I was going to write a completely different kind of post when I sat down this afternoon. It was going to be your more run-of-the-mill social media or digital information.

But then I learned about Trey Pennington. Trey, although I didn’t know him in person, retweeted this blog and we interacted with me back and forth online, and was one of the top social media folks in the country. He took his life today after fighting depression, which I found out on Facebook.

This is not a post about Trey, per se; but this post is the story he has inspired me to share, and along with heeding the call of David Murray to not be afraid to talk about this tough subject.

“Mommy, Why Are You So Sad?”

It was a question I’d ask every once in awhile, because my mom wouldn’t go out and see the other moms at events. She didn’t didn’t go to the PTA conferences, never volunteered for much with school, and didn’t otherwise interact socially with people she didn’t know.

She was eventually ostracized by neighbors, and that turned into the ostracising of me until I reached the middle of high school. There must be something wrong at the house, “obviously.”

But instead of helping, people wrote nasty unsigned letters and left them (I know because I’d get  the mail and sometimes the envelope wouldn’t be sealed or there would be no envelope, and they fell out and I would read them). Or they would tell their kids outlandish stories and I’d hear, “My mom said that your mom…” which I’m sure were a combination of actual gossip and pre-teen bullying.

Of course, coming home after such incidents, I remember asking that question of “Mommy, why are you so sad?” and “Is there anything I can do?” And she’d answer that she just is and she’d try to be better.

I remember her very clearly, when I was 8, 9, 10 years old.. and sadly, her condition got much worse. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to ask any questions by the time I turned eleven.

She died in her sleep, best as anyone can tell, due to a heart attack caused by an overdose of anti-depressant drugs. Was never ruled a suicide, but frankly, as we had very little money and she had no insurance, there wasn’t much time spent on her so we’ll never know all the particulars.

And, 20+ years ago, a lot less was understood about all of this in the medical field, and also in the public.

I remember after she died, the class and parents of students I was in wrote me notes.. and I got a few really nice ones. Some, however, included messages like, “I’m glad she died. She wouldn’t talk to anyone anyway.”

There’s a definite stigma with depression, and those who are different. People tend to not understand that when someone has depression, it’s rare if ever they can just “snap” out of how they’re feeling. And I can guarantee you they don’t wanna feel depressed. But what they really need is not your chiding, not your exclusion, but a hug and a kind word.

It’s possible my mom would be here today if that love had happened, instead of reinforcing that negative overwhelming feeling as evidenced in her last writings about how she was pushed away by everyone and wished she could do something to make it stop.

Every single case is different, but being close to quite a few people in my life who deal with depression, sometimes what they really need is a dose of “love-ium” and understanding. It can help people, from my limited experience, with stopping depression turning into more drastic consequences, such as illicit drug use, alcoholism (a very common self-medicator), and destructive negative behavior to get attention.

So go forth and hand out love-ium this week in mass quantities. Help make it okay for people to share their stories. Maybe it’ll help someone else.

My prayers are with Trey, his family and loved ones this evening. If you have thoughts of suicide, reach out. There are resources to help.