“Are you okay?”
“No.”
How often do you hear those words? Have you ever heard
someone say, “No. You know what? I’m not okay.” Our standard response when
someone asks, regardless of whether or not it’s true, is, “I’m okay.”
Jay Asher wrote a book. It was later turned into a Netflix series,
Thirteen Reasons Why. I just finished
watching the story, and I have to say I’m unsettled. I’ve heard so many people
talk about both the show and the book, and they usually say things like, “I
refuse to watch it because it glamorizes suicide,” or, “I refuse to watch
another teenage drama that glorifies high school crap.” And then I hear people
talk about it who watched it all the way to the very last scene, and they
usually have a different take on it. For me, my reaction was nausea, and—no,
that was my reaction. Nausea. I literally felt sick at my stomach.
Why? Because I watched this very uncomfortable show and
managed to fight the tempting urge to dismiss it and gritted my teeth long
enough to get through it. It’s a story about a teenage girl who experienced
bullying at school, the subsequent embarrassment and feelings of isolation, and
eventually despair. Her pain spiked when she was assaulted by a fellow
classmate, but finalized when the people she turned to for help didn’t hear
what she was trying to tell them. She came from an ordinary home, with ordinary
parents who loved her and supported her. Sure, they had their life struggles,
but their daughter was a priority for them. Hannah made good decisions about boys
and drugs. She didn’t sleep around. Only once did I notice her consuming
alcohol, and that was in response to the pain of not fitting in and the desire
to do so. She didn’t sneak around and get into trouble. She was a good kid.
But, once she became the target of some boys at school (and their girlfriends),
she fell into despair and ended her life.
Sure, there are elements in the TV show that are overly
dramatized and likely exaggerated, but I think this story accurately reflects
what our teens face in school. Every day. Without end. Within the social
structure of an average school, you will find just about every type of kid
represented in this story. The “cool kids” are desperate to remain cool, so
they have their own form of bullying. The nerds are relentlessly harassed, both
physically and emotionally. And everything in between. Girls face judgement from
girls. Boys face judgment from boys. And they all judge each other. There are
few, if any, safe places where teens can go for help or safety.
Recently, I attended a service for a fifteen-year-old boy
who shot himself in the head after watching Thirteen
Reasons Why. I seriously doubt the show caused him to commit suicide. No,
pain caused him to commit suicide. In his life, whatever pain he was
experiencing was so overwhelming that he felt he had no other options. When
someone is depressed, his or her brain becomes unhealthy, and doesn’t process
serotonin properly, which alters how a person reacts to crisis and pain. It’s
as if that person has tunnel vision. No! It’s more like that person is looking
through a straw. They can only see one solution, and they truly believe they
are making the only choice possible. Killing themselves will end the pain. And
everyone will be better off without them.
I know. I know! This doesn’t make sense to you, whose brain
is processing serotonin properly. But to many people in pain, suicide is like a
bell that rings with perfect clarity.
Let me make this a little more personal. I have a fourteen
year old at home. You think I haven’t had this on my mind all week? I’ve had
little else. I don’t know the circumstances in the other boy’s life which
caused him to see suicide as his only option. And I wish I did. He sent a text
message to his sister saying goodbye in the last seconds before his killed
himself. She found him at home just a few minutes later. They don’t know why.
They never saw it coming.
Hannah was a smart, fun, and pretty girl who smiled and
laughed, and rarely allowed her pain to show. In fact, no one saw it coming. NO
ONE! Only after Hannah revealed her reasons, the thirteen reasons, did the
pieces come together. And in hindsight, it was painfully obvious. But only if
you have all the pieces laid out before you. Each smaller piece didn’t tell
enough of the story to see what was happening in her head.
Parents, your children are watching this show. I don’t mean
to alarm you but—wait! Yes, I do mean to alarm you. WAKE UP! Your kids are
watching this show. And we all know that the young are incredible at recording
information, and the absolute worst at interpreting it. They very well may
watch this show and relate to the pain Hannah was experiencing, and feel
somewhat empowered by her courage to kill herself. Because they are looking
through a straw and can’t see the big picture.
Okay, you’ve heard me. Now what? Well, I recommend you watch
the show. All the episodes. Watch them by yourself first. And then invite your
teen to watch it with you. And then talk to them about it. Have the suicide
talk. You can do this!
Don’t accept the “I’m fine,” robot response. Hannah mentions
how she stormed out of the school counselor’s office and paused just out of
sight, praying that he would come after her, but he didn’t. And with that final
element of disappointment, she followed through with slitting her wrists.
Seriously. You can do this. You can talk to your kids about
suicide. They won’t enjoy it. Neither will you. But you might be surprised by
what you talk about once you get the ball rolling.
One final thought about Thirteen
Reasons Why, the Netflix series: I was praying the show would end, and the
entire staff would come back on and do an anti-suicide talk, and recommend
seeking help, but it didn’t happen. The show ended and went straight to the
credits. This is a hard fail, Netflix. And it’s unacceptable.
