Joe_Cool, I tried things your way for about a decade. I did not believe in whining or psychiatry, and I tackled my problems on my own. Then I wound up flat on my back in a mental hospital close to catatonia from clinical depression. I didn’t attempt suicide that time, but my mind basically broke under too much pressure. As it happened, a miracle, a personal experience of the divine Presence of God ended that catatonia.
One of the things that I has been making me wonder if I deserve to live is the fact that I am dependent on government benefits right now in the form of an unemployment check. Seven months ago, I was a programmer; now, by all accounts there are hundreds of applicants for every programming job. I’ve adjusted my expectations down a notch to administrative assistant work, and at least those jobs are there, but I still feared not being able to support myself.
I understand and respect your attitude. To some extent I used to hold it. Then it nearly killed me.
A couple of friends of mine have diabetes. They keep track of their blood sugar levels, take insulin when needed, and, in general, keep their diseases in check, and no one considers them weak for that. I, too, have a disease. In my case, it’s not severe enough to require medication, and I’m starting to think I might be cured of it permanently, but nevertheless, it is a disease. It’s a fact of my life, just as diabetes is a fact of my friends’ lives. By seeking treatment, I see myself as being responsible. By discovering and dealing with the underlying causes, I see myself as taking responsible for my future health in much the same way someone who has heart disease might take responsibility for his health by eating more healthy food or lowering his cholesterol, to switch metaphors.
While I do not condone suicide, I do understand all too well what goes through at least one person’s mind when she’s at that point, and what can lead a person to that point. That’s why I work to try to keep people from getting to that point. I have to accept the fact that I cannot prevent someone from committing suicide, much as that grates on me, but I can at least try to help them. As the oath I swore to God at my confirmation and at the rededication I underwent a year after going into the hospital goes, “I will, with God’s help.” (It was sworn on my behalf when I was baptized as an infant.)
Respectfully,
CJ