Things NOT To Say To A Depressed/Suicidal Person (Trigger Warning)

If you are someone that has never experienced depression or suicidal thoughts, it may be a very foreign concept- something way beyond your comprehension that someone out there is thinking of ending their own life. I understand why you think this way- it is the one basic instinct each of us have instilled in us by default. The survival instinct. Each of our bodies, at this very moment, is doing everything it can to make sure we’re alive and breathing. 

I grew up with a bipolar father who used to get depressed often. I have seen him go from super happy to extremely sad in a matter of hours. As a child of merely 8 years, I never understood what in the world could be so terrible as to upset my father so much.

But, as I grew up, it became clearer to me. So clear, in fact, that I found myself slowly slipping into depression myself. It was like being caught in quicksand. 

And not until recently did I understand the plight of people who tried to take their lives or successfully did so. 

I am proud to say that I have dug my way out of that ditch, but it was not easy. 

And now, as I am recovering, I am quite open about my past problems. I find it is healthier to let people know rather than piling it all up.

You’d be surprised how many people have called me ‘selfish’ and ‘stupid’ for my attempts. 

Let me tell you this: if you have a friend or close one who is suicidal, and you want to help them get better, making them feel guilty about it is not the right approach. 

In fact, it is just about the worst thing you could say to them.

Never say, ‘you are selfish and stupid’. Never say, ‘think about your family, you’ll cause them pain’. Never say, ‘don’t be a coward’. 

No.

I am not stupid. I have weighed out my options. I have gone through this. Me. Not you. You do not get to decide if I’ve had enough or not- I do. This is my decision, my life. 

This is not a sudden, momentary decision that I have taken. This is not something that cropped up into my thoughts while I was dreaming last night. NO. 

I feel helpless. My behavior isn’t reasonable, but neither is depression. Even today, I don’t think I can come anywhere close to explaining how miserable I felt when I was depressed. 

The depression, paired with the anxiety, made me feel useless, helpless. My anxiety kept telling me I was worthless and my depression made me believe there was nothing I could do about it. Yes, it was all in my head. But every time someone told me I was being selfish or stupid or not thinking about my family, it made my feelings even stronger. I felt guilty, guilty about being self centered and cowardly- not the traits of a good human being. I was convinced I was a terribly worthless, good-for-nothing person who was too selfish and too much of a coward to live in this world surrounded by such beautiful things and amazing people.

And that is the problem with depression- it makes you believe that everything in this world is a flawless masterpiece and you’re a crooked mess of mishaps and inconveniences. 

I thought it would be easier to run away from my problems rather than facing them. I was a coward, yes. But I do not need to hear that.

I needed someone to tell me that it will all be fine. That everything would settle down while I could learn to be myself again. That I was worth the so-called inconveniences I caused, that I was a good enough person to be here. 

And that is what every depressed and suicidal person needs to hear. We do not need someone to tell us we’re stupid or that our families will suffer- these are things we already know. These are the things eating us up, driving us to the edge of the balcony and towards the sharp razors.

No, we need you to tell us what our depression has forced us to forget. 

We need someone to tell us that we, like everybody else, are human after all and make mistakes, no matter how often. 

We need someone to tell us that it’s okay to love ourselves, no matter how flawed.