First, a Tribute
It’s been a year now.
Last summer a woman I met years ago when she was a new teacher full of ideas, ended her own life. She shot herself after a three hour stand-off with police. I mention the circumstances because it’s important for people to know this woman withstood many a hideous battle all by herself, including her last strugge. A couple of years ago, she won her battles less often. As she won less, she fought harder and harder, and with each loss she was more alone. Doctors tried, but nothing worked and after a while of feeling helpless, professionals sometimes blamed her for her lack of success. I don’t blame them and neither did she. She knew she was tough to be around.
Even on her last morning, she wanted to find some other way.
She was teacher of the year not that long ago. She had lots of friends, a church family, and buddies who enjoyed hiking and kayaking and campfires with her. Emotional disorders sometimes come on fast…a manic episode…then the plummet to depression…the boat never quite in sync with the tide again.
What about medication, you ask? What about therapy? Why didn’t she try to get better?
She did. Just like everyone I’ve even seen with depression she tried very, very hard for days and weeks and then years. Does anyone really think that a depressed person would say “No!” if offered a way out?
A person was trying to tell me about her depression once. After the hour, we stepped outside. The conference was being held in a beautiful city surrounded by mountains. I breathed in the crisp air at dusk and said, “What a great city, what a gorgeous sunset.”
She said, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t see a gorgeous sunset…ever.”
