The winds were crisp and the sun lent a splendid sparkle to foliage at its peak on Saturday afternoon as a twenty-year-old woman swung her leg up over the railing of the Casco Bay Bridge. We can only imagine what she was thinking as she balanced one foot and then the other, and stood up to look out upon a steel blue bay full of white caps and wave-tossed lobster boats. Did she notice the cruise ship docked in Portland Harbor for the day before she jumped? Yes, that’s right: she jumped.
Chances are good that this woman....someone’s daughter, neighbor, lover, friend....wasn’t aware of the beauty of the day or of her surroundings. As I drove across the bridge yesterday, I couldn’t help but wonder how the previous day had unfolded for her. Did she rise from bed Saturday morning knowing “today is the day”? Maybe she stayed under the quilt in her darkened room, too forlorn to make plans for her day. I don’t know her story, but perhaps the details don’t matter. What matters is this: she jumped.
How many of us have been there....clinging to the edge, lost and alone, unable to see the light in the distance? It happens all the time....every day. We miss the signs, we ignore the symptoms and then one day, we find ourselves with the wind in our hair looking toward the water 30 feet below, thinking that jumping is our only option. I’m speaking symbolically here, but we all have reached that point at one time or another, haven’t we? Perhaps the thought was brief and fleeting and we called ourselves back from the edge. We may have had someone close by who understood, who allowed us to share the pain. We can understand, though, how the world becomes too much, how our hearts can’t bear to ache one moment longer, how the thought of dying provides comfort....relief from the pain. There’s a name for this. It’s an illness called depression. And it can be lethal if left untreated.
As a former therapist as well as a person who lives with this illness, my heart goes out to the jumper. We live in a society that is afraid of this illness. Fear breeds misunderstanding and misunderstanding can be deadly. The person living with depression is afraid she’s losing her mind as she slips deeper into the black hole. Her usual ways of coping aren’t cutting it any longer. Well-meaning friends try to reason with her, but her brain isn’t functioning well (due to the illness). I have been there. Thankfully, I have a husband standing by who knows all about this illness and is ready to act if/when I am unable to take care of myself.
Are you surprised, dear reader, to know that I suffer from this illness? Of course you are....because it is well-treated and under control, thankfully. There were many, many years when my illness went untreated as I bought into the common mentality that I should be able to “get over it” on my own, that tomorrow would be a brighter day, and so on. Now I know better, and I regret those dark, lost years when I resisted treatment as something for the weak. These days, I understand that depression is an illness of brain chemistry. We all know people with Diabetes. These folks have messed up systems, through no fault of their own, that don’t produce insulin normally. I don’t know about you, but I would never suggest to a diabetic that he “get over it” or that his illness was all in his head or that tomorrow he’d feel better. None of these sentiments ring true for untreated depression either. Sometimes....often....the brain needs help producing and regulating the required chemicals for the victim of depression to function normally. A broken leg won’t heal itself, diabetes won’t disappear through the force of will....and depression needs medical attention.
Here’s an analogy which continues with the diabetic’s dilemma. Let’s say the person with diabetes fails to measure his blood sugar levels and doesn’t take the necessary insulin. At some point, he becomes unable to take care of himself. He may go into a diabetic coma. He may die. The same is true of depression. Left untreated, a person suffering with depression becomes unable to make healthy decisions, thoughts may turn to suicide....and these thoughts begin to make sense.
Saturday’s jumper didn’t die. She was injured and she will recover. Her jump from the Casco Bay Bridge is now part of her history, part of the story she will live with....the story of her battle with an illness that nearly won. I hope that she is in good hands now and that she will receive a proper diagnosis and treatment. I hope that she has good people around her who aren't afraid, who understand and will keep her safe. Mostly, I wish that our society understood depression for the illness that it is. If you have a friend or family member who is showing signs and symptoms, won’t you please reach out to them? Tell them what you are seeing, help them to get help. Your mother, your sister, your husband, your child....their life may depend on it.
