In the last two months, two people I knew took their own lives. Before those two tragedies, I’ve had other friends who committed suicide. If you’re a veteran like me, odds are you’ve been affected by it. When I was a police officer, I responded to multiple scenes after-the-fact and had to help respond to the emotional roller coasters as family members and friends arrived or were informed of their loved one’s death (as gently as possible). Sometimes chaos ensues, sometimes just a slow somber acceptance of the cold hard reality of an untimely passing.
The empathetic part of me tries to put myself in the deceased’s situation and I try to make logical sense of the terminal actions: Why would they do that? What were they feeling? What were they thinking? How could we/family/friends have not seen this coming.
I find myself wondering how and or why I didn’t anticipate the drastic actions by my now dead friends/acquaintances. Could I not have been a better friend and listened with more interest? Could I have given these two most recent people more of my time so they could talk about their situations? A big part of me wishes I could have been there for their lowest time so maybe I could have walked alongside them and helped them.
The two who committed suicide in the last two months are a bit different from my veteran friends in that they left young children behind. There seems to be more sting when juvenile, innocent lives are so deeply impacted. Why would someone take themselves away from their kids? It hits harder and seems somehow darker when faultless children are hurt by their parents’ choices.
The winters here in the Midwest can be a dark time. It’s not always easy to realize the impact the darker days can have while you are living through it. My brother (who moved out West decades ago) takes every chance he gets to point out how gray the skies are near Cincinnati during the winter months. I can see how something like seasonal depression can set in. The drab landscape, the constant gray skies, the limited daylight hours, not to mention the cold and damp weeks of late winter.
Seasonal depression clinically known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (or SAD) according to JohnHopkinsMedicine.org is “a type of depression that happens during certain seasons of the year, most often in fall and winter. There is no clear cause of SAD, but less sunlight is thought to be linked to a chemical change in the brain, leading to symptoms of depression.”
While feelings of loneliness can increase during the dark dreary months of winter, the highest rate of suicide occurs during the spring. According to the CDC, April is the month with the highest number of suicides in the U.S. Studies link the high amount of seasonal inflammation to depression. There is documentation that proves people suffering from inflammation (which can be exacerbated by high pollen count) are 42% more likely to suffer depression. Couple that inflammation with many of their peer SAD sufferers “awakening” from their seasonal depression and you get those who are still depressed feeling even more isolated.
My mind immediately compares the almost-antonyms: depress (low) & inflame (augment). There is some irony in that one suffering from inflammation can be depressed. I think that uniquely parallels the act of suicide: an act that can be perceived as a type of freedom, when in fact it is a termination.
According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI): “46% of people who die by suicide had a diagnosed mental health condition – but research suggests that 90% may have experienced symptoms of a mental health condition.” There is a strong link between depression and suicide. While women on-average suffer from depression more than men, according to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), men die by suicide 3.9 times more than women.
AFSP reports that in the year 2021, 48,183 deaths in the U.S. were by suicide. According to the Suicide Prevention Resource Center: “Among adults ages 26-55, suicide is one of the leading causes of death.”
My journey continues as I gradually accept the loss of people close to me. I want to use those losses as a reminder that, for us the living, we can still find hope. As selfish as it may be for me to use the tragic loss of lives as a reminder, it also may help others. I should remind myself that I need to be more engaged with those around me so we can all strive together. Stronger together.
Have you been putting off texting an estranged friend? Do you not reach out to someone for fear of being taken the wrong way? Is it wrong to express concern for a loved one or someone that is near to you? I want to encourage everyone reading this: Now is the time to act. Now is the time to express your gratitude for those people in your life that mean something to you. Do your friends and family know how important they are to you?
If anyone you know is experiencing even the slightest symptoms of depression, please reach out. January typically is a season of renewed resolutions. A time when we tend to identify areas of our lives that need improvement. I encourage all of us to find partners or accomplices to aid us in our resolutions. From time to time, I feel the darkness creep in and start to feel depressed.
It is a natural part of everyone’s life to go through times when they feel “low”. Family and friends aid me in recognizing my value and reminding me that I’m not alone. I have value. We ALL have value.
Also, please remember that anyone can anonymously text or dial “988” at any time. This phone number is not “911,” which is a public record emergency dispatch of police and EMS. 988 is the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline where anyone can make inquiries or just discuss your feelings or the feelings of others without the required police/EMS dispatch that 911 carries. You do have options.
We do have options and we can face the inflamed depression together.
United We Stand.
Jamie Ruehl is an occasional columnist for the NKyTribune. He is an Army veteran, has been a law enforcement officer and is now a staff insurance adjuster with a large carrier headquartered in Cincinnati. He and his wife live with their three children in Edgewood.