“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I’ve touched on the statistics surrounding this issue in a past post, but now I feel the need to express myself on how it makes me feel on a deeper, more personal level.
Suicide is a very serious and polarizing topic for many. It almost seems that some people make a conscious decision to avoid the issue. It’s something that takes a lot of people out of their comfort zone. No matter, it’s a reality that needs to be able to be addressed.
This applies to those with bipolar disorder ten-fold. The stats are frightening, and the illness is already scary enough.
According to the National Alliance of Mental Illness, 19% of those with the disorder will commit suicide and at least 50% will attempt suicide at least once in their lifetime. I don’t mean to belabor the point with numbers, but I am deeply bothered by these statistics on a personal level.
There are approximately 5.7 million people in the United States with bipolar disorder, and 19% of those afflicted with the illness will “successfully” commit suicide. 1.14 million people out of 5.7 million people will eventually commit suicide. 3.42 million people out of 5.7 million people will attempt suicide at least once. If those numbers don’t shock or affect you in some way, then all hope for us may be lost.
There are many negative aspects of having bipolar disorder, but only a few that I take seriously anymore and this one of them.
I am shocked and baffled by the numbers. Not because I don’t understand where people with this illness are coming from. I am extremely saddened for my fellow man.
I am shocked. And I am confused as to why there is such a stigma around this disorder and mental health in general when we have these kind of numbers.
In 2019, approximately 12,000 people with bipolar disorder committed suicide, and between and 3 % – 14% of all suicides are committed by people with this specific mood disorder. It’s frightening to the point of almost being unbelievable.
I know that stating these facts is like beating a dead horse, and if that’s the case, well, I say beat away.
The idea of committing suicide is not something I’ve had to deal with on a serious kind of level so it feels like I’m on the outside looking in most of the time. I do have my moments, but I’m more of a spectator than a spectacle.
I could go on and on about how upsetting it is to know the reality of this specific aspect of having bipolar disorder, but I’m getting upset just trying to explain how upsetting these facts are to me.
Maybe one day things will be different, but I think as long as there isn’t a more consistent and manageable treatment plan for all these numbers will only rise. It’s hard to accept that, in some ways, I too am a statistic. However, I am not my diagnosis and I work hard to continue to believe that.
No matter how upset I can get over the facts, I’m not so unstable and fragilethat the issue cannot be addressed.