Here we are again on my least favourite, quippy-acronym day of senseless tokenism. I mean, RUOK Day? We can’t even spell it correctly. It might make it too real. A day of corporate yellowness and box ticking, self-congratulatory, fake altruism and empathy.
Actually, in fairness, I must concede to the fact RUOK Day has raised the public awareness around suicide and made it less uncomfortable to talk about for many people. However, it still grinds my gears suggesting all we need is someone to ask if we are ok to enable us to pick ourselves out of our depression and get on with it. But, I guess we have to start the conversation somewhere.
As many of you will know, I am currently writing a book about my late husband, Michael’s suicide. My understanding of his suicide has changed considerably since I began writing. My attitude towards personal responsibility and life choices has also changed.
Life is different for every person. Some people are sensitive. I heard it described beautifully today by poet Maggie Smith. She said some peoples’ nerves are closer to the surface. For other people, life is a series of painful and traumatic days, full of inescapable sorrow and torment. Tortuous memories and unchangeable facts. Untenable situations. Perpetual illness. What must it be like to live in this daily terror and pain, with no reprieve and no hope. I can’t imagine.
RUOK Day is subject to hope and optimism. The people to whom it is reaching out must have a desire to engage and the potential to heal or be cured. The state and condition of helplessness must be resolvable. It must be transitory. I have often heard it said that suicide is a permanent solution to an impermanent problem. But what if the problem is not one that will improve over time? What if the problem is one that will deteriorate over time. Something that has no ‘hope’ of improvement.
Medically assisted suicide or voluntary assisted dying is something most people are somewhat comfortable with. When a person has a terminal illness, this choice gives them agency over their own death. It gives some control where there has been none. Why is voluntary suicide for mental health looked at so differently? Perhaps the choice of ending a life, a choice that I am absolutely sure is a very difficult one to make, should be respected.
It has taken me 10 years to come to a level of acceptance whereby I would not wish Michael to be living, if it would be too painful for him to do so. Not for my own or my kids benefit. I acknowledge his struggle and now accept his choice with respect that it was his choice to make. Of course it has been unbearably painful. The sadness has been life changing. But to live life with someone who doesn’t want to be here would be harder. For everyone.
Suicide should not attach a sense of shame to the person who has died, the person who has attempted to take their life, or to the people around that person. Maybe, not being ok really is ok. Maybe, not being judgemental and measuring everyone else’s experiences against our own is not ok?
If you or anyone you know needs to talk to someone, LIFELINE is only a call away, 13 11 14.
Kylie Eklund-Denman 
Yes, this I believe to be true.