Ever since I heard about Allison Goldstein’s death, I have felt the urgent need to draw further attention to the conversation around Postpartum depression and suicide prevention. Allison’s life can still impact other lives. I look at her life and death and see unbelievable beauty, an iron will, and a pain so heavy and terrible as to crush the mettle of even such a strong woman.
The thing that shook me most about Allison’s story is that NO ONE KNEW there was even a problem. She managed to hide the kind of pain that could kill a person from even her closest family and friends. I have no idea how she did that. It must have taken incredible strength. I’m not sure what would motivate someone to bear that kind of pressure alone. She must have felt oh, so alone.
I imagine her decision to hide had something to do with shame. Shame is usually the motivation for hiding. Which leads me to wonder, what have we done as a society to pile up so much shame on a person in pain? Have we no pity?
I believe it is not pity our society lacks but understanding. I also do not assume that society is the only source of shame a person with mental illness feels. Much of the pressure is internal, much of the guilt inherent in the illness itself. The illness causes contortions of the brain that make the individual believe lies of shame: “No one else could be as bad as me.” And so the person keeps it all hidden, gives no one the chance to disprove the lies she believes, and thereby perpetuates those very lies. Since no one talks about it, the shame and stigma remain.
In this way depression is like a social virus, infecting individuals instead of cells. The afflicted person is of course unable to bring the lies into the light--she cannot recognize them as lies, since she believes them. Silence breeds shame, which feeds the lies, and they pass silent and undetected through our culture. The silent cells spread the very virus of shame that destroys them.
When I first heard Allison’s story, I soon noticed this shame creeping into my mind. Here was this incredible, beautiful, intelligent, successful woman who had been destroyed by this illness and had never even complained. And then there I was, blurting out all about my pain--online no less! I never was good at hiding my feelings. And I was so debilitated by the illness that those around me could not help but see how much I had changed. But notice how my mind twisted that truth: I let myself become debilitated. I allowed the illness to change me. I am bad at hiding my feelings. I asked for help.
Horror of horrors, I showed my feelings and asked for help. And I believe that is why I--and my child--are alive today.
Think about it. Since when was hiding a good thing? Since when did hiding require an admirable type of strength?
I am NOT saying that Allison was not strong, or admirable. Quite the contrary. I am saying that even someone as strong as she was could not stand under the pressure of postpartum depression.
Depression can break anyone. Anyone, no matter how strong, how well-adjusted, how apparently secure--having all the appearance qualities we admire and desire in our society--may be vulnerable to mental illness.
Can’t you see? Dear one, I pray that somehow the light will penetrate your darkness and you will see that there is no shame in mental illness. There is no shame in depression, and there is certainly no shame in reaching out for help. Your brain may be sick, but your mind and your soul still have great strength. If you have been bearing it all alone, it’s time to break the silence.
