In 5 days, it will be one month since Bonnie died by suicide. Bonnie was a beautiful soul with a wonderful personality and a constant smile to match. Bonnie was/is my daughter’s second mom, the mother of her 3-year boyfriend, 19-year old Dylan. She also left behind her husband of 25 years this month and a beautiful daughter who will be 13 also this month. Bonnie and her husband, Chris, had such an ideal marriage, like the real deal soulmate relationship. I’ve longed for that, and now that cliche saying is in my head, “It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” I’m unable to buy into that sentiment as I see Chris so heavy with grief that he can barely continue living in the same home that they bought together. Dylan is managing, and I’m not sure how he’s seemingly doing so well. He’s not happy, but he does not discuss it, nor does he cry. He may become quiet or irritable, but I think he may have taken on a stronger role to support his father, sister, and my daughter, Bailey. His baby sister appears to be fine, but it’s certainly a facade. My daughter told me today that she was surprised I was not awakened by her crying as grief struck her very hard. She was watching Chris’s Facebook posts with one song after another after another about his wife as he was heavily grieving last night as well. I’m shocked at my grief because I did not realize how much I genuinely cared for Bonnie as a friend, and I’m feeling the grief of the whole family while watching the vision of the future without her unfold as I knew it would. Interestingly, the only being behaviorally telling the truth is Bonnie’s dog, Porkchop. He is visibly depressed, not playing like he used to, laying around the house, and finally sleeps better with her sweatshirt in his little doggie bed. It’s interesting how people fight to hide their grief and Porkchop is unable to do so.

From what I’ve gathered, Bonnie was known as a “worrier”, and she worried about the slightest things on a constant basis. In learning more and more about how often she worried and the issues that concerned her, I would have unofficially diagnosed her with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which appeared to overwhelm her in the end to become Major Depressive Disorder. Let me be clear that I am not applying a diagnosis since I do not have the entirety of the information, and would have clearly pointed her in the direction of a professional other than myself. So let me label these statements as a very unofficial psychological autopsy.

Bonnie knew at one point that she “had to do something” and from what I understand, she stated she was “hitting rock bottom” when she was unable to get out of bed until late in the afternoon one day. She “took a pill” from a family member that she said she “guessed” made her feel better, yet she took no further steps to seek help. Bonnie clearly and repeatedly stated that she did not want to “depend on a pill to make her happy.” Clearly, mental illness stigma is alive and well in our society and those thoughts ruled her thoughts and subsequently lethal behavior of ending her life. We certainly do not want to die from diabetes or high blood pressure, so those medications are acceptable to discuss with others. Cancer treatment? No problem! Got a headache? We definitely have something on hand at all times for that problem. Got the blues?… End of conversation…

I’ve had some brief moments of grief at work with my supervisor who is an awesome listener. He made a simple but incredibly true statement that we have discovered genetically transmitted mental health problems, which makes them a medical issue requiring medication or therapy. It is far past due that we view mental illness from the same medical perspective that we view physical health problems, and address psychological issues in the same fashion with medication or therapy as needed. We are also quick to prescribe physical therapy, so let’s equally be prepared to prescribe psychiatric or psychological therapy. Bipolar Disorder, for example, is hereditary and medication is required to control the cycling mood symptoms. Like diabetes or high blood pressure, one can also die have uncontrolled Bipolar Disorder, via intentional/unintentional drug overdose or suicide. Major Depressive Disorder, when uncontrolled, also requires medication and is also genetically transmitted. Schizophrenia is clearly genetically transmitted and absolutely requires psychiatric medication. In Bonnie’s case, it is also possible that her anxiety and depression disorders were genetically based, and she died because her conditions were not treated and controlled appropriately with medication. Does it really matter what the diagnosis is? Illness is illness, and physical and mental illness need to be viewed as the same requiring treatment of some sort. They are synonymous and we need to begin viewing them as such. Even in thinking about chronic pain, it is worse with depression and often synonymous as well. People with chronic pain often experience severe depression, but medication and therapy together, active coping rather than passively doing nothing about them, improves both pain and depression.

The point of this article multipurpose. For one, we need to remove the stigma of mental illness. For two, we need to view mental illness as equal to physical illness because issues in both areas require professional treatment. For a third reason, we need to recognize the medical component as genetically transmitted diseases with no differences between psychological or physical issues. Hopefully, if we change our views from more than one perspective, more assistance may be available. And no one else has to die from mental illness shame.