Happy Ashton! ~ 4 years old

As an introduction, I feel like I need to say this: if you or someone you love is at risk for suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255). There are several websites that look helpful, as well. Here is the link to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention: http://www.afsp.org/

Now for the post:

My sister, Wendy, suggested that we do all we could to help Ashton feel our love for him. At her suggestion, we found a photograph of him when he was still happy – as a little boy. Faye put that up in a location that would not be readily visible to Ashton but that we could see and remember and visualize the time when he was happy; we wanted to think that that happy boy was still inside Ashton – somewhere. Wendy also suggested that we write “love notes” to Ashton, expressing our love and confidence in him. I started doing that daily on about January 1. I left them on his pillow. The next morning, they would be on the desk next to his bed. I think he read them, but I don’t think his “broken mind” could believe them.

Ashton would always attend at least Sacrament Meeting, the first meeting in the Sunday schedule. He would get up and go without “goading” by us. I think he REALLY wanted to go to his meetings. He would take a separate vehicle so he could come and go as he felt able. He would often come into the meeting after the sacrament (communion with bread and water to remind us of Christ’s Atoning Sacrifice). I wonder if – because of his delusions – he didn’t feel “worthy” to partake of the sacrament? He would often go home during the second or third hour of the block; I think the anxiety of talking to people and the delusions that others were talking about him was too much for him. It was difficult for him when people would ask him how he was doing and what his plans were for the future. I don’t think he could see himself ever feeling differently than he did at that time – full of anxiety and delusions. His bishop (pastor) met with him regularly. Bishop encouraged Ashton to speak in our congregation about his mission and tried to help Ashton understand that he had completed an honorable mission. I don’t think Ashton was able to accept that.

On the Sunday before Ashton’s death, one of the bishop’s counselors (assistants) came by to extend a calling to Ashton to serve as a counselor in the Sunday School organization. That calling was recommended by the Sunday School president, a good and kind friend who has family members who have struggled with mental illness, but didn’t know that Ashton did. Ashton told the bishop’s counselor that he would think about it. During the third hour of the Sunday block, we discussed a topic was selected by the stake (an ecclesiastical unit consisting of several congregations) leaders several months prior and was “Like a Broken Vessel” by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (see Footnote 1). It is about having compassion for those (including ourselves) who struggle with depression. I commented that Ashton struggled with depression and that it’s OK to ask if a person is suicidal; it’s not going to “plant” those ideas in their mind. They are almost certainly already there. I became emotional during my comments and felt the love and support of several men in the group after the meeting. Little did I know that two days later, Ashton would die of suicide. I choose to believe that God was helping the members of the stake — especially our own ward (congregation) — prepare for Ashton’s suicide by having this topic discussed just two days beforehand.

Ashton died on Tuesday, January 28, 2014. On New Year’s Day, Jordan, Rubi, Faye, Ashton and I all wrote goals on what we’d like to accomplish over the next five years. We’ve been doing that every five years for the past 15 years and putting them into a “family time capsule” in our storeroom. Ashton was often unable to do things like that because it took too much emotional energy for him. This time, however, he wrote and wrote without encouragement and with very little hesitation. I was encouraged. The next day, I peeked at what he wrote and there were some very ambitious goals: get married, have children, attend college, etc. At the end of his list was a paragraph written in Fijian. I thought he was being sentimental and writing in his mission language. However, on the day he died, we asked a friend in the community who also served in Fiji to come over and interpret what he had written: it was a suicide note. I don’t know how long he had been planning to take his life, but it was for at least three weeks. Ashton was an honest young man. When I mentioned this incongruence to a new friend: Ashton’s honesty with his not telling me that he was suicidal when I asked him, this friend said that Ashton probably couldn’t tell me because he loved me too much and didn’t want to hurt me. To me, that is an example of how a “broken mind” thinks: Ashton didn’t want to hurt me by telling me that he was suicidal…but his mental anguish must have been so overwhelming that that was the only way that he could see out of it.

On the day Ashton died, Ashton’s psychiatrist called me: he can often see a suicide coming. With Ashton’s, he was totally blindsided; he saw no signs that that was in Ashton’s plans. A few weeks after Ashton’s death, we met personally with Ashton’s psychiatrist: Was the diagnosis correct? Could he have been bipolar? Is that why none of the medications helped? His response was that bipolar can be very difficult to diagnose. He had asked Ashton about episodes of mania (periods of exaggerated moods, thoughts and energy – see Footnote 2), but Ashton had consistently said “No.” Might there have been a period that neither Ashton nor anyone else recognized? Possibly. In the psychiatrist’s mind, however, Ashton had died of depression, much like others die of accidents or cancer or heart attacks. Another retired physician, mentor and good friend reminded me that, as physicians, we can do all the right things at the right time, but sometimes the infection or tumor or trauma is too overwhelming for our treatments and some people still die. In Ashton’s case, everything that COULD be done WAS done – but it was still too overwhelming for him. Another person that we didn’t even know wrote in a sympathy card something that was very kind and comforting: “I’m sure Ashton did the best he could.” I choose to believe that.

So…is there something that Carter and Faye (or anyone else, including Ashton) should have done or shouldn’t have done that might have prevented Ashton’s suicide? Let me answer this way: two days before Ashton’s death, Faye and I were talking as a follow-up to the “Like a Broken Vessel” lesson in church. We both felt that we had done everything we could to help Ashton. We couldn’t think of anything else we could have done. I’m comfortable leaving any judgment on this matter to God.

In medicine, there is a phenomenon called “blame the victim.” I think it’s a defense mechanism by which those in the medical field attempt to emotionally insulate themselves from disease and other bad outcomes. For example, in an emergency room setting, it’s often the female caregivers who are least compassionate to a female rape victim. The caregivers’ attitude is, “If she hadn’t been doing/wearing/saying/with ____, she wouldn’t have been raped.” By extension, the female caregivers think, “If I don’t do/wear/say/be with ___, I won’t be raped.” Is it possible that some rapes happen regardless of the victim doing all the “right” things? Is it possible that some suicides will happen regardless of everyone (including the victim) doing all the “right” things? My answer to these questions is “yes,” unfortunately. Yes, sometimes bad things happen to good people who are doing all the “right” things.

Is there a stereotype for someone who is at risk for suicide? Are quiet people (like Ashton) at risk? Are religious people (like Ashton) at risk? I honestly don’t know. For example, I don’t know how religious Robin Williams was and how quiet he was in his private life, but his public persona was certainly not “quiet.” I don’t know if there IS a stereotype. One common denominator is that the victims have lost hope. So…how do you know who has lost hope? I don’t know. The further I get into this “Grieving with God’s Guidance,” the more convinced I am of how important it is to just be nice. As Elder Holland said, “While God is making those repairs, the rest of can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental and kind.” (See Footnote 3). None of us really knows the anguish anyone else is going through. Perhaps unkind people are the ones who need our kindness the most.

Ashton shot himself in the heart with a shotgun we had in our shed. I expressed to my brother some regret for having a gun. He wisely said, “With Ashton’s mental illness and determination to complete suicide, if you didn’t have a gun, you would be regretting having an extension cord or belt or car exhaust or…or…” I think he’s right.

A related question: what can YOU do to prevent suicide in your loved ones? I wish I had a better answer than this: There are some things that are just not in your control. Some suicides are going to happen even when everyone is doing the right things. Do the best you can. Ask God for His help – and leave the rest to Him.

This has been helpful for me to write. I hope it’s helpful for some of you. If you have stayed with me this far, it probably has been. I ask you to consider sharing, liking or commenting.

Written by Carter

Footnotes:

1. https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng
2. http://psychcentral.com/disorders/manic-episode/
3. https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang