate that I agreed to circumstances that had no chances of survival. I gave Lena everything that she asked for and asked not nothing in return, other than to not get divorced. Part of what Lena needed from me was for me to be in Westchester full-time, to get along with everyone there and for us to have a “normal life” in Westchester. In order for me to make this request a reality I had to constantly bite my tongue. Day in and day out was an exercise in me keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself both inside our home and in public. Even our therapist, Ralph, said this was an impossible scenario to keep up.
This notion of a “normal life” had come up numerous times during our seven year marriage. Lena married me knowing all of my history. She knew about my suicide attempts. She knew about my depressions. She knew about my totally dysfunctional family of origin. She knew about my first failed marriage to Ava and the fiasco of a relationship I had with Jessamyn. Lena knew about all of my hospitalizations and all of my psychiatric history. So, one can imagine, it came as somewhat of a shock a year into our marriage when Lena said, “I am a normal person. I want a normal life and a normal marriage. I need you to be normal.” This totally blew me away!
Aside from all of my psychiatric history, which was obviously significant, separate from all of that I was never “normal.” I never wanted to be “normal.” I had always been an outspoken critic of our government and politically correct social trends. I had been a long-time and vocal supporter of various underdogs. I had a long history of writing about my thoughts and predictions for the whole world to read. I had always been known as someone who told people just how things were; there was no beating around the bush with me. There was no way I wanted to be a quiet, sheltered, spineless, voiceless suburban mouse!!!!
The first time Lena brought up this issue of desiring normalcy I really wasn’t sure how to react and probably just ignored her. If she wanted normal, she married the wrong guy. I am not sure if she had any idea of how hurtful this was on her part. Her expressing her desire for normalcy was a direct act of invalidating who I was. She married me knowing exactly what and who I was; and then immediately expected me to change to something completely different. Why do women marry a man and then try to change him? If she wanted me to be different she should have told me before we got married.
I don’t remember exactly when certain things were said, but at some point Lena went as far as to say, “You are not a mental patient anymore.” I assumed, at the time, that she was saying this in a positive way… as in, look how far you have come from the days when your mental illness dominated every aspect of your life. She may have meant it nicely, but in fact, it was very dismissive of me, my history and in part of my very identity. There was a point in my life where I allowed my designation as a mental patient to define who I was. At some point in life, starting before I married Lena, I no longer defined myself by my illnesses. There were, however, some things that were still important to me that Lena never gave credence to… such as the anniversaries of my suicide attempts. She never remembered them… she never asked how I was around those times. To people who have been through what I have, those dates are important. There were also times of each year that tended to be harder for me, specifically the months of March and November. I always seemed to struggle more in those months. Again, Lena either didn’t remember this, despite me telling her several times, or she just didn’t care. Our marriage ended on a horrible note… in March.
Perhaps I expected too much of Lena because of her work. Lena is a molecular biologist who studied the biology of suicide. I thought that she had a better understanding of psychology and specifically of suicide. Apparently, one can study the biology of suicide, and be good at it, and not understand the psychology of suicide at all. I also mistakenly thought she was more in tune to me.
This self portrait displays how I felt… I could not speak because Lena had a gun to my head… If I spoke my mind, she would end the marriage. I was being emotionally held hostage. I feared Lena would become my Natasha; my father’s third wife who beat his spirit dead and held him emotionally hostage.
Appreciative that I got some much needed sun therapy this morning while meditating outside.
Dear Lena,
Yesterday was a horrible day. It really sucked. My mother had a car accident and called me one the phone upset and asking me to come down and help her out. As I pulled into her driveway I got the text from you saying you had gone to a lawyer to initiate the divorce process.
I can’t say that the text came out of the blue; after all, we have been separated for five weeks and have had zero communication for almost two weeks. As I read that text my stomach churned. I almost threw up in the car and I felt like someone had hit me in the groin with a 20 lbs sledgehammer. I felt dizzy and my arrhythmia instantly kicked into high gear. I felt like I did when I shot myself in the chest. I stood outside my car for a minute expecting to collapse. I really felt like I might die right then and there. I am not that lucky.
I know that all you did was call the lawyer. I know you have every right to move forward with a divorce and with your life. I know all of this in my head. I can even give several reasons why we didn’t work out in the past or why it wouldn’t make sense for us to try again. I know we were both unkind to each other at times and especially at the very end. I know I made mistakes. I am well aware of my many imperfections. I know living with me is hard… apparently impossible. I can be grumpy and depressed, sullen and removed, angry and loud, introverted and un-affectionate… I know all of this. Yet despite knowing all of this, I am emotionally devastated. I feel as if I am dying inside.
Yesterday I also realized it wasn’t just the romantic aspects of our relationship that I missed; although I definitely do miss that too. I miss our friendship… the one we had at the beginning and the first few years of our marriage. I miss talking to you about your research. Once you started the new job we lost that connection. So many things changed four and half years ago.
I know there is no going backwards in life. I just wish we could find some different way forward that included us rather than a divided divorced us. There were many good times, yet the bad times seem to crowd out those good memories. I keep thinking about Montreal and Hilton Head… strawberry picking and trips to our river. Even the “little” things like holding you are night when we went to sleep and bringing you coffee in the morning.
I also don’t understand how we both can say the other is the love of our lives, yet we can’t find some way to make things work. If you are the love of my life and I am the love of your life… and we can’t find a way to stay married then love is worthless and I don’t ever want to be in love again. I guess that despite the rough exterior, I am still that kid who believed that love could conquer all. If love doesn’t conquer all… If we, with our love, can’t conquer all… then what is the point of love? What’s the point of life without a love than can indeed conquer all?