In my last article, I shared my lifelong battle with depression and suicide. Despite my personal history, it’s not a platform that I embrace or choose to speak from.  The reality of clinical depression is complex and deeply personal.  There is no one-size-fits-all experience here; it manifests differently for everyone.  For some, the struggle is visibly apparent.  Others mask behind a camouflage of normalcy.  In my experience, masking can be both a blessing and a burden.  On one hand, it allows me to navigate social situations without the burden of judgment or unwanted attention. However, it also exposes me to the unguarded opinions of others more often than I'd care to admit:

"He killed himself???  You are kidding me.  I will never understand how someone can be THAT selfish.  How could you do that to the people you claim to love?"

I do not judge them. People voice their opinions out of their limited experience, and sometimes that experience is riddled with the pain of someone else’s choices.  However, if we are ever to realize meaningful change and build a society that prioritizes mental health with the same importance and respect as physical health, we must be brave enough to engage in honest, challenging discussions about the realities of living with and managing clinical depression.  

The unfortunate truth is that many still see depression as a CHOICE, rather than the DISEASE that it truly is.  Selfish???  I challenge you to consider the oversimplification of that statement.  How can a disease that systematically strips away one's ability to find joy, to feel loved, or to see a future be reduced to a mere act of selfishness?

Consider this: If someone lost their life to cancer, would we call them selfish?  Do we say that they just didn’t try hard enough?  Do we call them a coward?  Of course not. We understand that they fought like hell against a relentless adversary.  Depression deserves the same recognition. And here’s why.

It is a merciless disease that can overpower even the strongest among us.

Branding someone who loses their fight to depression as selfish ignores the debilitating nature of their medical condition and dismisses the gravity of their suffering.  It implies a choice where there is none.  It ignores the reality that for some, the pain becomes so unbearable, and their vision of the world becomes so distorted that they truly believe everyone would be better off without them.  Imagine a darkness so profound that it blinds you to the love and support around you.  Does that sound like something that stems from selfishness? 

"All of a sudden he was depressed?  I’ve known him for 20 years!  What did he have to be depressed about?  He had everything: money, a beautiful family, a great job, an incredible house…."

This is literally stigma in action.  When did we start believing that you have to "earn the right" to feel depressed?  This isn’t just an oversimplification; it’s an outright dismissal of their pain and this mindset prevents people from seeking the support they need and deserve. Again, let’s draw the parallel to cancer: "All of a sudden he had cancer? I’ve known him for 20 years! What did he have to get cancer about? He had everything: money, a beautiful family, a great job, an incredible house…."  Absurd, right?  Because we, as a society, understand that cancer is a medical condition that can strike anyone, regardless of their life circumstances.

Depression is a thief that does not discriminate. It steals happiness, hope, and often, the will to live. It doesn't matter how much someone has; depression can make everything feel like nothing.  Everyone’s mental health journey is valid. Everyone deserves support, no matter their background or perceived privilege.

Once more, let’s draw another parallel to cancer. Treating depression as the disease that it is should also follow through all the way to those who have lost loved ones to suicide.

“Didn’t you see the signs?  I mean…if he was THAT far gone, there must have been signs?  Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

People who have lost a loved one to suicide often hesitate to share their stories because they know that their grief may be met with questions like these.  This kind of response—whether intentional or not— is not just insensitive—it’s cruel.   Those who’ve experienced such a loss are already grappling with overwhelming sorrow.  When we ask, “didn’t you see the signs?”, we’re not just questioning the actions of those left behind; we’re implying that their loved ones failed in some fundamental way.  That they should have done more or paid closer attention. This adds an unbearable weight to their grief.

It’s human nature to search for a reason, to pinpoint the “why”, but the truth is that there’s rarely a single reason why someone takes their own life.  Expecting easy answers, or any answer at all, is not only unfair, it’s unrealistic.  Sometimes, despite our best efforts, the signs just weren’t there to see. Often, those who are struggling the most become experts at hiding their pain, wearing a mask of normalcy that can deceive even the most attentive loved ones. This is not because they don’t want help, but because the very nature of their illness convinces them that help is undeserved, unavailable or pointless.

Those who have lost someone to suicide don’t need our questions—they need our understanding. Let’s start by acknowledging that there are no simple answers, only complex realities, and that in the face of such profound loss, the best thing we can offer is our presence, our support, and our willingness to listen.  Instead of asking, “Why didn’t you do anything about it?” we should be asking, “How can we support you now?” 

Our words have power, and when used carelessly, they can deepen wounds that are already profoundly painful.  When we engage in conversations like these, we don't just overlook the suffering—we actively contribute to it.  We reinforce the shame that keeps people from reaching out, from admitting they're struggling, from seeking the treatment that could save their lives. 

It’s time we stop using dismissive language and start recognizing suicide for what it truly is: a devastating consequence of untreated or inadequately treated mental illness.  This isn't just a matter of semantics—it's a crucial step toward effective support. Only by doing this can we truly honor the memories of those who have lost their battle with depression acknowledging the depth of their struggle rather than reducing their lives to a single, heartbreaking act. Because no one should only be remembered for how their story ended, but for the courage they showed in facing each day amid unimaginable adversity.

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Do you love a child who is struggling through feelings of loss, sadness or depression?  Children's Harbor, Inc offers FREE in-home counseling for families.  You do not have to go through this alone.  Call (954) 252-3072 or visit www.childrensharbor.org for help.  

If you or a loved one are thinking about suicide, dial 988 on your phone to reach the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Someone is available to help you 24/7