In my upcoming memoir, I mention a scene from the movie Christine that’s seared into my mind.
A woman who, in a shocking and heartbreaking moment, blew her brains out on live television. That scene was raw and disturbing, and in many ways, it marked me. It left an imprint on my psyche, a reminder of how despair can drive people to do unimaginable things to those of us who haven’t walked that path.
The reason it stayed with me, though, wasn’t just because of the shock or the tragedy—it stayed with me because I understood the despair she must’ve felt—the sense of feeling trapped, hopeless, and completely overwhelmed by life’s challenges. Depression can be that all-encompassing. It can feel like a prison that closes in until you can’t see any way out. And, tragically, for Christine, that’s what it felt like for her—there was no escape, no hope.
That understanding hit me in a personal way after my friend Mark committed suicide a few years ago. Mark was someone I had known for a long time—som…
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