I didn’t know Charlotte Dawson. I knew who she was, of course, but I didn’t know her. She was a model and a television presenter and because of her resulting public profile I know a few things about her. I know she suffered from depression and I know she abhorred bullying. I know that in 2012 she attempted to take her life after a battle with online trolls. I know that on Saturday, in Sydney, she took her life.
I know that it is a tragedy. And I know that in the face of tragedy it is tempting to make sense of it. To get to the bottom of it. To find reason.
When someone takes their life – whether it is someone you know and love or someone you have only ever seen on TV – it is impossible not to wonder how it could have been prevented. To think if only someone had made a phone-call or been there to step in, it might have been prevented.
From the outside, looking in, suicide is never the answer. But we know from the inside, under the murk of mental illness, looking out, sometimes, it seems it is.
A person’s decision to end their own life is not one that can be viewed through the prism of rational thought. It is impossible to fathom as a logical choice. Because it’s not.
It is the resolution when someone feels there is no resolution. In that moment, they can’t see beyond the torment and torture of their illness. In that moment, for them, an alternative is impossible to imagine. To everyone else, the only impossible, unimaginable scenario is the very one they carry out.
For those of us whose mental health is not compromised, there are so many options. But for anyone without that blessing, their suffering blinds their options. The more severe their suffering, the fewer alternatives they see.
The chasm that exists between mental health and mental illness cannot always be overcome easily. Pretending, however well-intentioned, that it can ultimately does a great disservice to all of us. Even thinking, in the quiet corners of our own minds, that it can be easily overcome dismisses the enormity and reality of mental illness.
Anyone who has ever been caught up in its wretched web – personally, professionally or vicariously – can tell you that treating it, let alone beating it, is not straightforward. Treating mental illness requires a relentless and aggressive war to be waged on many fronts.
Education, medication, professional help and support are all important components in keeping the black dog, or its various close relatives, at bay. But none of these things on their own is necessarily enough to guarantee success.
Being kind to one another is always, always, a worthwhile endeavour. But being kind is not necessarily enough to unshackle someone from the depths of their despair. Trying to mend someone’s broken and vulnerable psyche with kindness is like trying to put out a raging bushfire with a bucket of water – it won’t do any harm but it’ll be hard to contain the blaze.
It’s important to recognise that. Not just to ease the inevitable anguish that everyone will endure after the worst has happened to someone they love. But also because if we want to confront mental illness – to alleviate the toll it takes on individuals, families and society in any meaningful way – first we need to understand it.
It is human nature, I think, to hope, or assume, there is a simple way to avoid something as awful as suicide. It is terrifying to accept the alternative.
But mental illness is a complicated, complex and wicked beast; there is no one-size fits all solution and suicide is a symptom of that.
I didn’t know Charlotte Dawson but I do know that nothing about mental illness or depression is as simple as we’d like. Her death is a tragic reminder of that.
Support is available for anyone who may be distressed by phoning Lifeline 13 11 14; Mensline 1300 789 978; Kids Helpline 1800 551 800.