A man I loved as a dear friend has died by suicide. He was suffering with depression. He suffered alone. Didn’t reach out to his friends. To the many who knew and loved him, it’s come as a complete shock.
This Man I Loved…
… was called Laurence Brown. I loved him because he was so full of life and generous of spirit. He spent his life working as a coach; helping and motivating people. He brought people from the depths of despair and cheered them on until they felt better about themselves. He made it his life’s mission to give of himself.
Depression seems to have taken a hold. It crept up silently. And took him.
I first met him nearly 15 years ago. If you met him, you’d never forget him. He wore the brightest clothes you could imagine. A big toothy smile. He had a way of leaving you feeling inspired and feeling good about yourself. Charisma and warmth just emanated from him.
‘Depression’ or ‘depressed’ would never have been a word I’d associate with this man. Certainly not suicide.
He’s one of the ‘voices’ I carry in my head. His catch phrase was ‘STAY IN YOUR LANE’! He always meant for you to keep to your own goals and stick with them. Don’t waiver. Stop making excuses. Don’t worry about what anyone else is or isn’t doing. Just ‘Stay in your lane’! I say that to myself (in his voice) so often, that it’s become my own personal mantra. It’s helped me go for what I desired (to study to become a therapist… while working full time), achieve every goal I’ve set myself… and start my own therapy practice. I stayed in my lane and powered forward. I work really hard to that mantra every day. Depression, meanwhile, was slowly taking hold of my friend.
In those quiet moments
I can’t say, looking back, that all of his life was great. He’d had a few lows that he seemed to have bounced back from. He seemed to be great at self-care. Watched his diet and exercised regularly. He recognised when he needed the nurture of his family abroad. So he went to see them. He recognised he needed some therapy. Then he went and got some.
What none of us know is when it all got too much. When the silent depression got to him. Why didn’t he call any of us that loved him? Did he really know how much we cared? After helping so so many of us reach our potential, did he feel he couldn’t reach out to us for help?
Call it what it is: #SayNoToSuicide
People may ask why I’ve named Laurence and posted his photos?
This is because I loved him. And I want to honour him.
There is no shame in death by suicide. There is no shame in depression… mild, moderate or severe.
Had he died in a car accident or of an illness, I would just have proudly named him and shared photos of him. I would just have proudly written about him and what he meant to me. As long as we stay silent, not acknowledging our losses to suicide, we keep this irreversible symptom of depression hidden.
When cancer was only silently spoken about as ‘the C word’… it went unnoticed. Slowly killing millions. As soon as it was brought out into the light #StandUpToCancer… the funding rolled in, everyone’s been talking about it and cures are being researched all over the world. Well here’s hoping #SayNoToSuicide and #SayNoToDepression equally brings in loads of funding for research, gets everyone talking and we actually find a cure! The cure will be that no one need die needlessly alone. Depression need no longer take our loved ones from us in this extreme way.
As people start talking openly about the people they’ve lost, we’ll continue to see a shift in how depression is seen. Especially by men. Hopefully, one day, suicide won’t ever feel like a solution to anyone. Ever.
My sister’s keeper
I am my sister’s keeper. Just like she’s a keeper of me. So of course, when I met this wonderful guy, I introduced her to him too. He touched her life too. She’s the one who called and said ‘Are you sitting down?’ when she broke the news of his death. We’ve talked about him so often since. The sad thing is, he probably died not knowing how often we each thought about him. How proud we were to know him. How much we loved and admired him.
That’s the thing about life… and suicide. Too many people die never knowing just how much they have touched others. Just how much they are loved. How much they will be missed. They die thinking they can’t reach out to anyone. Depression robs them of the ability to stop. Think. Don’t do this…
I hadn’t seen him for a while. But I can honestly say that right up to the day I heard of his death, I thought about him that morning. I thought about another of his catchphrases and smiled to myself while waiting for a bus. He died never knowing how much I loved him as a friend and a decent human being.
My sister wrote the piece below and I immediately asked if I could publish it here…
It’s time for men to talk about depression
Forget ‘social media’ movements. Forget showing the highlight reel of your life. Look someone in the eye today, make a human connection, and ask, really ask, and really listen for the answer: “Are you okay?”
Depression. Mental Health.
But the reality is, there exists a level below these headlines where thousands of men are living daily. A level of feeling that is an insidious killer… sadness, anxiety, a depressive state.
In our communities, in our neighbourhoods, in our friend groups… on television, in the media, we hear a lot about removing the ‘stigma’ of mental health issues. We hear about ‘Depression’. Some of us have no idea what that actually looks like, but by-golly we know it shouldn’t have a sigma.
I wish to detract in no way from the diagnosis of depression when I say that men are having ‘depressive episodes’. They are sad, anxious; and/or hurt. But they are not acknowledging it out loud because it doesn’t look like the severe depression depicted on TV. They’re checking themselves for ‘bullet holes’ and in finding nothing that resembles what’s on TV, are deciding not to speak up.
“I’m not Depressed like on telly…. if I had ‘mental health issues’ I’d know!”
“I’m bathing, going to work, laughing with my mates. I can put on a darn good mask of ‘happy’. Nah that’s not me.”
“This feeling in my gut that the world is a black hole? I’ll ignore it.”
“I’m a man. I’m meant to be unshakeable, unbreakable, dependable, infallible.”
Well, no. You’re not. And you are not alone.
An episode of depression
It is possible to be in a depressive episode for a year, two years, a couple of months… where you just feel lost. You feel raw and hurt. Maybe a relationship has broken down. Or you’ve lost your sense of self-worth with the loss of a job, a failing marriage, overwhelming bills, bereavement or been assaulted. Maybe you just feel unrelentingly sad. Anxious. You can’t sleep. Your life feels stagnant, and feels like there’s no way for it to move forward. You’re drinking and smoking more?
When it all gets too much
You don’t want to disappoint or scare anyone by speaking up. Don’t want to be a burden. You are so used to being all things to all people, you just can’t force that plea for help from your mouth.
As a man, that lump in your throat called ‘man up’, ‘suck it up’, ‘pillar of strength’ seems so insurmountable. It’s so ingrained that it’s cutting off your very breath.
Well, stop. Breathe. I’m here to tell you it’s okay.
It’s okay to be sad.
Okay to feel lost, scared, or anxious.
It’s okay to seek help
No matter how bad this time is, no matter how dark the night; dawn always comes.
This episode, this moment, has been long, but it will pass.
No condition is permanent – not even the good ones – so you know I’m not lying when I say ‘this too shall pass’.
There is a space in many hearts waiting to share the load that you think is your sole burden.
If you are struggling with depression and having suicidal thoughts, you can call the Samaritans, 24/7, for free on 116 123.
If you live in London and would like to book some therapy to talk through how you’re feeling, call one of us – Emma or Sharon – to book an appointment. Let’s talk.