Depression Lies: Woman Writes Plainly about Sister's Depression & Suicide

[marqualler]

Because depression is a bedfellow of the anxiety that comes with Tinnitus, I wanted to share this article written by a woman in Minnesota who wrote an amazing article about her sister's depression and suicide. These I think are powerful words. Although she did not suffer from Tinnitus as far as I know, I think the depression that she suffered from is likely similar to that which many of us have experienced as well.

http://www.startribune.com/obituary-told-the-painful-truth-about-suicide/373378961/

The most alone I have ever felt was standing on my front porch on a chilly February evening. My sister had taped a note to the front door that said: "Eleni, if you're the first one here don't go in the basement. Just call 911. I don't want you to see me like this. I love you! Love, Aletha."

She put an identical sign on the back door. Even in the midst of consuming depression, Aletha tried to protect me from the full horror of her suicide.

I stood on the porch shivering from cold and sheer terror. I didn't just feel alone. I felt like I was in a vacuum in the middle of space with everything I knew being pulled away from me. The universe was suddenly a very vast place, and I was very, very, very alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, the police officers told me plainly, "Aletha is dead."

What followed that stark statement was a sudden moment of lucidity in which only one thing mattered: the truth. I had to be honest. I had to tell the truth.

By the time I sat down to write my sister's obituary for the Duluth News Tribune, I knew that the opening line could only be one thing: "Aletha Meyer Pinnow, 31, of Duluth (formerly of Oswego and Chicago, Ill.) died from depression and suicide on February 20, 2016."

I went on to share with everyone — friends, family, students and work colleagues — the cause of my sister's death: depression and suicide. I told them that my hilarious, kind, generous, helpful, silly and loving sister couldn't see any of that in herself, and it killed her. I told them that her depression created an impenetrable fortress that blocked the light, preventing the love of her friends, her family, and any sense of comfort and confidence from reaching her.

My loneliness and terror on the front porch was nothing compared with the absolute isolation that depression had imposed on my sister. I had to tell the truth.

Depression lied to my sister, told her that she was worthless. A burden. Unlovable. Undeserving of life. I imagine these lies were like a kind of permanent white noise in her life — a running narration of how unworthy she was. After years of the lies and the torment, my sister believed that depression told her the truth. In the notes she left for my parents and me, Aletha wrote, "Don't feel sad, I'm not worth it."

She was so wrong. Depression lies. I have to tell the truth.

Here is the truth: My sister was amazing. She exuded life and made my life millions of times better just by existing. Anytime I needed help, anytime I was struggling, anytime depression and anxiety overwhelmed me, Aletha was there. Anytime I had a good day, I needed to share it with her. She was my anchor. Aletha and I had a relationship and a closeness that I will never have again.

Depression stole decades of our lives together. Depression lies. I have to tell the truth.

My sister's depression fed on her desire to keep it secret and hidden from everyone. I could not save my sister. I could not reach my sister through her depression. Aletha slipped from my grasp, and I cannot bring her back. I can only urge others to distrust the voice of depression. I can plead for people to seek help and treatment. I can talk about depression and invite others to the conversation. I can tell everyone who will listen that depression lies. I can tell the truth.

The lies of depression can exist only in isolation. Brought out into the open, lies are revealed for what they are.

Here is the truth: You have value. You have worth. You are loved. Trust the voices of those who love you. Trust the enormous chorus of voices that say only one thing: You matter. Depression lies. We must tell the truth.

There is a thick black line that separates the before and the after of my life: I'm still new to the after territory. It feels uncertain, disorienting — like walking through a carnival funhouse where the floor is uneven, rotating, slanted, curved.

I know only two things for sure: Depression lies. I will tell the truth. Join me.

Here is the original obituary:

ALETHA MEYER PINNOW

Aletha Meyer Pinnow, 31, of Duluth, formerly of Oswego and Chicago, Ill., died from depression and suicide on Feb. 20, 2016.

Aletha was born on Dec. 29, 1984 to Bonnie and Bryce Pinnow.

The parents promised a tiny baby to their older daughter (who was sorely disappointed by the giant 11 pound baby that came home with them). This was an auspicious start for Aletha, who spent her life defying expectations and charting her own hilarious and unique path.

She loved animals, theater, Halloween, Star Wars, cartoons, preparing food for loved ones, and cuddling with aforementioned animals. She did not love France (they know why) and William Shatner (who also presumably knew why). Aletha was fond of making her mom laugh until she literally cried and helping her dad do anything and everything. It is impossible to sum up a woman so caring, genuine, vivacious, hilarious, and sparkly. Those qualities were so obvious to everyone around her. Aletha was her family's whole entire world. She enriched the lives of countless colleagues and students. Unfortunately, a battle with depression made her innate glow invisible to her and she could not see how desperately loved and valued she was.

Aletha found her true passion in fifth grade when she decided to become a special education teacher. She graduated high school a year early to enroll in her future alma mater, Northern Illinois University (NIU), in anticipation of that goal. It is the ultimate understatement to say that Aletha loved working with people with disabilities (especially people on the autism spectrum). She was a special education teacher for over a decade and she was, as she was happy to tell you, awesome at it. She saw the potential and value of every single one of her students and she loved them with a ferocity that would make a rabid mother bear quiver.

If the family were to have a big pie in the sky dream, we would ask for a community-wide discussion about mental health and to pull the suffocating demon of depression and suicide into the bright light of day. Please help us break the destructive silence and stigma surrounding mental illness and suicide.

Aletha was preceded in death by her adoring grandparents: Barb and Dave Ashby and Orla and Don Pinnow.

Aletha is survived by her parents, Bonnie (Momster) and Bryce (Dadzilla) Pinnow; sister/seestar, Eleni (Smelly) Pinnow (Steve Rosenberg), and BFF Sara Clark. Aletha is also survived by an uncle, Mark (Casey) Ashby; aunt Charla (Doug) Antrobus; aunt Theresa "TT" Ashby; cousins Stacy (Igor) Zapadinsky, Leslie Antrobus, David (Dorothy) Ashby, Phil (Lauren) Ashby, and Steve (Maris) Ashby. Countless heartbroken friends mourn Aletha with her family. Aletha also leaves behind her devoted pitbull, Asta Louise, and two cats, Fido and Ralphie. Because Aletha was so dedicated to her vocation as a special education teacher, she also is survived by hundreds of students whose lives are immeasurably better because of her, and by colleagues in Wheaton, Chicago, and Duluth.

The family would also appreciate if friends and colleagues would share memories and photos of Aletha with themthis would provide us comfort as we find our way without her.

 

[glynis]

Thank you for sharing this link....lots of love glynis

 

[valeri]

So very sad!
We can only hope that more people would follow an example of this brave sister who isn't ashamed to openly talk about it.

Another murder suicide here in Australia yesterday, mother killed her 2 year old boy then herself, suffered from PTSD due to domestic violence