Sunday, April 14, 2019

Suicide Part Two: Suicide Rates for Certain Demographics


A few months ago, I started a series of blogs on suicide. My first revolved around basic information about what suicide is and those that are more prone to it. I included my own personal story of an attempt. Today, I am looking into specific groups, their risks, and what that means for society as a whole. It’s not an easy topic to talk about, but that’s why I feel we NEED to talk about it. Suicide and attempted suicide are huge problems in our nation, and it’s a problem that only keeps growing.

Suicide affects every demographic. From childhood to the elderly, wealthy and the poverty stricken, every race and nationality, and people across the spectrum of sexuality. In any way you slice humanity, there are pockets of those that suffer so greatly they consider taking their own lives. Yet, even though every demographic is affected, certain groups of people are more at risk than others.  

One such group is the LGBT community. It is a group that is consistently fighting for rights and acceptance, and their struggles often come with dire results. The link between suicide and this community is sobering. As I said in the last installment about this subject, suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death of people from 10-24. Of those young people, the Trevor project states that LGBT youth are almost 3 times more likely to contemplate suicide than their heterosexual peers, and FIVE times more likely to have attempted suicide. The stats grow even more heartbreaking the more you look at them. On top of this already high risk, if these youths are rejected from their families, they are 8.4 times more likely to attempt suicide. Forty percent of transgender adults have had at least one suicide attempt, with 92% of these attempts before the age of 25.

The statistics are shocking. They clearly indicate that the LGBT community suffers greatly. If you are straight, perhaps you think this doesn’t affect you, but you’re wrong. It does. It affects all of us. Those at risk could be your mother, your father, your son, your daughter, sister, brother, best friend. We all know someone that is gay or bi, or even trans, and as close as we may be to that person, deep down, we will not truly know the struggles they go through. The fact is, that while our society is slowly becoming more accepting, LGBT people still receive hatred, misunderstanding, and judgement from others. This can range from teasing and name calling, to actual violence.  Added to that, there can be depression, anxiety, and self-harm. On top of outside forces, there may be inner voices that affect someone. Take for instance, X. X is from a loving family, with a strong supportive family base. X is transgender, and struggles with depression and self harm. X has attempted suicide, and dabbles in substances to help cope with the pain. X’s arms are riddled with cuts and scars from self-harm, an outlet for anguish of the mind caused by being different from others. It’s a heavy, heavy thing for a twenty year old.

X could be someone you know. What X deals with is not every trans person’s journey, but it is a significant example of how close to home these struggles can be. Every person knows someone in this community, someone that struggles with not being accepted, or even hurt by others for something that they cannot help.  LGBT people have more factors against them than the general population that put them at more risk for a suicide attempt. Homelessness, lack of family/community support, high stress, access to dangerous substances, lack of access to mental health help, victimization, bullying, self-harm, and cultural or religious beliefs that suggest suicide as a solution are all factors that raise a person’s risk of suicide (Trevor Project). Sobering how long that list is, isn’t it?  The Trevor Project is a wonderful resource for the LGBT community and their allies, that provides tons of information and ways to help. On top of all the risk factors, they also list protective factors, or things that can lessen one’s suicide risk. Some of them are: easy access to culturally competent, effective care, support from family, schools, peers, and medical/mental health professionals, coping and conflict resolution skills, restricted access to lethal means of suicide, academic, artistic or athletic achievements, positive role models, and cultural/religious officials that discourage suicide.

X is a real person. X’s journey is not over, and I am keeping all details about their identity confidential. It is not my place or my intention to share more than was shared with me. I wish X the best, and hope that X finds their way and thrives.

Another group of people that has a significant risk of suicide is military service members and veterans. A recent estimate says that 22 veterans die DAILY due to suicide (SPRC). While this estimate may differ across gender, race, and so on, it’s still a staggering number of people. Danny O’Neel, in his opinion piece for USA Today, states that from 2001 to 2014, suicide rates among Veterans has increased 32%. His information stems from an article in the Military Times, that details the information more thoroughly. That article states that in 2014, more than 7,400 veterans ended their own lives, accounting for 18% of all suicides in America. The kicker? Veterans make up only 9% of the overall population (Military Times).  

So, what makes veterans so at risk? Part of it is the nature of the job. Our military sees things that are life altering. Their lives are in constant peril while they are deployed or in service, and they can experience PTSD from what they see and do. Civilians can’t understand the bonds formed during war, or the horrors seen. While away, the men and women fighting for our country are with people doing the same. There’s an understanding, and a family feeling. Once home, however, that can change. That same support isn’t there. Danny O’Neel indicates that part of the problem is that the VA is understaffed. Veterans are shuffled through the system too fast, or even turned away due to lack of staff or resources. O’Neel also sees a problem with what happens when military members come home. There’s extensive training for what happens while in service, but virtually no resources for what happens when they come home. They are brought home and expected to deal alone with the changes in themselves that have occurred. Granted, the VA has hired 5300 more mental health providers, but is that enough? I don’t’ think so. As a nation, we pour a ton of money into wars, but do very, very little to help our warriors once they return home.

What will help? O’Neel says that a feeling of community, and being with others that have had the same experiences will help. He has founded The Independence Fund, which works in connection with the VA to help veterans by providing support. They provide mental health training retreats for military families. There is also a VA crisis hotline, that was created to help support those that are in need. Still, more qualified mental health officials are needed, especially those that are well versed in the military. Support from families and communities, mental health resources, and understanding are also key in lowering suicide rates among Veterans.

I also looked at suicide rates for different races and occupations, but there is fairly limited research on those topics. Suicide for the most part is still seen as a relatively “white” problem, but I don’t think that’s true. I think that there are cultural and societal factors that make reporting of depression/anxiety, and suicide attempts less likely, and as a result, the statistics are skewed. I have hope that these problems are probed into, and more reliable research will come to light.

Suicide in specific groups isn’t just a problem for that group. It’s a problem for us all. Mental health programs are imperative for the health of the overall nation, not just those at risk. We never know what is going on in other people’s lives, and while you may think that someone you know is okay, they may very well be struggling with something that you don’t know about. Suicide is costly, in many, many ways. It affects relationships, health, and even the overall cost of healthcare in the nation. By supporting our fellow man, we can help, in so many ways. Listening helps. Being kind helps. They are such small things, but you never know when you may be changing the tide of someone’s life.

As always, if you or anyone else you know is suffering from depression, or if you are thinking of suicide, PLEASE reach out for help! PLEASE CALL 1–800–273–TALK (8255). It’s the suicide hotline, and they are always there to help! If you are LGBT, or an ally, and need help, or would like to help, www.thetrevorproject.org has a ton or great resources!

Below are the resources I used for this blog. Feel free to check them out, if you are interested in learning more. Next time, I’ll be looking into the effects of suicide on those left behind.






Friday, March 29, 2019

Cigar Smoke and Butterflies



Hello, friends. I realize it’s been quite a while since you heard from me. Honestly, it’s been a longer while than I originally planned for, but that’s life, right? I realized somewhere along the way that I simply needed time to heal. Grief, depression, and anxiety are all tricky on their own, but combining them can weaken even the strongest of people. While I went on medication shortly after the deaths of my grandfather and cousin, it honestly took about two months for it to really kick in completely. Then came the holidays, with it’s own particular brand of firsts and sadness. Then Scoot’s birthday. There were a number of hurdles I had to get through to get to a better place. Yet, here I am. Back, and ready to write again.

It’s been a long, hard road since September. I think when we lose someone, it completely alters you for the rest of your life. That’s why it’s called loss, right? During grief, and its aftermath, you start to put the pieces of yourself into new arrangements. You won’t ever be the same, or even whole in the same way, but you have to go on. To live. If you’re like me, you also want reassurance that those you love are in a better place. You want a sign. In my experience, I think those that have gone on before can absolutely send you these signs. A few months after my grandmother died, I had a dream about her. She was healthy, whole, and beautiful in a way that I remembered from when I was younger. I went up, hugged her, and told her how much I loved her and missed her. In response, she pulled back, gave me her signature “duh” look, and said sassily, “I know.” It was so real. It was vivid. And to me, it was my grandmother assuring me that she knows I love her, and that she’s with me always. After that dream, I knew without question that she was okay.



I’ve had other moments like that with her. She likes to check in now and then, and it gives me comfort. It’s one of the reasons I craved signs from Brittany and my grandfather. I needed to know that they too were happy and somewhere better. With Brittany especially, it seemed I needed to know she was beyond all the troubles that bogged us down here on Earth. Without getting into too much detail, there’s been a lot of upheaval, greed, and turmoil surrounding the deaths.  Our girl is never one to disappoint, though. After her funeral, with her grave still festooned with all her flowers, my mother and cousin went to visit her. From what they tell me, a butterfly flew from the flowers, hovered near my mom’s window, flew across the windshield to my cousin’s and then went back to the flowers. From that moment on, we knew that she was visiting us as a butterfly.

The night before Scoot’s birthday party, we had another moment from her. I picked up a white frosted cake from a local bakery, and my mom and I sprayed it with purple coloring. We covered it, did some other things and then we went to Brit’s grave with a new floral arrangement for her (with a big, blue butterfly on it). My mom, cousin, and I spoke to Britt, left the flowers, and came back to my mother’s to show my cousin the cake. Lo and behold, what was on the frosting but a small, blue butterfly shape. I still get tingles thinking about it.

Scoot's cake, with butterfly. How amazing!

Scoot has also told me about butterflies that she has seen. ON the day of her school fundraiser, a butterfly hovered near her classroom window for a moment, before flying away. This week, while she was home sick, a little yellow butterfly fluttered around the house for a while as well. Now, I realize it’s spring. Butterflies are everywhere this time of year. However, there are moments that you just feel that the one you love is close by. What I’ve described above have been some of those moments.

My grandfather had been more elusive. Maybe he’s just been too happy to be back with my grandmother to check in until fairly recently. However, he too has paid visits to me. One night, during the super blood wolf too many words to name moon and eclipse, I was out with my cousin (same cousin as above) on a garden bench, freezing my tushy off watching the eclipse. Out of nowhere, I smelled pipe smoke. It’s a distinct smell, one I have vague memories of. My cousin smelled it as well. Now, we were outside, so I wrote it off to that. Until I smelled it inside my house one day as I woke from a nap. Pipe smoke. I’ve smelled it a few other times, just small, distinct whiffs. The last time was two weeks ago as we worked on cleaning out my grandparent’s house. I was hauling furniture with my mom when I smelled it, clear as day. She was right next to me, and didn’t smell it at all.

I should mention one of the last things I remember asking my grandfather for was a pipe for Scoot’s Little Mermaid birthday party last year. I knew he still had some old ones from when he used to smoke pipes and cigars. He found me one, and we used it as a snarflap for my girl’s party. That same pipe now sits on my bookshelf. Perhaps that’s why I smell pipe smoke. It’s his way of wrapping me up in his love.

Recently, I dreamed of him and Britt. I was at a class, and when I came out I couldn’t’ find my husband. I looked everywhere for him, but he was gone. My grandfather found me, and he helped me find my husband. We all three sat together inside, and after a while, he said, “there’s my baby.” I looked up, saw Brittany. And oh, my heart clenched. I missed them SO much. I said as much to him, and then I woke up.

I have no doubt that they are all together now. None at all. I know they are okay, and that they will check on me as I need them. Maybe I am just looking for signs. Maybe those signs are heaven sent. If they aren’t, I don’t want to know. I think they are. Sometimes, you just know things without proof, without reason. Perhaps you just have to be open to those signs. I know I am.