"The Skeleton Twins" and Conversations About Suicide

 "It always starts like this

A harmless and simple thing to fix
Contagious and spreading quick
Like cracks in ice
Wholly claiming our lives
While we sleep"

- "Heaven Breaks", by Sleeping At Last


September 10th is National Suicide Day. The organization "To Write Love On Her Arms" encourages people to talk about depression, anxiety, loneliness, hopelessness; everything leading up to and surrounding suicide. This year, they led with  the message "We'll see you tomorrow". A simple statement, yet one burgeoning with hopeful confidence.

Early this year I watched the movie "The Skeleton Twins", a 2014 film which slipped quietly past the public eye. It's a comedy-drama about adult twins who are reunited after both attempting suicide on the same day. Obviously the difficult subject matter did not compel good box office sales, yet it is so well handled, so thoughtful, I fell in love with it.

The film opens with Kristin Wiig giving a voice-over to a scene with her character and her twin brother as children. She muses on their friendship, ending with a sad, "God. What happened to us?" In the next scene we see the adult version of her twin brother Milo, played by Bill Hader, who is writing a note, blasting 80's music, and slipping into a bathtub which slowly fills with blood. Cut to Maggie (Wiig), who is also in a bathroom, breathing hard and staring down at the pile of pills in her hand. Before she can swallow them, her phone rings. She is at first annoyed to hear a stranger on the other end, until she hears that Milo was just admitted to the hospital for attempted suicide. She glances down at the pills in shock.
"He's okay," the caller from the hospital states.
"Good. Thank you," Maggie says.

As the twins reunite in the hospital, Maggie says nothing about her own attempt at ending her life. Instead she acts like the one who has it all together, inviting Milo - gay and lonely, trying to become an actor, yet funny and caring - to come stay with her and her husband. Despite not having spoken in a decade, the two have an instant, easy bond, understanding each other and picking up where they left off. The reason for the separation, and for the darkness they each carry, is explained and explored. As they begin to confront their darkness, the question hovers: Will their friendship and love be enough to save them, or is it all too much? The acting is remarkable and the story is vividly layered. I've watched it again and again.

I think one reason I love the film is because it starts a conversation many people don't want to have. The need for counseling and medication is real and is not a sign of weakness or lack of faith. God created us to need one other, to support and help with listening ears, truthful words, and even to give medicine which can balance out chemicals in the brain. After all, we don't tell someone with a broken leg, "Get rid of that crutch! Have more faith!" Or a blind person, "Walk by faith! You don't need that cane."

Relevant magazine recently published an article titled "Why Churches Need To Talk About Suicide"
 and "12 Stats You Need To Know On Suicide Prevention Day".  So - let's talk. Let's talk about depression and self-harm and mental health and loneliness. Likely you know someone who has attempted or committed suicide or struggles with one of the issues above. I do. I've been to the funeral of a friend's husband who took his life. I've sat down with a shy college student who wears long sleeves to cover the cuts on her arms, and the girl at Casa Adalia whose wrists are so lined with razor-blade cuts it's like running your finger across the pages of a book. I've knelt beside a girl shaking and crying from a panic attack. So many things which aren't pretty, but are instead messy and painful. So many things which must be acknowledged and talked about.

Whether it's a film or a friend which gets the conversation going, it's worth it. It's my conviction that saying, "Well, it doesn't effect me, I'm okay, so I don't need to talk about it," is not acceptable. One day I could have a sibling or close friend come to me and say, "I'm struggling with ..." and I need to be ready to respond with love. Or much, much, worse, to find that that person did not go to anyone, but simply took their life because they were too afraid of having a conversation in which they'd be judged, in which the person didn't know how to react and thus made them feel even more desperately alone. I'm not willing to wait and see what will happen. I'm here to talk about it. I'm here to say, "You are loved. There is hope." Together let's say, "Maybe we all have skeletons in our closets, but that's okay. We can talk about them. We'll see you tomorrow."


We'll pray for Heaven's floor to break,
Pour the brightest white on blackest space,
Come bleeding gloriously through
The clouds and the blue.
Forcing on place from two,
Filling formulaic views,
Only love proves to be the truth"