Some Censorship is Good Censorship: Why Suicide Jokes Aren't Funny
If there's one thing I know, it's that people HATE censorship and LOVE free speech. The courts will allow people to protest at funerals in the name of free speech. They'll let the KKK burn crosses in people's yards in the name of free speech. I get it. It's really important for people to be allowed to say what they want to say. Because America.
But something has recently caught my eye, and I feel it's time to speak up and exercise my own right to free speech. Recently, a cartoon has been floating around, it looks like this:
I've seen this on a whole bunch of people's pages. From professionals working 80 hour workweeks, to students preparing for finals. And I get it: you're TIRED, and the punch line is supposed to be that you're only going to get rest if you commit suicide. But what message is that sending?
It's storytime, kids. It's a story I feel I need to tell. And if I lose opportunities or friends because of it, so be it.
I have a very distinct memory of a time when I was 11. I was in theater classes, and I remember feeling very very sad. I remember taking my mom's bottle of Tylenol and locking myself in one of the bathroom stalls. I remember seriously considering taking the entire bottle of pills, because I was sad. I didn't fully understand then, but that was my first suicidal thought. I'd have some other bad days, but I'd never act on my thoughts. I would always be able to stop myself. I figured everyone felt sad sometimes, I'm no different from everyone else. But I was wrong.
In November of 2013, I was in a very bad place in my life. I didn't pass the bar, I lost my dream job, I didn't have a significant other. I felt very very sad. But instead of crying, or raging, or going outside to try and cheer myself up, I took a bottle of Tylenol and brought it to my bedroom. I took one pill. Then I took another. And another. Then I decided to wash the next one down with vodka. I did this until I was out of pills, and I moved to a different bottle. I couldn't stop. I wrote a note. I was done. Thank god a friend found me, because if he hadn't, I'd be dead.
My friends urged me to go seek professional help, and I did. But I'm not cured of my depression. I still have those thoughts and urges every day. With help, you can learn to fight the thoughts. You can learn to live your life, and love the people around you and love yourself because there's only one you in the universe.
My story? It's not funny. It's serious, and sad, and important. And it's a story I share with a lot of other people. Suicide isn't funny. It's the second leading cause of death among people aged 10 - 24, and the third leading cause of death for college-aged youth. When you make a joke about suicide, you make it that much harder to talk about, you make it that much easier to bury the thoughts and feelings of someone with depression until they explode. You may not mean to do that, and you may not see it the way I do, but try to put yourself in my shoes. Pretend that my story is your story. Then see if it's funny. If it isn't, maybe you should think twice about posting.
"But Katie," you say to the computer screen, "that's censorship! You can't tell me what to say or post!" And you're right, I can't tell you what to post. I can't always take jokes personally. But I certainly have the right to say something about how insensitive your post can be, and to think it's not funny. Does that make me a stick in the mud? Sure. But if you knew what it felt like to want to die, with every fiber of your being, and if you knew what it felt like to not be able to get out of bed because you're depressed or suicidal, maybe you'd be a stick in the mud about it too.
Freedom of Speech works both ways, and maybe a little self-censorship isn't so bad if it means creating a meaningful dialogue about suicide and depression. Instead of laughing about things like this, let's take Depression seriously. Maybe it can save a life.
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