Why Therapy is Not Uncool

I knew I would eventually have to take an inward look at myself and figure out how to deal with all the hurt and anger I felt due to past experiences (i.e., sexual abuse, alcoholic single parent, absentee father, disgustingly flirtatious step-father, etc). Little did I know that a dear friend of mine would help turn my "eventually" (which, for me, usually meant never) into TODAY.

When I arrived at work last Monday, I noticed my buddy Helen* seemed a little more quiet than usual, but since she has always been the dark brooding type I thought nothing of it--nothing, until, on a stroll to the break room for coffee, she casually mentioned- as if discussing a mildly unpleasant trip to the mall- that her really good friend had spent all weekend talking her out of committing suicide. I was floored. Thinking back though, I do remember seeing some of the classic signs of mild depression- I just never thought she would ever contemplate suicide. But here it was, in her own words, "Sunny*, I felt hopeless. Like I didn't mean anything to anyone anymore. I was just tired of hurting."

The national suicide rates are alarming, but I don't want to distract you with figures and what "studies show/indicate" right now, that data is over-abundant on-line and through the media. I just want to share with you what I learned after I discovered one of my dearest friends could have faded from my life forever had she not called out to someone for help. I learned that I too, along with anyone else in my life (friends, family, close and not-so-close acquaintances), could be just as likely to give in to thoughts of hopelessness if no better options are clear to them, and if they feel as if no one is around who would understand that hopelessness.