Madigan: They didn’t flatter you with that lighting.

David Oaks: You’re looking so handsome! I had no idea. Your eyebrows are very sexy. (I’m completely sincere.)

“But critics worry …” That’s journalism-speak for “We don’t have any specific sources who say this, but we’ll generalize it so we have reason to focus on …”

… violence. That’s what they’re focusing on. Why am I not surprised?

So of all the things they could talk about related to Mad Pride — and related to mental health — this is what they’ve come up with: criminals and violent crime. Ugh. TV is so predictable and depressing.

Okay, so now we’re telling the story of a kid with hallucinations and delusions (the CIA, yadda yadda) who KILLS HIS MOTHER? Does the average American viewer understand how fucking rare this kind of thing is? That it’s not the necessary result of deciding not to take meds?

On to the withdrawal story: Clearly, the program wasn’t looking for a success story. This poor woman who decided to do the show so they could feed off her misery — I knew that’s what they wanted. Is she doing the withdrawal in conjunction with a doctor? Who the hell knows? The show doesn’t tell you. It hardly tells you her name. And …

Oh! There it is again: “Critics worry … ” (that she’s going to be “a time bomb” without her meds). Who are these critics worrying about this girl? Frank Rich? David Denby? I’d love to know.

“Violence is unpredictable with or without drugs.” Brilliant script.

Blurry homeless images. Madigan cello-ing. … This show is so bad, it’s like a joke. I guess it all goes back to what producer Ia Robinson told me, when we discussed my being on the show: She doesn’t have any friends or family who have mental problems, so the whole topic was like “walking on the moon.” Yes, that’s the phrase she used. The show should’ve been blasted out to Mars.

Except Joey P. He’s delightful and a voice of reason.

Cecilia Casals, 43, went to the Mall of the Americas in Miami, where her daughter worked, and set herself on fire. She was ablaze for about two and a half minutes, during which she reportedly walked slowly without making a sound. The flames were doused by firefighters and she was rushed to a hospital. But yesterday she died.

According to news reports, she had a criminal history, mental illness and had been desperately trying to get psychiatric help, to no avail.

The very sensitive NBCMiami.com features the headline: “‘Human Torch’ Dies After Mall Blaze.” Is that a class act or what?

The real class act is John Torres who, rather than breaking out his cell phone, injured himself trying to help her.

The head of the Roman Catholic Church in England is warning that Facebook, texting and e-mails are destroying relationships and may even lead teens to commit suicide.

Archbishop Vincent Nichols, head of the Westminster diocese and spokesman for the Roman Catholic Church in England and Wales, voiced his concerns about e-mail and social networks in an interview with England’s The Sunday Telegraph.

…

Nichols also said online social networks, such as Facebook and MySpace, are eroding children’s and teenagers’ real-life social networks.

“Facebook and MySpace might contribute towards communities, but I’m wary about it. It’s not rounded communication so it won’t build a rounded community,” he added in the interview. “If we mean by community a genuine growing together and a mutual sharing in an interest that is of some significance then it needs more than Facebook.”

These weakened relationships, the archbishop said, can lead to suicide.

“Among young people often a key factor in them committing suicide is the trauma of transient relationships,” Nichols said. “It’s an all or nothing syndrome that you have to have in an attempt to shore up an identity; a collection of friends about whom you can talk and even boast. But friendship is not a commodity, friendship is something that is hard work and enduring when it’s right.”

Archbishop: Facebook can lead to teen suicide

Facebook and MySpace can lead children to commit suicide, warns Archbishop Nichols

We’ll all miss Steven so much, and I’ll say more about that later. For now, I’m wishing the best to all family and friends who are hurting. That’s what Steven really cared about in the end, though he was very passionately annoyed by knitting, as well.

Steven was often told he was anti-American. I loved his passion, and he cracked us the fuck up every day. This video was part of a series he did for PW called Steven Wells’ America, in which he took sacred cows and basically grilled them for dinner. Below, he reflects on the religiosity of an America that voted for Bush a second time (Steven was a staunch atheist). Toward the end he smiles a bit, so you know that he knows he’s being ridiculous. And that’s part of what was so cute about Steven — he’d rant, but then laugh at himself.

I am just tired. Tired of feeling ill from my meds 24/7. Tired of being too sick to work. Tired of not having any money and applying for food stamps and subsidized housing.

Tired in the fact the one trip to the city I took since 07 cause I didn’t have the money to go= I get comped two tickets for “Next to Normal”, and it triggers every trigger I have in the universe. I haven’t been the same since i saw the play.

Other than underwear, I have not bought any new clothes since 07. I have not gone anywhere, unless you count Princeton and New Brunswick. I don’t.

Living in the burbs where it’s all families and young marrieds commuting into the city- it sucks, I should be in a city- any city somewhere. Not here. Please not here.

All I ever wanted from the time I graduated from college was to be a wife and mother. The ex said he wanted children, after we married I found out he didn’t. Hence the annullment. I would have never married him if he had told the truth.

All I have at this point of my life, are broken dreams. I don’t have any dreams now.

I spend my days popping pills to sleep 18 -20 hours a day so I can be as close to death as I can without actually being dead. I have a blog which got some awards but no one visits. All I know how to do is write. And I wonder if I can every really do that.

All I know, I just want to be somewhere else before my birthday. That’s it. I just don’t know how to get there.

The cat will be fine. AK or Peter will take care of her. I am not fine. I need a dream, or a dirt nap.

Now, team, this is your assignment: Go to Susan’s blog and leave her a comforting comment. We have all been where she is now, and it’s not a good place to be. And the idea that someone else could care for kitty Holly? Ridiculous. No one loves Holly or understands her like Susan.

My life would be so much less meaningful without Susan. She has supported me and encouraged me in dark times. She has been an admirer and friend. And yes, she’s a kick-ass writer. We love you, Susan!

… his body was found by a hotel maid at 10 a.m. Thursday morning

Can you imagine the trauma this woman suffered, seeing a man who’d used the curtain cord to string himself up in a gruesome fashion? She’ll never get that out of her head, especially since he’s an international celebrity. What do you say to your family, your children, when you get home. “Today was hard …” She’ll never be the same.

I think about that a lot when I’m suicidal: Who would find me? How would they live with that? There’s no one I would want to do that to.

David Carradine found dead in Thailand hotel

It’s hard to talk about, but you can go here to see his dad’s blog or read this BBC article (despite its gruesome headline).

Ex-Yankee Jim Leyritz threatened to commit suicide and voluntarily admitted himself—so says FOX Sports.

The background:

Leyritz is free on bail while awaiting trial on DUI manslaughter charges for the late 2007 death of a restaurant waitress Fredia Ann Veitch in a two-car crash that occurred after the former Yankee was celebrating his 44th birthday. Leyritz allegedly had a blood-alcohol content of .14 — well above the legal limit — several hours after the crash, while Veitch had a .18 alcohol level at the time of her death.

…

Davie police then went to Karri Leyritz’s home who told them that Jim Leyritz had blown into the Breathalyzer in an attempt to start his car, but the device indicated he had been drinking, Coyne said.

Karri told cops that Jim had not been drinking. Karri said Leyritz went out to the car a second time, and that when he tried the device that time it indicated he had not been drinking.

That is when Leyritz became upset because he knew the first result would be reported to authorities as a possible violation of his bail conditions, Karri told cops, according to Coyne.

“That caused him to be distraught,” Coyne said.

Karri then told cops that Leyritz said something to the effect that, “He might as well ‘end it’ if it’s too much trouble,” Coyne said.

I gotta say, I’m not feeling deep, deep sorrow for Leyritz right now. It’s hard for me to sympathize given stories like this one. He wasn’t even supposed to be driving, let alone drinking and driving. She was drinking and driving too, so there aren’t any winners here. But sometimes things get really, really simple. Let’s break it down:

If you are drunk, you cannot operate a motor vehicle.
If you are not drunk, you can operate a motor vehicle.

(Unless you’re my mom, in which case alcohol is immaterial. Joking!)

From the Henrico Citizen Online:

NASCAR driver Kevin Grubb, who was found dead in a northside motel yesterday, committed suicide, Henrico Police said today.

Grubb died from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head at the Alpine Motel in the 7000 block of Brook Road, according to Henrico Police Lt. Doug Perry.

A toxicology test was performed on Grubb’s body, but results could take six weeks, Perry said.

Grubb, 31 and a native of Mechanicsville, had been suspended indefinitely by NASCAR in 2006 following his second violation of the organization’s substance abuse policy.

Liz — For what it’s worth, thought you might find this interesting. Once again, the reaction to a high-profile suicide focuses solely on the life events that supposedly caused it. I’m not saying the job pressures didn’t play some role, maybe a very big one, in David Kellermann’s death. But the total focus on external events doesn’t exactly help anti-suicide efforts, especially given the percentage of suicide victims who suffer from mental disorders of one kind or another (I’ve seen numbers as high as 90 percent). Could the troubles at Freddie Mac have triggered an underlying mood disorder? Certainly. Could those troubles alone have led to this suicide? It’s possible, but it seems unlikely. Personally, I don’t necessarily mind some focus on his life’s problems, but I’d really like to see some mention of the possibility of underlying emotional problems. Why would this one person, among everyone dealing with this kind of recession-driven strain, kill himself, & leave a grieving family?

Freddie Mac CFO faced extraordinary pressures

I hear what this reader is saying, but I actually do think the stress can prompt an otherwise “healthy” person to “snap” — and I use these words advisedly because I know they can be misused. Here’s an interesting reflection on the issue by Stephanie Desmon and Scott Calvert of the Baltimore Sun:

As economic crisis goes on, financial fears can push some over the edge

Stigma watchers are not amused. In an open letter to Psycho Donuts, the National Stigma Clearinghouse’s Jean Arnold wrote:

In this bring-the-kids mecca of mega-calories, children can pose in a padded cell encased in a straitjacket. … What’s endearing about a straitjacket? Why do straitjackets, a symbol of force and humiliation, appeal to advertisers and product marketers? We can’t answer that question, but the National Stigma Clearinghouse archive shows straitjackets have been used as a marketing tool for many years. Twice in our experience, the marketers have tangled with Human Rights commissioners.

Although straitjackets are now mainly found on bondage websites and in S&M shops, for decades they caused death and suffering to untold thousands of mental institution inmates. Children are especially vulnerable, according to research by the Harvard Center for Risk Analysis in 1998, accounting for 25% of the deaths. That study brought calls for nationwide reform.

… Unlike other powerful symbols of oppression (a lynching noose for example), it is sad that psychiatric medications, straitjackets, and padded cells are still used to amuse the general public. We respectfully ask Psycho Donuts to rethink the theme of their new store.

That’s unlikely. In an article in the Silicon Valley Mercury News, the store’s owner is quoted:

“I think that the community out there has taken what we’re doing and has turned it into something that was never our intention. When we’re talking about Psycho Donuts, we’re not referring to people; we’re referring to doughnuts,” Zweigoron said. “Our intention in all of this was never to hurt anyone. It was simply as a fun type of thing, adding an interesting and unique twist to selling doughnuts.

“There’s a Psycho Mouse ride at Great America, and there’s El Pollo Loco. At what point do you cross the line?” … “I find that the community at large is not offended by what we’re doing.”

But NARSAD disagrees. Below, a letter to the owners from the esteemed organization:

The website also has really good games on it, like Asteroids, which I just wasted 15 minutes on, and a virtual Etch-a-Sketch. The gallery has “weird” art, which is a stupid idea, but some of the artists seem vaguely talented. I like this work called The Lonely Satellite by Nicolas Caesar.

Her daughter, who has also been her editor, felt a connection to Nicholas Hughes, Sylvia Plath’s son who recently killed himself. That’s what she’s pondering in her NYT essay. Her piece is lovely, and sad.

Below is a recording of Plath reading her poem about her son, Nick, who is missed not only by those who knew him, but by those — like Sexton — who did not.

To those who don’t have the illness, it’s almost inconceivable to imagine what it’s like: hallucinations, delusions, disordered thoughts — symptoms that make the sufferer seem almost invisible. They’re so removed from the world the cogent person knows and lives in, it’s hard to imagine there’s some emotion in there, some experience, that could connect with everyone else. But we all understand pain. And for whatever reason a tiny minority of those who suffer from the disease will deliberately end their lives.

Delaney Ruston’s father was one of those people. Maybe it’s because his illness forced him to live in such compromised circumstances. Maybe it’s because he was tired of fighting against the symptoms. It’s just heartbreaking. Maybe later I’ll understand better why this upset me so much.

Documenting a troubled mind

Below is a clip of Richard Ruston.

This is a tough time to think about giving to charity. But it’s precisely because the economic downturn is creating even greater challenges for people struggling with serious mental illness that SFSP’s work is so critical. … The organization provides 24/7 free telephone crisis counseling from trained volunteers. … Your dollars will play a vital role in supporting the basic operational costs that SFSP has to cover to keep the lines running for people in crisis.

To donate, click here.

How does this guy sleep at night?

Jesse Coltrane, hero of the new media century.

Again, R.I.P. Abraham Biggs.

I know people don’t like it much when I write about suicide, and I admit to a morbid fascination with the topic, perhaps because of my own problems with ideation. But I recently read about a group suicide that’s so puzzling, I can’t stop thinking about it. The case is closed now because there are no answers. From the L.A. Times:

Some time in early May, the exact date unknown, Margo and Grace, both 21; Fransuhi Kesisoglu, 72; and Manas, 58, committed suicide with Vicodin, sleeping pills and antidepressants, they said. Only Margrit did not have drugs in her system. As Manas lay unconscious from the overdose, she shot him in the chest. Then she put the gun into her mouth and fired.

That’s a mother, father, grandmother and two twin daughters. No, they weren’t part of a cult; they weren’t religious at all, in fact. Nor was there significant economic trouble the whole family was subject to, nor was anyone sick. It makes no sense. For other family members who struggle to understand, there are no answers:

“There’s just nothing there,” said Orange County Sheriff’s Det. Dan Salcedo, who has been trying to decipher the case since late May. “I’d like to find something, have something, some possible reason to give the family some closure.

“If there were any problems,” he said, “they certainly kept it to themselves.”

There was, however, one odd detail: the twin girls.

Margo and Grace were inseparable. Through elementary, middle and high school they dressed identically — in dark-colored turtlenecks with long sleeves and dark pants. Fellow students at Bernice Ayer Middle School said they were quiet, polite, sweet, smart — and strange. The girls told acquaintances they would be together for the rest of their lives.

Sometimes Manas would join them at school for lunch. In the afternoon, he often arrived 20 minutes before classes let out and waited to pick them up, students recalled.

When they were psych interns at a hospital for pre-med rotations, now in college, they still dressed identically, which I don’t think is the norm for adult twins.

Dr. Kai MacDonald compared them to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, the indistinguishable characters in William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.”

“It’s funny that certain people are so conjoined,” MacDonald said. “I guess I would consider them as something of a unit.”

But strange behavior — and not that strange, even — doesn’t explain why a whole family would decide to commit suicide. I’ve read every article I can find, and nothing else jumps out at me. And why do I care so much? I don’t know. It’s just that knowing the agony of the suicidal impulse, I can’t imagine what these five people were going through. The “house of horrors” model doesn’t apply to a home with corpses, but to a home with five people all thinking about wanting to die.