Don't Worry, Be Happy

When I began this blog last week, I had attentions of writing only funny stuff and I still will do that.  For some reason I feel the need to talk about something that is not funny, suicide. All that's been on the news the last couple days is the suicide of Mindy McCready, a one time country music star who took the wrong path to addiction.  Apparently she was handed the troubles of Job and she took the easy way out.  I was just watching Dr. Drew, her therapist, talk about suicide.  One sentence stayed with me, "If you have someone in your family that has committed suicide more than likely another family member will also commit suicide."  I know this to be true first hand.  Before Mike and I were married his uncle, Luther Childress, went to the home of his brother Jesse.  He sat down and talked to Jesse's wife awhile. He asked her to go get him a cup of coffee.  While she was in the kitchen, she heard a gunshot.  She ran to see what was wrong and discovered Luther dead in the chair from a gunshot wound to the head.  Seems Jesse always kept a pistol in the end table by the chair, Luther knew this and used that gun to kill himself.  There were no warning signs, at least not that anyone noticed.

Mike and I hadn't been married very long when we got the word that his uncle was found dead in his mobile home.  He too had shot himself in the head.  He was divorced from his wife and the family knew he wasn't taking it well.  He shot himself on Tuesday, but wasn't found until Saturday when a nephew went to check on him.

In 1977, I was working at my job in London.  We had moved back to Rockcastle Co. from Louisville and Mike didn't have a job yet so we were living with my mother.  My desk was beside the door to the outside, so I saw every car that pulled up.  One night in October, I saw my mom and grandma pull up.  They had come to tell me that Mike's Dad, Cecil Childress(Pete) ,had been found dead.  He had shot himself in the chest.
My father and mother-in-law had a rough marriage.  They had separated several times, but my mother-in-law couldn't provide for the nine children she had without Pete so she had to endure a lot for her children.  Pete decided to open a grocery store so he bought a building on highway 25 south between Mt. Vernon and Livingston. It was in that store that he killed himself.  A customer wondered why the store wasn't open since his truck was there.  He walked to the side of the store, looked in the window and saw Pete lying on the bed.  My brother-in-law, had to identify him.  Like the others, he showed no signs that suicide was on his mind.  We saw no depression or sadness.  By now, we were all stunned by the fact that 3 brothers had committed suicide within 10 years.  Pete's death was very hard on the family.  Losing a father by suicide was very hard on Mike.  None of us could understand why. After all that the Mike and his family went through, we never thought one of them would do the same.

In 1988, I was working as a hairdresser in Mt. Vernon.  I had my own shop with two stylist and myself working.  I went to work one day just like always, happy that my business growing, my boys were healthy and Mike had a good job.  Somewhere during that day, my life changed.  I began to feel sad and I had no reason to be. I was short tempered and hoped I didn't have customer because all I wanted to do was go home to bed.  That sad feeling was with me all the time.  I had saw my father suffer with depression.  I was just about six when I would make the trip to St. Joseph in Lexington with mama and daddy for his Shock Therapy treatments.  I didn't understand why my daddy didn't act the same after these trips, but mama assured me it would make daddy feel better.  So after two weeks of the sadness I went to Dr. Jack Lewis, the same Dr. that treated my dad.  He sent me to a psychiatrist in Lexington right away.  I remember him saying to me, "I saw your dad go through this and I don't want to see you go through it too."  I spent 21 days at St. Joe.  I was diagnosed with clinical depression and started on a round of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds.  I took Prozac when it was brand new.  It did help some, but not enough. I felt so guilty about not being there for my boys.  Mom and Mike would attend school functions etc, since I wasn't able to go anywhere.  I would end up being hospitalized two more times.  I had to sell the beauty shop and try to get myself together.  Times were tough and I didn't know exactly what to do next. I took a job at Rockcastle Co. High School in 1990.  I was able to work there for fifteen years before I became unable, both mentally and physically to work.  I retired on disability in 2005.  I have good times and dark times.  Recently I was told I had Rapid Recycling, which is a form of Bi-Polar.  Just the name rapid recycling explains it.  I go from zero to sixty in five seconds.

November 13, 2008 found me doing pretty good.  I have Fibromyalgia also,but that November neither Fibro or depression were bothering me.  We had our first grandchild, Jack, that past May and I helped babysit him and Neil and Ashley had just gotten married in August.   I was in the grocery store when my cell phone rang.  One of  sister-in-laws had called to tell me she had heard someone in Mt. Vernon tell her that Mike's brother, had died.  We thought surely that wasn't true.  No one had called us.  I then called my sister-in-law, who lives in Louisville where my brother-in-law and his wife lived.  When she answered the phone I knew right away it was true.  I stood in the middle of the grocery hearing how my happy go-lucky brother -in-law had went into the garage while his wife was at work and shot himself.  I don't remember much about that afternoon.  I know I didn't buy anything and I remember thinking that I had to call Mike because if the word was out on the streets he would hear it like that.  I called Mike just to tell him to come home, but he knew something was wrong and assisted that I tell him.  When I did, there was silence for what seemed like an hour.  Once again we had lost someone too quick. Someone who made the decision to leave this world.
I am left to worry about my sons.  They have inherited some bad genes on both sides.  I have told Mike and the boys several times that I worry about how much suicide and depression in our families and make them promise to get help if they start feeling sad or anxious.  They always laugh and tell me I'm crazy. 

Everyone goes through the blues every now and then, but depression is the blues triple time.  You see no future, you have unreasonable thoughts, you abuse prescription meds just to take yourself away for an hour or two, and your family and friends don't understand.  People have said to me, "Just make yourself be happy.' or "What do you have to be depressed about?"  My favorite one is, "Honey, just take it to the Lord, you must not have enough faith."  This illness is not something I chose and I'm doing all I can to fight it.  I just hope and pray that it never gets so far ahead of me that I can't see the light through the darkness and plan a permanent solution to a temporary problem.  I want to leave you with a line from a song by John Mellencamp, "Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone."

 www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org