This is my story. No, I’m not Madison – never been a teenage girl, and I never did the things that she did in her past. My parents paid lots of attention to me – probably too much. But you see, one of the “blessings” of being a manic depressive is that every few years (or months), you will decide to destroy yourself. You’ll think about it, you’ll make a plan, you’ll pick a date, you’ll count the days leading up to the deed, and then you’ll just do it. From the ages of 12 to 28, I tried 6 times. I also “practiced” plenty in between. Obviously, I wasn’t very good at it, except for the last time, when I damned near succeeded. Madison wore a tattoo around her wrist that said “Forget Me”. My “trophies” are much less elegant – just a bunch of ugly scars and burn marks.
But this is my other blessing: when I finally tamed the “demon” that possessed my head (and I do say that metaphorically, not literally), I dedicated most of my free time to keeping other kids and adults from ever trying and/or succeeding. I’m the Mitch who lived. I run a support group for manic depressives and depressives, and I like to think I’ve done a pretty good job so far. My wife and I also adopted a bipolar child from foster care – because probably almost no one would have given an 8 year old boy that chance – older “damaged” kids don’t make it to the top the adoption list. But I knew what he would live, and thank God, I have managed to keep him from sharing that particular part of my life story for the past 10 years.
Ms. King gets depression down to a T. The self-loathing. The feeling of being alone and not deserving to have people in your life. The desperate need to just stop breathing because that is the only way the pain will ever stop. And the self blame…blaming ourselves for things that we had no or next to no control over. The way she described Madison’s inner dialogue – I didn’t just read that. I felt it. It was a lot like “Killing Me Softly”. I wanted to stop reading and I just couldn’t. Did I want to yell at her and tell her to just give herself a break? Hell yes. Did people do that to me? Hell yes to that to. But nothing happens until you pull out the strength from inside of you. You don’t snap out of it, you crawl out of it. And yes, I very much wanted to strangle Donna, because she is exactly the kind of person you DON’T need in your life when you are in a depression.
The only problem I had with this book was the time frame. She halted her plan, and after 8 weeks, was beginning to actually flourish. After 4 years of non-stop depression, it takes more than 8 weeks to start living again. Breathing yes, but I felt that the book should have been spread out over more than 8 weeks (not counting the epilogue).
Remember this: a temporary problem NEVER calls for a permanent solution. A temporary problem NEVER calls for a permanent solution. And the only problem that is permanent is death. We all get there eventually. There is no need to speed the trip along. If you ever think you can’t make it to tomorrow, Google a suicide hotline in your area. They are there. Go to dbsalliance.org (Depression Bipolar Support Alliance). We will guide you to people who will listen you and who will help you. No one is ever really alone. Hell, just email me.