Some days, I would give anything to be rid of my little spark of madness. Others, I'm grateful for it. Some days, I want to bang my head against a wall in frustration at the fact that a change in attitude towards mental illness is happening so painfully slowly. Then there are days like today when there are so many mixed feelings - a pang of sadness that someone else has thought suicide was the only option, recognition for what he must have been feeling, relief that I didn't go down that road, fear that I may someday feel that badly again, hope that the lid is being further lifted on a difficult conversation, frustration that for the next couple of days it will be ok to admit to having depression or another mental illness, but once the dust settles, the cloak of silence will come back down and once more, mental health, or lack thereof, will be off the agenda.
There's a depression bandwagon rolling today. I appreciate the irony of my lamenting that fact while at the same time writing about it, but it's what's on my mind. The difference for me though, as well as the countless others who have experienced mental illness, is that our issues won't stop when the media looks away. Our need for help won't go away just because it's not the subject of the moment. This is a conversation that needs to continue, long term.