My sister has Major Depressive Disorder, or MDD. If you look up MDD on Google it will tell you that “it is a mental disorder characterized by at least two weeks of low mood that is present across most situations. It is often accompanied by low self-esteem, loss of interest in normally enjoyable activities, low energy, and pain without a clear cause. People may also occasionally have false beliefs or see or hear things that others cannot.”
According to Wikipedia, the haunting statistic is that between 2-7% of adults with major depression die by suicide. You may be thinking that 2-7% is nothing–but read it again. These people aren’t dying from a disease; they aren’t dying of natural causes. They are choosing to physically end their own lives because the chemical imbalances in their brain don’t let them enjoy living. This is a concept that I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around.
Major Depressive Disorder can be genetic. My grandfather had it, my mom has it and my brother has it. So my family is prone to depression. Unfortunately, my sister has it too. Even more unfortunate, she has the worst case in our family yet.
We didn’t know my sister was depressed; she never said anything. And then one call during my spring semester of freshman year changed my life.
My sister, who goes to a different university than I do, was trying to FaceTime me when I was hanging out with my friends. So, I quickly excused myself and walked back to my room to say a quick hello before I went back to hang out. But, when the call finally connected, I saw my sister on the other side of the screen; she was hysterically crying. The only words she could clearly get out were, “I’m going home.”
A million thoughts raced through my mind. I thought maybe a family member had died, I thought maybe she had broken her arm or maybe she got arrested and was getting kicked out. Nothing prepared me for the next sentence she said to me.
She collected herself and said the five haunting words I will never forget.
“I tried to kill myself.”
My first reaction was to comfort her, tell her everything was going to be okay and try my best to calm her down. My mom was already on her way to pick her up from school, driving the four hours to her as quickly as she could.
I felt completely helpless. I was so far away from her, I couldn’t hug her, I couldn’t get to her anytime soon if I wanted to. She told me she didn’t want to talk long because she was waiting with her roommates in their living room until my mom got there; she told me she didn’t want to see me “disappointed.”
I was at a loss for words. I walked back down to my friend’s room, and I couldn’t process what had just happened. When I opened the door my friends turned to look at me. They said I was white as a ghost. They asked me what was wrong. Standing there, the words just fell right out of my mouth, “My sister just tried to kill herself.” Then I collapsed on the floor. I couldn’t breathe; I just cried while my friends tried to calm me down.
My sister was placed in a mental health facility for a couple of weeks. When I visited, it seemed like a prison, but it looked like a school building. My family went through hell that day, and it chilled us to the bone that my sister was now currently living there, in the prison look-alike, being poked and prodded by the doctors who were trying to figure out how to make her happy again.
That was the spring of my freshman year and I am now a senior in college. Since then, I have learned everything there is to know about MDD and how to treat people with depression. I know what things to say and not to say–and I truly wish everyone was as educated as I am.
I was one week after Worldwide Suicide Prevention Day. Because of my sister’s story, this day obviously resonated with me, making me feel the need to spread awareness. So, that’s just what I did.
Early on in the day, I saw that one of my Facebook friends posted a status explaining that it was Suicide Prevention Day, and she challenged her Facebook friends to copy and paste the same post to help spread awareness. After reading this I thought, sure! Why not?! The status included a suicide hotline for anyone to use, so I thought that maybe if I reposted it would not only be spreading awareness about the day and the disease, but it might also help someone who’s struggling like my sister was, and it would maybe help give them the push to call.
So, I posted it and felt great, like I had done my part. However, it was up only for an hour or so when I received my first notification that said somebody had commented on my post. I went to read it and the comment read, “I wish people wouldn’t just share stuff like this and instead actually reach out to someone who is in pain, it is not that hard to see.”
I was overcome with so many emotions at that point I had no idea what to do or say. I didn’t think that anyone was going to comment negatively on my post, let alone be so completely ignorant about it.
In the past two years that I’ve dealt with my sister and shared her story, I have realized how uneducated America really is on dealing with people with depression and any other mental disorders. But, I don’t want them to be–I want them to know how to help my sister and others who have mental illnesses.
The times that I’ve told my close friends about her situation, they come away from it seeming confused. They say things and ask me things like, “Why doesn’t she just go home and not go to school?” and “Why is she so sad? I don’t understand how she almost killed herself?” and “Why doesn’t she just do stuff that makes her happy?” The list goes on and on and on.
Basically everyone that I’ve come into contact with and have talked with about depression, doesn’t understand the first thing about it. And that’s what I want to change.
When we first started taking care of my sister and paying very close attention to what she did, my family would try and motivate her by reminding her of things that she could do to help make herself happy. For example, keeping a journal, exercising and being around people she loved were some of the things we would suggest. But, she would just get frustrated or upset, so we finally realized that the technique we were approaching her with was never going to work; I don’t think it would work with anybody who thinks the way my sister does.
What we learned was that you have to take baby steps when trying to help somebody with MDD. First off, you have to be there for them 24/7. You have to say things like, “It’s okay to feel like that,” and “I’m here if you need me” and “I understand, and if you want to talk about it you can”. You can’t force it out of the person, and it seems that people today don’t really understand that.
So, when that friend on Facebook said that my post wasn’t helpful and I should just reach out to someone to help, I simply replied with this:
“How completely ignorant of you. I shared this because if you knew anything about having people in your life that are struggling with this, you would know that their mental capacity does not always give them strength to reach out to others. You rarely ever know anyone is struggling until it’s too late. It’s posts like this that give people who are silently struggling the urge to get help from professionals or other people without making a big deal about their situation. Please refrain from trying to say that I’m not doing any good by posting this when you don’t know for sure if it will help or not.”
Depression is not something people want to admit they have. Yeah sure, you can sometimes tell when somebody has it, but if you can’t tell, you might be too late. Sometimes when it’s obvious that a person is sad or isolated, nobody tries to do anything, and I have very big doubts that anyone would be willing to go out of their way for a stranger to try to help them get over their depression.
What people need to do is educate themselves on the signs of depression, learn ways to help people cope with depression, and learn how to be a good and positive support system.
I challenge you readers to go and research and educate yourselves. Stick up for those who are struggling, smile at someone who isn’t. Even when someone casually says “I’m going to kill myself,” tell them to not joke like that. If we do just even one of these little things, we might just save a life.
If you or someone you know is going through depression, don’t hesitate to get help.
Visit this website, and call this number. They are avaliable to talk whenever you need it and are there to help, so don’t be scared to call.