Talking with Christa Scalies

Christa Scalies recently sent me a box of kazoos. After losing two good friends to suicide, she has embraced her project, Giggle On, which uses humor and yoga to loosen people up for talk about stress, mental health and suicide prevention. Aside from being a survivor of suicide loss, she spent time being suicidal herself as a young woman.

“When nothing else works, when life gets nasty bad, laughter is often all we’ve got to help us feel like we’re in control of an otherwise out-of-control situation,” she says during a lively conversation spiced with her Italian, Philly background. “What else are you gonna do?”

Here, she talks about everything from consulting a medium and a shaman, to Darth Vader breath and “laughter selfies,” to the need for suicide prevention people to break away from the echo chamber and engage the world at large.

Who are you? Please introduce yourself.

Oh, is it going to be like that, is it? (Laughs.) Well, my name is Christa, I was raised in the Philadelphia area, I’m one of five kids in a big Italian family. I’m pretty comfortable telling my story, but I’m concerned about getting into specifics or naming names within my own family. I want to be authentic while not making people uncomfortable. … I can safely say there’s a family history of mood disorders. … I currently live in Wilmington, Delaware. I’ve been here 14 years and am trying to escape. I tell people Delaware is like the mafia: “I keep trying to get out, but they pull me back in.” (Laughs.)

I’ve always been a serious person, so the fact that I have a website dedicated to laughter makes some people laugh. Without the laughter, my serious nature would take over completely, so I’m grateful for my ability to giggle. Ever since I was a little kid, I had imaginary friends, I read a lot, I was very “precocious,” as the adults would often say in my presence. Our family moved from the northern Philadelphia suburbs to the western Philadelphia suburbs when I was about 7 years old, and my life was turned upside down. In retrospect, the move, the change and the manifestations of issues at home started me on the road to being depressed as a young person, very young, but I didn’t realize it at the time.

I own another business that’s unrelated, receivables, and I used to be a chef in Philadelphia, so I can collect debt from people and make you an omelet. I found some old diaries yesterday, very interesting for me. I’ve blogged about my feelings and past, but I haven’t actually seen these diaries in years, and it was a little upsetting to read some of it. I spent a solid 20 years in and out of depression and contemplating ending my life. When I tell people that, they say to me, “I don’t understand how someone would want to take their life,” and I say I know what it feels like to not want to be on the planet, to melt away into nothingness. While looking at old journals last night, I was transported back in time, to over 10 years ago. It was hard seeing what I wrote. My level of pain was pretty off the charts. My entry about wanting to disappear brought up memories for sure. One entry from 12 or 13 years ago said something to the effect of wanting to hurt myself, just wanting to not be here anymore. This was a state of mind that was “normal” for me for a long time, and that’s very sad.

I often contemplated ways of how I could end it, and I abused drugs and alcohol as a way to escape reality. And I used to be a cutter. One thing I remember doing more than once was letting go of the steering wheel of my car while driving. I think the thing that stopped me from doing it and brought me back to my senses was the thought, “Don’t take anyone else out with you. Killing yourself is one thing, but don’t take another life, that’s REALLY a no-no.”

It was not until my friend Jim Thompson’s suicide in 2005 that I had a wake-up call. Three days prior to his suicide, I was looking at a building here: “If I jump, will I die on the way down? Do I die right away when I hit the ground? How does all this work?” I remember calling my psychiatrist at the time, and I said, “Doc, I’m thinking this is not the right train of thought.” I was on medication at the time, one or two anti-depressants, but I can’t even remember what they were now and stopped taking all medication that same year. Three days later, my friend died, shot himself in the head in the foyer of his Wilmington home. At that time, immediately after his suicide, my suicidal thinking got worse. The woulda-coulda-shoulda guilt complex took over. The guilt of his death and what I could have done to stop it paralyzed me. I remember having to call people in his black book and tell them he was dead, give away his possessions, meet his father, sister and speak at his funeral. This entire morbid process made me realize I couldn’t do this to my family. I didn’t have that insight right away, it took some time. I knew there was no way I could leave this hurt, this permanent emotional stain with my parents and brothers and sisters. Suicide is just the worst possible thing in the world. I’ve been to a lot of funerals, but losing someone to suicide is like no pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. There was the pain of depression, and the pain of losing him to suicide on top of it. It is fair to say this was the worst period in my life.

So I lose my friend to suicide and go on a personal quest to figure out why I’m on the planet, what I’m supposed to do here. I spent a lot of time in self-reflection. I talked to mediums, went back to church, did yoga, self-help this, that and everything, trying to find answers. In the process, I realized there’s no one person who can give you the answer, the only person who can truly figure out you is you. That’s scary and empowering at the same time. So I can’t say I’ve figured it all out yet, but I have figured out I am supposed to help others on this path.

Despite being a suicide prevention advocate and someone who is very happy she didn’t take her own life, I have several belief systems about suicide, and they are contradictory. A human being has a life of their own. If they want to end it, for whatever reason, it is their choice. Who am I to project my desires or perceived outcome about the trajectory of their life on them? Isn’t that my ego talking? Conversely, how many people are in their “right mind” making a decision to die by suicide? Despite the facts presented by suicide experts, none of us will ever really know what goes on inside the mind of each person who takes their life. Sure, we can figure out if they were depressed, if they were addicts, had a life-traumatizing experience based on what we see and observe, but we can never really 100 percent know what’s going on. Let me also add as a person of faith, and a cradle Catholic, I believe it is not up to us to make life-and-death decisions about our own mortality. God brought us in and he should be the one who makes the call about our exit. It is because of my faith and belief that people who take their own lives are not in their right mind, I feel very strongly we, as a society, need to preserve and protect lives, lives of the young, middle-aged and old. Each life is a gift, and despite our perceived or real fault lines, we all have something positive we can offer to ourselves and the world.

I’ve lost two friends to suicide. My one friend, Jim Thompson, I met when I came to Wilmington in the late ’90s. We became friends right away. He had struggled with depression, addiction, had a great sense of humor, and we were thick as thieves, which was wonderful. A week or two prior to his death, I was in his house, helping him clean. He had all this crap in his room. I was putting things into the bedside stand and saw a gun. “What the fuck is this?” I said. “Dude, what’s up with the gun?” He said it was for protection. He also said he woke up every day with a gun to his head wondering whether or not this would be the day he’d end it all. When he told me that at the time, I was in the same state of mind. I thought the best way to respond was, “Dude, that’s fucked up.” I know now, after my ASIST suicide prevention training, that’s not the right answer.

So, flash forward, a week or two later, I was back at his house. He had trouble with trusting women, but I knew I was a woman he trusted. I was back in his house, I go to his bedside stand and see the gun again. I had to make a decision: Do I take it? Unload it? What do I do? My previous boyfriend accidentally shot himself in the hand, so I didn’t want to be anywhere near a handgun, since I saw firsthand the damage it can do. But I knew, looking at this gun, that was it. I knew this gun would be the end of him, but I was frozen. At that moment, I think, I saw his life flash before my eyes. So I shut the door of the drawer, and three days later, he was dead. I remember speaking to an officer outside his home while waiting for the crime scene cleaners to show up. I said to the cop, “It’s all my fault,” and he said, “He would have eventually found a way if he really wanted to do it.”

I don’t care what anybody says. I’ve spoken to quote-unquote “him” via mediums. If he could have a do-over, he’d be on the earth. I tell people thinking about suicide, “Listen, are you sure?” People send me emails, and I give them the caveat that I’m not a therapist or shrink and give them resources for mental health professionals … But as a human being, formerly depressed and suicidal, I will say, “Listen, you can make that decision, but if you have anything left on your bucket list, you won’t be able to do it.” Suicide may take away your physical pain or emotional pain, but it also erases the opportunity to ever do anything fun again. I also share my experiences with people and let them know I KNOW in my heart of hearts my friend Jim Thompson regrets what he’s done. He doesn’t want me to blame myself, but I will carry that burden to the day I die. I miss him terribly, but at the same time, had he not done what he had done, I probably would be dead as well. In his death, I found the gift of my own life. I know this may sound cheesy to some, but it’s my truth.

And one more point about the afterlife. It is my belief we take our emotional baggage with us to the next plane when we go. So, if you have emotional stuff to work out, do it on Earth, because you will take it with you to the other side. At some point you will have to face yourself, your soul, and do the healing work for yourself. Our thoughts are energy, and we’ve all been taught along the way energy cannot be created or destroyed. If these two things are true, then you can bet you’re taking your drama to heaven with you. Personally, I’d rather work out my crap while on Earth so when I get to heaven I can get my wings, chill out and catch up on a lifetime of reading. (Laughs.)

Several weeks after Jim Thompson died, I reached out to a friend in Wilmington who speaks to spirits, or so a mutual friend had claimed. I thought it was crazy nonsense talk, but I was desperate. I said, “Do me a favor. I need to come over and need your help but can’t tell you any details now.” So I went to her home, and she starts doing her thing with a pendulum. Within about a minute, she started to describe my friend physically, and the hair on my arm started to stand up. My friend came through and said to me, “You are fighting yourself, Christa. Don’t do it. It’s not a jail. Let it go. You are what you are, and it is OK. Don’t be afraid, just live, enjoy it for someone who can’t, I copped out.”

Had my friend not come through the medium and told me he made a mistake, I’d be dead. Those are my experiences, I don’t care what anybody tells me or if they believe me or not. That’s what happened in October 2005, and that “session” saved my life.

Flash forward. I went on a grief retreat in Arizona six months after he died and visited a shaman lady named Annie. The trip was transformative for me.

In my experience with grief and depression, I had what yogis call a “monkey mind.” I could not seem to get out of a negative train of thought. My brain was like a hamster stuck in a wheel. Everything was a churning black mess, and I was searching for glimmers of hope.

While at the retreat, Annie said, “I have homework for you, and I’ll be back in two hours.” She took a piece of paper and drew a big circle on it and told me to write down everything I wanted in my life inside the circle. “On the outside,” she said, “I want you to write everything you don’t want, things that no longer serve you.” I looked at her like she was out of her mind, and I am sure I rolled my eyes.

So I thought, “You paid this lady! Do the homework!” So time passes, and I had no idea what to put inside the circle and struggled with the question, “What do you want?” It was like no one ever asked me that question before. Writing down what I didn’t want was a lot easier. On the outside of the circle, I started to write: self-mutilation, depression, suicidal thoughts, sadness, lethargy, confusion, self-hate, extra weight, all these negative things. After I got that out of my system, I thought, “What the hell DO you want? Identify that.” Once everything inside the circle was written down, Annie the shaman and I did this little ceremony and burned the “negative stuff” to energetically release it to the universe. It seemed very weird to me at the time, but I played along thinking to myself, “Do what you need to do to move on.”

Annie’s little circle exercise, simple yet powerful, became the basis for what I call my Big Bold Beautiful life. When I came back to Wilmington, I made a few vision boards of all the positives inside the circle. I hung them in a prominent position in my home and bombarded myself with positive messages. I started looking for pictures of myself in happier times, framing them, to remind myself I did have the capacity to have fun, be happy and enjoy life. I had been giving myself shit talk for so long, what if I turned it on its head? Did the opposite? What if I played the “fake it until you make it” game? So I used myself as an experiment. I took the original circle exercise paper, placed it in a drawer and forgot about it. A year and a half later, I pulled out the paper, and I’m not bullshitting, everything in that circle had manifested. It wasn’t magic fairy dust, I didn’t click my heels together three times and make wishes. Once I figured out what I wanted, that gave me the opportunity to create a plan to get it. You want to be healthier? You don’t need a brain surgeon to help you. Eat well, sleep, exercise. I signed up for yoga training in my late 30s. I was in class with a bunch of thin and young bendy people and thought to myself, “What the hell am I doing here?” (Laughs.) But I did it, got my certification, started to teach. So basically, the circle exercise shaman helped me reframe things. It provided me an opportunity to create a more positive life for myself. Is everything lollipops and candy canes now? No. Do I still struggle? Yes, but things are a lot better than they were 10 years ago!

So, a year and a half after Jim Thompson’s suicide, I met another guy named Jim, Jim Sims to  be exact, and he was from Austin, Texas. We met over Myspace, remember Myspace? We start chatting, long-distance dating. I went back and forth to Austin, had fun, we connected a lot. On the phone one night long distance, he said, “I’m going out with buddies to get my giggle on.” I was like, “What are you talking about? No judgement, but I’m really confused.” He was like, “No, I’m not gay. That’s what we say in Texas when you go out with friends to have fun.” I’m like, “That’s awesome.” He called me his muse, encouraged me to be creative. I started Giggle On, blogging about my feelings, therapists, medication, losing Jim Thompson to suicide and how positivity, laughter, healthy practices and helping others actually helped me.

I know my site repulsed some people, especially my family. I think they weren’t thrilled that I was sharing personal details on a website. Every once in a while you wonder if you should do it anonymously, especially when you’re talking about intimate feelings, especially related to anything with the “S” word or depression. Do you want people to know you’re depressed, on drugs, that you spent a good portion of your life in a suicidal mindset? Because people won’t knock on your door to freaking hire you. But I did it. Do I sometimes regret opening up and outing myself? Yes, I do.

I dedicated my site to Jim Thompson. Giggle On gave me the opportunity to put together resources for survivors of suicide loss. I wanted people to know they’re not alone in this path of pain and healing is something they can do. I finished yoga teacher training, took a laughter yoga certification course while running another business and blogging. It was fun, yes, but I was juggling a lot, pushed myself hard. I eventually connected with the Mental Health Association of Delaware, I’ve been a supporter of theirs for years. In 2009, I organized a big team, and with the help of dozens of people we raised a lot of money for the E-Racing the Blues campaign. I was flying high as an advocate and felt like I was truly making a positive impact.

A couple days after the walk, I got a nine-page note suicide from Jim Sims’ email account. His sister was instructed to send it out after he had done it. He went by way of carbon monoxide poisoning in his garage and left a young son. And I’m still pissed. When I met the second Jim, he was also 35 years old and died in October. So I was thinking I was a suicide magnet for guys named Jim. Who wouldn’t? And now when I talk about them, it’s often as Jim #1 and Jim #2. How tragic and absurd?

So, as far as advocacy, I told Jim # 2 everything about losing my first friend, the ramifications of suicide, what happens to the family. When I found out he did it, I was furious, Italian furious, with enough cursing to make a dockworker blush. I remember standing in the living room, looking at ceiling: “You son of a bitch. I fucking told you. What have you done? You left friends asking, ‘What the hell just happened?'” He was extremely intelligent, creative, emotional to the point where, I don’t know a lot of guys with that level of emotional capacity. He also had a problem with alcohol. So now he’s dead. So here you are, thinking you’re doing great stuff in the world, and you’re not able to help this other guy. So let’s just say it was not a good time. It kind of set me off. I can’t say it made me suicidal, but it rocked me to my core, again, and sent me back packing into a depressed mindset.

Am I interested in getting into a relationship with a guy? I’m scared that if I do, they’ll kill themselves. The truth is. I’m still pissed. I’ve kind of forgiven Jim #1, but I’m still pissed at Jim #2. His nine-page suicide note was like some Hemingway poetic something or other. It was like he was trying to state the case why dying made sense, but it really didn’t. Suicide is stupid, and it sucks every which way from Wednesday. But yeah, Jim Sims is gone too, so now the site’s dedicated to two men, the two Jims. I set my site and mission aside after Jim #2 death. I thought to myself, “I can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard. Too painful. And let’s face it, what good am I really doing anyway?”

Something, whether it’s God or whatever, keeps bringing me back to this topic. I continue to beat the drum right now, to raise awareness. It is exhausting as a one-woman show sometimes, but I think I am finally starting to make real progress. Do I wake up in the morning singing, “I want to be a poster child for suicide prevention?” No, I don’t. The stigma about mental illness doesn’t make this topic tea-time worthy, but I think in time we can change that. Look how people can easily talk about cancer now, where 20-plus years ago it was only a whisper.

I incorporate the laughter stuff, call it laughter therapy, laughter yoga or what have you, to help people blow off steam and give them the OK to talk about their feelings, hurts and dreams. Laughter opens people up, so does humor if used correctly, and it gives people the permission to share themselves. I don’t use laughter to cover up the bad, I use it to help people, including myself, transcend it.

If there’s such a thing as reincarnation, great, but I don’t want to come back again. I want to do whatever God needs me to do while on this funky blue planet. Lead me, show me, I’ll do the work. I just hope by the time they put me in the ground or burn me to ashes I will have earned the right to sit on a cloud and drink beer for millennia. (Laughs.)

But it’s still a challenge, back and forth these last couple of years. I wonder, but I am continuing to trek along as best as I can. I’ve thought about getting additional education, perhaps a master’s or certification to help others, but I’m not sure I can be in a position where I’m listening to people unload the depths of their inner baggage eight to 10 hours a day. I think I’d either need to go back on meds to cope or get a permanent caffeine IV drip. Probably both. When someone tells me problems, I have the tendency to take them on. Sucks being an empathy sometimes. It can emotionally drain me if I am not careful. I am always looking for ways to safely help people without depleting myself and making a mess of my own life. I need to be able to get up in the morning, floss my teeth AND my brain and function as a human being in a busy and demanding world.

So that’s the shortest possible way I can explain myself to you. And sorry for talking so quickly, that’s the East Coast Italian in me.

How would you describe Giggle On in brief terms?

I use laughter as a wellness tool to help improve people’s mood.

What do you do offline with this?

One-on-one coaching occurs. I think because of my approach and my sense of humor, I’m the kind of person people tell stuff to. I can create a trusting bond pretty quickly. In a group situation, what happens is, I’ve learned it’s easier to talk stress and chronic stress instead of mental illness. Talking about suicide prevention makes people run away. I use stress, chronic stress as a segue. A couple years ago, I did an event for attorneys about stress. That opened up an area for me to talk about my story, and about mental health stuff. I said, “Listen, you guys are in a very high-risk category for depression and suicide.” Because I’m not a therapist, I have to be mindful of what I say, but I can be open about my story, give people facts and figures, and then use a yoga approach.

Breathing, all breathing. If you can get a person to oxygenate fully, you’re hitting a home run in the wellness category. Controlled deep breathing, mindfulness and the playfulness of laughter improve people’s moods and positively impact their physical body and spirit. We can down dog and warrior pose all day long, no offense to my yoga peeps, but … The beauty of laughter yoga is this. One, you don’t need to engage the cognitive mind. You don’t speak in laughter yoga, you follow the leader and fake it until you make it. What happens is, when you’re laughing, you’re turning off the stress response. You can’t be stressed and be in monkey mind if you’re laughing. So what I’m doing is helping them turn off left brain and go into creative brain, getting them to play. We’re “Ho-ho-hahaha!” So basically, we have all kinds of breath work we do, granola-head-yoga stuff, I like to say. I teach them three-part, seven-part breath, humming meditation, Darth Vader breath (which is also called Ujjai pranayama or Victorious breath in yoga), and the “Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha” part is essentially modified. Most people don’t give a crap about the Sanskrit names. People in the corporate world, homeless people or AIDS patients or parents of pediatric oncology patients are not concerned with the vocabulary of the breath work. They all want to feel better. That’s what they want. Bottom line is this: if I can get people to inhale deeply and exhale fully for about 20-30 minutes, they will reap benefits. I create a safe and fun environment where people are free to let go and play. Once I give them permission, they are off and running. Once the laughter component starts, the “Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha”s and the unconditional laughter exercises, the increase of endorphins to the brain begins. It’s like magic without the black capes or bunnies out of a hat.

Plus oxygen. Increasing oxygen rich-air not only helps the lungs and brain, but it benefits the heart and muscles. I tell people, “You can go weeks without food, quite a while without water, but not long without oxygen. Just try for a couple minutes and get back to me and let me know how you feel without it.” Most people do not breathe fully anyway. Normally, people are using 25 percent lung capacity, or we call them chest breathers. I work to get people to fill 100 percent of their lungs with oxygen. Your brain works a lot better if it has oxygen, right? That’s the kind of approach I take.

The other cool thing about laughter as an exercise is, anyone can do it. You don’t need special clothes, equipment or experience. All you need is the ability to breathe and a willingness to try to laugh. Granted, if you have stomach staples, a hernia or just had open-heart surgery, hearty belly laughter isn’t for you. Laughter yoga is cardiovascular exercise, and you will get your heart pumping, and many will work up a healthy sweat. It’s good stuff.

Listen, I could talk all day about what happens in a session, but you gotta just do it and see how it feels for you. During sessions I ask people, “Where are you in your life? What would you like to release?” Once they identify, I ask them to just set that baggage down, set down your problems and worries. You can pick it up later if you want. All I want people to do is create happy energy right now. Just play and stay with me.

All I need to do is give them permission and create space, and they’re good to go. It’s not difficult stuff, right? But it’s amazing how powerful it is for people. They have “aha” moments, get into play. By the end of the session, I ask people how they feel. Invariably I get, “That ache and pain is gone.” Problems are not as big. Laughter is a pain reliever. People say PMS or knee pain is gone. My message is, “Listen, I don’t care if you do this again. It won’t offend me personally, but the point is, or ‘point being,’ as Jim #1 used to say, you feel great because you were in play mode, your system is oxygenated, you released stress, set sail in uncharted waters, and look at how you feel.” I love seeing the “aha”s and helping them create positive energy to take away, take back home and hopefully take action to manifest whatever it is they identified on the inside of their circle. Like they tell you in AA, though I’ve never been, the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one. Similarly, if you want a better life, you need to figure out what the hell you actually want. Some people think they know but aren’t really sure. Part of my job is to lovingly and playfully help them extract what they want for themselves. Imagine wanting to go on vacation but not knowing where. How will you get there if you don’t have a destination in mind? Do you want to go to the beach or do you want snow? Relax or have some high-energy activity? It doesn’t matter what it is as long as the person makes a choice and sets sail. We don’t grow or learn inside our comfort zones. We have to break out, try new things and risk failure in order to tap the happy.

I get them jacked out on endorphin juice and leave them relaxed and energized. And depending on the type of group, I’m able to interject or create exercises specifically to whatever problem is going on. Basically, the lesson for everyone is, you can’t change life’s circumstances. I can’t go back in time and make my friend not be dead. I can change how to go forward. You can change your reaction, coping mechanism. Laughter is one way to cope with stress and being overwhelmed. You don’t have to use any drugs, put anything into your body. Holistic. Just try it. It’s so simple, it works really well. I tell people if the pharma companies find out about me, they’ll put a hit out on me. (Laughs.)

I love when  people have “aha” moments and write to me, “That was great!” I tell them, I didn’t do this, YOU did it. You created how great you feel. I want them to leave empowered. As Einstein said, play is the highest form of research. Play and laughter are great releases and healthy activities for the brain. Don’t believe me? Visit my site and look under “resources,” or just do a simple Google search on the benefits of laughter and play. I want to encourage people to let the bad shit go. We’ve gotta set our crap down to allow the good stuff in.

I have two young ladies helping me in the office. I said, “Listen, I’ve been reading positive psychology for like 10 years now. My life experience and lessons are mine, and what I’ve done to help myself is not gonna work for everybody. However, if just 10 percent of people in sessions have an ‘aha’ moment to change their life, then it’s all worth it. If I have helped ONE person, or one person moved on to help someone else live and live a better life, it’s all worth it.”

When I did a stress reduction and laughter session with college kids at the University of Delaware in May, I gave them all the 800-273-TALK crisis line number. I said, “Listen, I’m here because I lost a couple friends to suicide, I was depressed, and I want you to be alive and healthy.” And I asked them to pull out their phones and put in 800-273-TALK right now. They did. They were having so much fun laughing and playing they were open to my suggestion. It was a powerful moment for me. I told them they might have roommates hurting themselves or talking about suicide, and they might not know what to do. You’re not a psychologist, but you can be a caring individual, and you can ask another human being if they are okay. You can listen. Making that step, a call or asking a question, can save someone’s life. I tell them they can be eyes and ears to help keep classmates alive. Then I have them do laughter selfies. (Laughs.) I want the students to remember how great they feel after laughing. No, no drugs, no alcohol, just holistic laughter. I want students to know they are not alone in this process called college. If you have a problem, it’s absolutely OK to ask for help.

I remember being at my 30th birthday party with my parents, crying. I never thought I would make it to 30! I was sure I would be dead. So the fact that I’m still here, I tell them, “Listen guys, I can tell you from my experience. I had my own zip code and lived in the land of ‘I suck.’ I was the Queen there. But you, you don’t have to go it alone.”

So much has changed since I was their age. They have their whole life ahead of them, you know? And they’re in a very high-risk category. It breaks my heart that suicide is the second-leading cause of death for college students. Obviously, a lot of people who attempt don’t succeed. Survivors. There’s a lot of people who attempt. Drugs, other behaviors putting in harm’s way. They think they’re worthless, it breaks my heart.

If the thoughts come back, what do you do?

I say one residual thing I still do, I don’t know why, I used to cut in high school, I don’t cut, but I still rip off my toenails until they bleed. And I tried to stop. I don’t know what it is. I don’t have feelings of I want to end my life anymore, thank God, but I do get feelings very much of being overwhelmed, and how to tackle this mountain of what I’m trying to accomplish on this planet? I’m not sure what to do next. So that makes it hard. It’s difficult for me to admit even now because I’ve come so far, but it’s true. Sometimes I say, “Christa, it’s been two days, you have to shower. You can’t single-handedly save the world.”

My best friend lives next to me. He’s good because he’s kind of like a good positive echo for me to have. That’s part of the reason he still lives next door. We used to be in a relationship. Basically, I live next door to my ex. People ask, “Why not move away?” I’m concerned because he’s my emotional rock. I’m concerned if I get overwhelmed and there’s no sounding board nearby. I’m not saying I would do anything, but it’s like not wanting to get rid of the emotional training wheels. I think that goes for a lot of other people. We need to be around people who are supporting, supporting to us. If not, life challenges are more difficult. I am much more resilient now than I used to be, but people like me need to be vigilant about our brain health. It is a constant effort but something worth doing, because my life is worth it.

That’s what I try to do with other people. I try in my own way to be there as a listener or support system, whether a text or Facebook or Twitter. There are many people I support worldwide, and I’ve never met them. I don’t want to go into detail for their privacy, but let’s just say I know now my life has value because I’ve helped them stay alive.

It’s great the world we live in, with all this communication. Here’s my personal opinion: A lot of people are way too medicated and need less drugs and more hugs. We need more quality human interaction, more face time. When I got depressed or get overwhelmed, I just withdraw. It’s easy to say, “Reach out.” Well, it’s not that easy to say, “I’m going to call some 800 number and talk to someone I don’t know. And who knows if they’ll send cops to my house.”

But at the same time, not doing anything, not providing that number, is not good. You have to do that. You have to do something, Take some positive action. I want people to know, listen, like, I was in a really bad way for decades. There’s a positive way, there’s light. I promise you there’s light. I promise you. Don’t give up. Don’t give up. And it’s very easy to say those words, and for people who haven’t gone through it, it’s easy to say, but.

You get it, I know you get it.

What can be done to make suicide more discuss-able?

Great question. When some of these groups bring me in, for stress stuff, it’s what they like. One wanted me to hit on mental health and suicide prevention, and I did. The girls were very receptive, and I was shocked. It’s very difficult to stand up in front of the room and tell your story, it’s not easy to do.

For example, I was recently in my hometown of Philadelphia for the I Will Listen event, sponsored by NAMI New York and others. It brought so many mental health professionals together. It was in a park, so it was great, all these tables set up, mental health tables, passers-by. And having real conversations with people about mental health and wellness was wonderful. I think it’s those kinds of events, it’s what we as advocates for life need to help educate and reduce stigma. And to be honest, not to toot my own horn, but to engage more people about this difficult topic, we need to create more open atmospheres for people of all walks of the suicidology spectrum to join the conversation, people like you, me, Des from Live Through This, you know, the people who don’t have the mental health degrees but people who have been in the trenches and know how it feels to be depressed for a long time, be suicidal and have attempted to take their own lives.

That said, no one wants to do things that are always depressing. They just don’t. The good thing about the laughter part is, it opens people up: “OK, let’s get real with each other.” I think the community would be well-served where there are more light-hearted events that help bring outsiders to meet insiders. To really reach out and get boots on the ground, get out to the people-people, meet the real people where they are at, outside the psychiatrist’s office and on the streets, so to speak. Everybody can be preaching to themselves all day long, the community can be like an echo chamber. I mean, how much more do you need to know about suicide prevention?

One lady came up to me at my table at I Will Listen, her name was Roslyn. She was shy, hanging out around us for a while, and I started chatting with her. I said, “How do you get your giggle on?” She said, “I’m not good at smiling.” Within two minutes, I had her smiling, playing the kazoo, posing for a photo, and we texted her the photo so she could remind herself that she can smile and looks damn awesome doing it! For me, connecting with a human being with a smile or eye contact or a laugh means this: I see you. I hear what you’re saying. I care about you. A lot of people don’t know this, but I’m basically praying for them when they’re in my presence, so maybe, just maybe, they’ll walk away maybe lighter somehow in their heart and leave feeling better. We need to create an environment where it’s not just, “Let’s talk about suicide and suicide prevention.” … It’s important, don’t get me wrong, but find ways to engage people and, dare I say, have some fun! You’re still giving the seriousness that the subject matter is due, I’m not saying make light of it. But we must try to get out into the public sphere more.

One thing that’s important to many, or at least garners a lot of attention with people, is Hollywood. I’m not a huge fan overall, since a lot of the stuff that comes from Tinseltown is violent and crappy. Hollywood has an enormous role and a lot of power. With that comes responsibility to provide information to the public and make the world a better place. I think there’s a way to get Hollywood types to start addressing this issue in particular. Yeah, bullying, we need to talk about it, but let’s move beyond that and go deeper. If we’re going to get our hands dirty, let’s go all the way! Twenty years ago, nobody talked about cancer. How do we get brain health, suicide, suicide attempt survivor stories and survivors of suicide loss stories into the conversation, on a sitcom, on a reality show? Right? I think, my personal opinion is, when Hollywood gets involved, people start taking notice and the culture shifts, either positively or negatively. Open up the conversation and try to get people thinking a little bit more and hopefully taking positive action. That’s my answer. I’d like to buy a vowel now. (Laughs.)

Who else are you?

Oh my God, with these questions! (Laughs.) I’m a 7-year-old boy trapped in a 45-year-old woman’s body. I went out bike riding today, like a Pee-Wee Herman bike, and I fell off the bike and laughed my ass off, so funny how I fell. I’m kind of a person trying to find the light in very uncomfortable situations. Life is funny, and it’s very serious. Like a bike ride, we all are best served to find a healthy balance of the light and dark.

I’d like to close by saying I’m single, here’s my phone number. If anyone’s interested, but your name can’t be Jim. Just sayin’… (Laughs.)  I’m a person doing this all for a higher power. Because there’s more to life and to me than just bones wrapped in a flesh suit. Who else am I? A very serious person, to be honest with you, trying to get people engaged through light-hearted laughter. But laughter is as important to them as it is to me because without it, I would not be here. I guarantee. When nothing else works, when life gets nasty bad, laughter is often all we’ve got to help us feel like we’re in control of an otherwise out-of-control situation. What else are you gonna do? That’s why I say, when stuff gets out of control, don’t give up, you get your giggle on.

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Talking with Natalie De Stefano

This is a story about someone who worked for years in suicide prevention, knew and preached the coping skills and still ended up trying to kill herself. Natalie De Stefano wrote to me last month, and her story leapt off the page.

Imagine having a migraine, or living on the brink of one, for 20 years. And finding no medications that help. And being told, “Hang on ’til after menopause.” Natalie tried. As she counseled suicidal veterans as a case manager, she wore sunglasses and kept her pills nearby. She loves her work, And then last year, the pain got worse. She began having migraines every day, with nausea and vomiting. After her attempt, she was in a coma for more than a week. She woke up angry.

And pretty bewildered. Her psychiatrist told her he couldn’t see her for three months. “So I sat at home wondering what the heck was I supposed to do. Nobody could relate to me.” In her work, she wrote, “we made sure veterans had follow-up appointments, phone calls, letters, cards, support group meeting appointments, and they were always welcome to call me or drop by anytime. I look at what is happening to me and think, ‘Huh, this is rather strange.'” Finally, her boss at the VA hospital stepped in to take over her care.

Here, Natalie talks about the special challenges of comforting veterans, the national pilot project of veterans’ support groups for attempt survivors and, of course, her most recent lesson in suicide prevention.

I’m a nurse at a VA hospital. I was in the Navy seven years, and so I wanted to be there and serve fellow veterans. Being a nurse is something I decided to do later in life, but I really enjoy it. I really enjoy having vets to talk to. I have a good rapport and understand where they’re coming from because I’ve been exposed to, well, I’ve had depression a lot of my life. I had a lot of the same problems. I know when you’re a vet and you work at the VA, they feel they can trust you more. And if you experienced some of the same things, they feel more open to talk to you about things. So I like that part. I’ve worked in the in-patient psych unit, in suicide prevention. I love all aspects of mental health nursing. Anything about helping people. I just really took the job seriously. If someone called and was suicidal, I just did whatever I could to get them resources to get some help.

I have one son, he lives in Belgium. I had him while I was in the military, to a Italian citizen. We eventually divorced. My son was parentally abducted from me when he was 7, and I haven’t seen him since. He’s 25 now. I only talked to him on phone and Facebook and stuff since he was, like, 13. So that was a lot of depression right there that I eventually overcame, but it’s still there. Both of my parents are gone, no brothers and sisters, just me in the world. So I go to work and really put my, you know, it’s like my family.

I have a dog. My dog is like the thing I love so much. He’s a Boston terrier, his name is Adler. He has so much energy. He gets up on my bed, kisses me, keeps me going. I have a roommate who’s also a nurse at the VA. We keep each other going. She’s a psych nurse also. That’s basically who I am.

There must be something about dogs. So many people I speak with have them.

Yes, I when went to a conference in San Francisco, we had a woman speak about how effective they are as therapy. Really, I always tell vets, if you’re able to take care of yourselves, a dog is so beneficial.

I’m thinking over what you said in your e-mail. One part that really stood out was when you said that you had worked in suicide prevention and knew exactly what to do.

Obviously, I know all the coping skills. We have a group at our VA. If you’re at high risk for suicide, you’ve had a high-risk attempt, we have a group on Tuesdays at 1:30 and Thursdays at 6 for people who survived, because they have no one else to talk to. They just give each other encouragement.  Part of my job was to call people, make sure they were OK. I called them every week: “Hi, this is Natalie, how are you doing today? What’s going on? Any suicidal thoughts? Have you eaten today? Have you taken your meds? Do you need to talk?” Plus, we sent out cards and letters. I tell people they can stop by the hospital any time it’s convenient, just come into my office and I’ll make time to talk. So I knew, I know what people need when it’s over and they’re just left there. And I know what they feel when they’re getting ready, when they’re on the edge. So I know both sides of the coin.

So, after it was over and they told me I could go home, nobody made any appointments for me. I was at a regular hospital. I had been in a coma eight days and was not expected to live. I had a living will, but they didn’t honor it. Anyway, nobody helped me. My psychiatrist didn’t contact me, and when I tried to make an appointment, I was in shock, and he couldn’t give me an appointment until the middle of March. So I was like, “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t have my medicine.” It was like, “This is terrible.” I kept trying to call and page him.

I have really bad insomnia. While I was in a coma, I lost a lot of my short-term memory. I have no ability to sleep now. I will stay awake 24 hours a day. I’m literally awake if I don’t have something to help me. I was awake for days. I finally talked to the chief of mental health at the VA and she said, “Just let us handle your care.” She got me to a new psychiatrist who didn’t know me as a VA employee. So she was very nice to me, and on a day she wasn’t even working, she met me and talked to me, worked out a treatment plan. She understood I couldn’t sleep and made it available for me to get meds to sleep. Because if I don’t sleep, it brings on migraines, which was the number one reason for my attempt. So that was really important. That was good.

Also, normally, our psychiatrists at the VA are so busy, they only see you 15 minutes to do a med check. Also psychotherapy. So she’s really going over and above. Tomorrow, I have an hour’s appointment. I can talk about all that’s going on, what’s changed, what’s gotten better. She’s really more like a therapist and a psychiatrist all in one. Normally you just go into the psychiatrist and it’s, “How’s your medicine working? OK, see you in three months.” My chief of mental health helped me so much. She helped facilitate because I’m still on leave. They’re really just like a family. And I know a lot of people have one bad experience and think all of the VA sucks, so this is just to let them know it doesn’t.

How recent was this for you?

Jan. 11

You’re OK talking about it?

Yeah. It’s all right.

With all of your experience in suicide prevention, how could you still do it?

My number one thing was pain. And pain, as I found in working in that suicide prevention position, pain is a big, big factor for people. You don’t understand until it’s your own personal thing. I had migraines for over 20-something years. And for the last six months before my attempt, the migraines were worse and worse. I missed so much work. I went to doctor after doctor. They tried me on different medications, which made me sick to my stomach, made me uncomfortable, fatigued. They never, ever took the pain away. I went to one, supposedly this person in the civilian world who was a headache specialist. I’m 50 years old, and I can’t go on vacation, can’t go out at night, can’t make plans because I don’t know if I’ll have a headache. It had been that way for a long time. So I see this specialist, or his nurse practicioner. She doesn’t have much of anything new to tell me. She tells me that in time, it will get under control. Well, my time was up. I was tired of having a headache, and I’m sure people were tired of hearing me say I had a headache. The pain was just so excruciating.

I had an outside therapist and kept telling her this pain was really starting to get to me. And I knew what the coping skills are. But to me, in my mind, it was best not to have the pain at all. I just didn’t want the pain anymore. I’ve heard all the arguments about that. You know, “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” Well, this temporary problem was going on for over 20 years. It was a problem every single day. It had become who I was, and if you knew me, that’s what you associated me with, having a headache. And it wasn’t just me. My mother had had these, and I just saw how she was. And I didn’t want to be some debilitated person. I just wanted to go out my way. That’s it. I really had no intention of ever being alive again. I thought I had planned it pretty good. But someone had another plan for me.

But yeah, I had been going to more frequent counseling. I journal, I crochet, I do tons of different stuff. I have my dog, I read, I do a bunch of stuff on the Internet. I do a lot of coping skills, you know. And I know the coping skills for pain and have told them to people. “Why not have a nice hot shower?” I’m in so much pain that only if I got a gun and shot my head, and you’re telling me to take a hot shower? I don’t think so. For a time I was on narcotic pain medicine, but that just took it away for that moment and then it was back again, a blinding insane pain.

How is it now? How are you?

On Friday, I went to my VA primary care doctor to get medication that you can take every day to cut down on the frequency and intensity of headaches, but nobody wanted to let me take it because suicidal thoughts are one side effect. Well, that’s one side effect of almost every medication. I was getting frustrated, crying, couldn’t take it anymore. So I’ve been taking it since Friday, not really time to build up, still having some headaches. But if I take the medicine immediately. And I know what all my migraine triggers are. Last night, the guy next door, teenagers, started playing their garage band outside, so that one I had no control over. I just had to deal with it. I’m hoping that will cut down on things for me. And I’ve got about six appointments. Before, all they wanted to do was MRI and CT. Now they’re doing vascular studies for circulation to my brain, some really in-depth tests to figure out what’s going on. This much was not done until it got serious.

How much longer are you on leave?

I don’t know, that’s up to the psychiatrist.

What have been the reactions?

Most people that I helped knew I was a veteran. Of course, I didn’t cross the therapeutic boundary and share my personal life. I think some knew I’d had headaches. I had the meds on my desk, had sunglasses on, things like that. The majority of them don’t know, but the ones I’ve seen have been OK with it. They treated me like another veteran. I think the employees have been a little more uncomfortable, not the ones I work with directly, but some others have been more uncomfortable with me than the veterans themselves.

Why?

I think because a lot of the veterans I worked with in suicide prevention, I also had worked with them in the residential substance abuse unit, so I guess they could empathize.

Like you empathized with them in the first place.

Exactly. You don’t have to really know what someone’s reason was. You just have to know it was something they couldn’t deal with anymore. You don’t have to know that much about it to know it was something extremely disturbing to them to do that. It really has to be your very last resort. And I’m not saying it was easy to do. It was something I had resigned myself to. I just got up and, I don’t really remember much about that day even. I just had read a whole lot and wanted to make sure that I didn’t throw up, drank milk between handfuls of pills. I remember lying down on the bed, but that’s not where they found me.

They took you to a non-VA hospital. Once you woke up, how were you treated?

While I was in ICU, they were very nice. I had a one-to-one sitter. At first, I didn’t realize that was going on. That’s the right protocol. The nurses were nice. I couldn’t eat anything or drink anything after they removed the tube from my throat. They gave me some ice chips. I was so thirsty. They got a little impatient with me then. But you know, nurses have a lot to do. I understand it.

How did you wake up?

I don’t know. I have absolutely no idea. I just remember, I guess it was one morning, and I opened my eyes, and when I opened them I thought, “Oh shit, this is not good.” I saw my roommate and my boyfriend and I was just like, “Oh my God.” The chief of mental health came and was saying, “I’ll take care of everything for you, Natalie. Don’t worry about missing work, just call us and let us know what’s going on.” Of course, lots of things were going through my head. I was angry, really angry.

How do you get over that?

Well, I think you just have to …  I think I’m still angry. I don’t think you can get over it that fast. I just try to push it to the back of my mind. I think the only time I think of it is when I get a headache: “I never would have had to deal with this if I had died.”

When had your migraines started?

They started in the military. The day I got out of boot camp, me and two other girls in the same command, we rented a car. We were in Florida and were going to a girl’s home in Alabama for an Auburn football game. We had three days’ leave. She was driving really fast in the country. I was sitting in the front seat: “Please slow down, you’re scaring me.” “Oh, I know the road like back of my hand.”

I just remember the car just rolling, and then I woke up and went through the windshield and woke up in a bush. I don’t know. I lost my shoes. All these trucks had pulled over, and all these people were praying over me. And the girl in the back broke her neck. So, the start of really bad headaches.

How will this recent experience change what you do in your work? Will it?

Well, yeah. I think the three of us, when we worked together in the office, we went to so many educational seminars. I read so much, just trying to get as much information about suicide as we possibly could. I think that we heard so many people say that, you know, suicide is preventable. And I think you can help some people to not do it. But I think in my mind, maybe I just thought that if you reached anybody in time, you can stop them. Now I know that you may be able to reach 99 percent, but pain is the one driving force that people can’t live with. And a lot of suicides I saw, or attempted suicides, were over relationship problems, “My wife left me, my girlfriend left me.” Even the completions were about relationship things. The people who ended up, most of the ones completing, though, were pain things. And at the end of my time in that job, the KASPER reports were coming out, and people were cracking down on not giving out pain medication, and more people were calling the hotline saying they would kill themselves because their doctor stopped the pain medication. People really have legitimate pain, and they all get lumped into the same category of drug-seeking, and you leave out people truly with pain issues, and that’s where these things can happen.

Now you work in a different section of the VA.

I have people who say they had a suicide attempt and were addicted to, say, crack, and so they left the inpatient unit of psych and came to my unit. They’re still dealing with what they did. So I think that’s more insight when talking to people, and understanding.

You mentioned not crossing the boundary of therapy and telling too much about yourself. But it seems it would be helpful if a person knew that the therapist really understood their situation. How do you balance that?

Some things you can do. But you have to be really selective about with whom, and what information, you share. If I was talking one-to-one with somebody who, say, lost a child or had a child taken away to foster care or such, and they’re angry and upset and having suicidal thoughts, “No one understands about not having my child,” I might share something about that. Because a lot of times when you’re in a really dark spot, you feel no one understands where you’re coming from. So, knowing that the person you’re talking to has experienced something in that area, that can develop good rapport. You don’t have to tell your whole life story, because you’re not there to be their friends. Because then they’re confused. You’re there to support, but you want them to know you’re a person and not immune. A lot of times people think, “You’re hospital employees, you have no problems,” but that’s not the case at all. You just have to draw that line.

Can you imagine sharing your recent experience?

I can. Yeah, I can.

How?

It would depend on the person. Maybe if they were still in that angry state. It’s hard for people to actually get clean. So, doing the work of getting clean and just having a suicide attempt, that’s two things to work with. And if you’re angry you’re still alive and you’re trying to get clean, and you feel nobody else understands because “I don’t even want to be alive, but I’m trying go get off crack” or whatever, at times I think a powerful something like that can be helpful to somebody. I don’t think it would be something I would share every day.

I’m always surprised to hear about stigma among colleagues in the mental health profession. That they wouldn’t mention their past. These are just the kinds of issues you’ve trained for.

Sometimes at work, people just freak out, even though they work in that area. They don’t expect to see that from you if you’re working there. They’re at a loss. To me, I think I would be able to make that transition to, “This is someone who needs help,” but I guess some people can’t. It’s too scary for some people. It’s still suicide. And there are still people who don’t want to talk about it. We constantly did education on how to handle a suicidal phone caller. And there were people who were like, “I can’t talk to someone who is suicidal.” Licensed social workers of 20 years! People get nervous and anxious and feel like they might say the wrong thing and don’t know what to say. We do the training to explain it to them, but I think it just obviously takes a special person to work in that area.

And it’s stressful, I’m not gonna lie. There’s so much PTSD, and there’s so much self-medication, and there’s so much suicidal thoughts that even people in the retail store of the VA or other areas like MRI, CT, X-ray, they still have to have those communication skills. Therapeutic communication skills are a must at the VA. You can’t be the VA of the 1960s anymore, where people were yelling at you and ignoring you and pretending your problems were not there. This is where everyone’s trained on how to talk to you if you’re freaking out, having a flashback. If it’s happening in the lobby and a greeter is there, in the pharmacy, they should know to handle it.

Do they?

Yes, that’s part of the suicide prevention policy. I’ve been training all over the hospital. And when something happens, nine out of 10, it’s because somebody didn’t know how to verbally de-escalate the person who was upset. You know, people don’t have a lot of patience. PTSD, people with depression, they don’t want to get out of the house, much less go to the pharmacy and wait two hours. So they raise their voice. So the response is not to raise your voice even higher or to treat them like a child: “Listen here!” That’s not the correct response. The correct response is to lower your voice and ask, “How can I help you right now? Can you explain the situation to me, please, so I can try and help you better?”

I don’t think I’ve asked, where are you?

I’m in Louisville, Kentucky.

How would you change the system, based on your experience?

I still think there’s a lot of stigma as far as active-duty people. You can tell. When I do trainings in different places, it’s just not something … It’s still, “Suck it up and go on.” A lot of times, it’s mostly in the Army and Marine Corps. I think the Air Force and Navy are pushing to not hold it against you when you have suicidal thoughts and get help.

The speakers who would get up and talk, you could tell there was still somewhat of a stigma. And the survivors of the men _ I say boys _ who committed suicide were so angry because had written letters to commanding officers and nothing got done.
And you know, for me, the pain was my number one thing, but for them, it was what they’ve seen that was the number one thing. As much as my pain was an everyday source of stress to me, these young men, what they’ve seen is so completely horrific that it invades their thoughts every single day, and it gets to the point where they can’t deal with it.

We really have to be more aware of what’s going on around us. I would go do a training and ask, “OK, what are the signs that someone might be depressed?” And then, “When they get worse, what are some signs?” Some people might know, but if they’re in the military, the thoughts get kind of pushed aside in the immediate day-to-day things they have to do.

But now what they’re here, the spouses have to be more aware. I have a lady who does my hair, and her husband just got back. I told her if he needs anything to come see me. I’ve asked her, “How are things going?” “Well, he’s having problems adjusting.” “Is he angry?” “Yes.” “Is he violent?” “Not with me and the kids.” And last time, she said he had been drinking more than he usually did.

I think people don’t want to believe it’s something that could happen. And the soldiers don’t want to tell their wives these things. Or they’re self-medicating. They’ve got kids to take care of. The wives just really have to know. The families have to know. The friends have to know. And if you’re not mental health professionals and not involved with their care, you think, “Oh, he’s just going through a hard time, he’ll be all right.” That’s a 50-50 chance you’re taking.

I just talked to my stepmother for the first time last night since I got out of the hospital. She said she had asked my roommate, “Do you think she did that on purpose?” My roommate said, “Of course.” My stepmother told her she had had no idea I was having those kinds of thoughts, but she had heard me every day say what kind of pain I was in.

I’m not arguing here, but saying you’re in pain is not the same as saying, “I’m in so much pain, I’m going to end it.”

You know, to me, if somebody’s talking to me on the phone every day a lot, and they were talking to me about how much pain they were in, crying, how they had no life because they had nothing but pain, I would immediately be talking to their family. I would. Anything that is invading somebody’s thoughts every day to the point where it’s consuming their life definitely is something to be concerned about, and if they’re not talking about it, but maybe something has changed, they’re not talking about it at all, they’re isolating, you know, I would be bringing that to somebody’s attention. It’s not always going to be the textbook signs and symptoms.

When I go out to, you know, I’d go to the mall _ well, not the mall, because I hate the mall _ but I could tell, I could see people’s depression. If I saw someone was crying, sometimes I’d go up to someone I didn’t know and talk to them. I’d be at Costco or whatever and see someone having a hard time and just talk to them.

It’s a lot of work, and lot of times it’s easier for people to think, “She’ll be all right.” And once you bring up that thing and you ask somebody, “Are you having suicidal thoughts? Are you thinking about killing yourself?” you’re kind of in the driver’s seat. To talk to them. You know, that’s why we have the QPR training. It takes time to have those conversations. People, a lot of times, are just involved in their own thing.

You see so many people at these conventions, 900 or 1,000 people at these conventions, all trying to get information on how to help people. Think about that. Only 1,000, then all the people who are suffering, maybe be having suicidal thoughts. And these people are trying to increase awareness.

You know, if you Google “survivors of suicide,” that’s for the people who are like the wives, the husbands, the parents. They’re not for the people who have survived their own attempts.

You said you have a support group at the VA. I’m impressed.

Yeah, but I don’t go to that one. It would be crossing the boundary a bit. I want to go where I can feel free, open up about myself a bit without making people feel uncomfortable. We have people who have come to our support group since day one, almost three years. They all relate to each other, provide support. There’s not something like that in the community. There’s just not. And it’s a shame. And there’s a bit of an insurance thing about that. “You can’t get a bunch of suicidal people in the same room talking about suicide.” It’s like the, “Don’t mention suicide because they’ll kill themselves.” Or like, “Don’t talk about contraception because they’ll go have sex.” Myths.

I’m curious, does every VA hospital have a support group?

No it’s a pilot program that started at ours. Now Dr. Jobes is using his model, helping them with a grant to show that it helps. I really can’t speak to how that’s going, but I know our groups had something to do with that. And people didn’t initially want to go: “I’m not going to sit around with a bunch of people talking about killing ourselves!” But we urged people to go to four groups, and for the most part, people who came to the four groups were glad they did it. Some stayed for months. Some never left. It’s what they needed. And everyone’s free to come back.

Otherwise, you’re just left to deal with it on your own. Really, there’s nothing. You can journal. I journal a lot.