I'm going to toot my own horn here, indirectly remind others with depression how great their work is, and directly tell those who are not suicidal to appreciate the work we do. Conversations about the relationships between suicidal and non-suicidal people are almost always framed as what *you* are doing to support *us.* That's an important topic, but talking about it to the exclusion of what *we* do for *you* is detrimental. There's an important element that suicidal people are constantly attacked for non-adherence, but when we *do* adhere to this unofficial "rule," we don't get recognition, much less respect and appreciation for it. We work our asses off to keep the struggle going FOR YOU. We don't want the people we care about to be sad. So we continue to live a life that is bad enough to prefer death (or, for many, not prefer death per se, so much as we want something to end, and death is or seems like the only way to achieve ending it). We could be doing this for a single day or several years, and everywhere in between. It's exhausting, mentally and physically. I have never had a job that was as hard as staying alive when I have an illness that literally makes me want to die. It's WORK. I don't have to put that work in. None of us do. If you have an at-risk loved one still hanging on, odds are it's because of the intensely difficult labor they put in to make sure you don't have to deal with loss just yet. Treat them like who and what they are. Treat them like someone who is immensely considerate of you, who routinely sacrifices what they want for you. Treat them like someone who has a hard job with long hours. Treat them like someone who has a chronic illness that is more manageable at some times than others.
Overlooked reasons for going to hell: Carrying on a conversation with someone after they have said goodbye (or other widely accepted sign-off term), as if you didn't hear them when you did. "Fixing" things about a person's appearance (bra strap, hair, etc) without asking. Answering the cellphone you didn't bother silencing in a library. Constantly putting other people's cups in the sink when they're not done using them.
One of my favorite things about a history of abuse is that the most confusing and even suspicious thing a person can do is act with tenderness toward me.
Random people: "You get to go to college for free since you're Native American, right?" Me: *cries a slow, single tear as the wind picks up my hair and a flute plays mournfully from nowhere*
I've never seen a sex scene or post-sex scene in a movie or tv show in which any of the characters try repeatedly to pull a stray body hair from their mouth, and this was probably the most unrealistic expectation I received from Hollywood as a teen.
The character development for Steve in Season Two was like anti-nausea meds for the vomit-inducing teen soap that was Nancy's love life in Season One.
"Pretty pretty rainbow!" -Me "YOU'RE a pretty pretty rainbow!" -My S.O.
Love is knowing your person would snort coke off your boobs if they did coke.
-
-
I've seen a lot of things going around about how people should go to prison for claiming rape and then saying it didn't happen. Reminder that victims are often coerced into "taking it back." In the many cases in which the victim knew their rapist, they are often guilted into saying it didn't really happen. Even without such overt pressure, victims will sometimes say it didn't happen simply because of how much they wish it didn't really happen, and how much they wish they didn't have to deal with the fallout. The psychological trauma that can follow denying your own sexual assault is tremendous. Don't make it worse for closeted victims by calling for prison sentencing.