So the data is taken from 2017, making the last time that the suicide rate was this high 1967, when the “Summer of (drunken, stoned, irresponsible and profligate) Love” happened.
Back when we were in a cultural civil war, and it was hard to pick sides for many.
It occurs to me the best metaphor is being a child caught in continual nasty arguing between two parents. I’ve been there, and so have many others. You just want it to stop.
We all occupy, ideally, many levels of social interaction. We have, hopefully, our family and friends, then our community, then the broader nation, then the world. I think all of us most instinctively crave peace and quiet and continuity. We want the world to be predictable, to be roughly the same ten years from now as it is today, and for that to be something we can count on.
I would suspect the suicide rate goes up every time there is mass confusion and strife. Chris Cornell–who no doubt wrestled with personal demons, with Developmental and likely other trauma all his life–took his life in the Trump era, in the Antifa era, in the #MeToo era. He took his life during all the shouting and screaming.
Many people walking among us are on the edge (I am not, by the way: I feel good), and it doesn’t take much to push them over. A swing in the overall vitriol of the public space is certainly sufficient for many. They look at it and say: what the fuck am I hanging around for, for THIS?
And I will say, too, that for those who don’t understand suicide, I will say that I have felt the feelings that I am quite sure lead some to take their lives. If you have not felt these feelings, you have no idea how awful living can feel. You may think you can compare what you call bad days to that, but it’s off by several degrees of magnitude. There may be words, but I don’t have them, and in any event, I don’t want to conjure any of that back at the moment to look at them and try to describe them.
I actually had a not bad night’s sleep last night. I don’t think I shook, screamed, had nightmares or woke with a startle response. OK, that last maybe once. I am very sensitive. Still, I think I have found the frequency in my Neurofeedback. Maybe I will name it Kenneth. My days are slowly qualitatively changing for the better.
I have specific things to offer people in despair, but I want to climb the ladder out first. Only from there is a helping hand optimally useful.