In yesterday’s post about First World Suicides, I mentioned that South Korea is #1 for suicide rates among the developed countries and they have held this position for the past eight years.
In a country where the pressures of ambition, achievement and success are omnipresent, students feel frustrated, anxious and ultimately, dejected. Up to 40 people commit suicide each day.
Students are enrolling in “death experience” schools where they go undergo their own funerals. The hope and expectation is that students completing the program will learn to appreciate life again. Indeed, some of the graduates emerge with a sense of “cleansing” and “enlightenment.”
Young students are not the only clients. Others enrolling in these schools includes middle-aged people anxious about finances and the elderly who are afraid of being burdens on their families.
The program is designed to provide an opportunity for reflection. Suicidal clients are directed to reflect on the “collateral damage” their deaths might cause and they are reminded that a critical part of life is to have problems and to handle them.
One factor fueling the stress of success is South Korea’s rapid progress as a super power. In just a few decades, “South Korea has rocketed from one of the poorest countries in the world to the 12th biggest global economic power” (Daily Mail).¹
I’d like to hear your thoughts on this. Answer below!
Guyana. Experts believe it’s due to the extreme poverty rate, high levels of alcohol abuse and ease of access to pesticides. ¹ Additionally, Guyana has a shortage of social services, including suicide counselors.
The second? South Korea. Up to 40 people kill themselves each day in South Korea, a strong, economic country. This, experts believe, is due to their extreme competitiveness and their hyper focus on “success.” In fact, suicide is the number one killer of people ages 10 to 30 in that country.
Silicon Valley in California is experiencing an alarming uptick in teen suicides. This, apparently, for the same reasons South Korea experiences suicides: overwhelming stress and competition to succeed in school and then work. “Twelve percent of Palo Alto high-school students surveyed in the 2013–14 school year reported having seriously contemplated suicide in the past 12 months.” (The Atlantic) ²
School administrators, community stakeholders and mental health professionals are rushing to prevent suicides and “suicide clusters” (phenomenon where three or more suicides occur in close proximity for time and location (CDC)). A large part of working to prevent suicides lies in identifying the cause. Why are successful, talented teens committing suicide?
Suniya S. Luthar, Foundation Professor at Arizona State University, conducted a study of high socioeoconomic (SES) teens and low socioeconomic teens. Her findings surprised her: the high SES teens abused drugs and alcohol at a substantially higher rate. These teens also experienced very high levels of serious anxiety and depression. Why? The teens felt emotionally distant from their parents. They felt they had to achieve just as much, if not more, than their parents in academics and salary. (The Atlantic)
Social media seems to play a role in the speed with which suicides and suicide clusters appear. Students will know of a suicide on the CalTrain track within an hour of it happening and online bullying runs rampant and undetected by parents. Martyrdom of suicides is something school administrators work to avoid: students may not place memorials on school grounds.
Different cultures and countries are handling it differently. Tomorrow, a look at how South Korea is working to reduce suicides among their youth.
Try as I might, I cannot separate love from fear entirely. I love her, my first born. Knowing her has lit the dark corners of my soul forever. She laughs often. She is deeply sensitive to others and is quick to help…anyone. A friend recently texted me. She thanked me for raising such a generous daughter who offered to loan dresses to her friends for a dance. I had no idea.
And I fight the fear that clouds my love for her. Will she get college scholarships if she gets a “C” in math? Couldn’t she have practiced a wee bit more for her violin competition? Will boys taunt her sexually when she goes to high school? Will they touch her against her consent? Will she develop an eating disorder like the 20 million women in our country suffering from anorexia nervosa? On and on it goes. The remedy for this chain of anxiety? Be present. Admire how she paints her nails and reads her English book. She hops about the kitchen, looking for a snack. She jumps up and teases the dog, English book in hand.
Fear.
I fear the swimming pool filter ever since I opened it and found two small mice, spooning each other, dead.
I fear centipedes and the carpet in our guestroom sheds. When a filament comes loose and I’m not wearing my glasses, it looks just like a … CENTIPEDE!
“The Carpet”
But I’m not afraid of snakes and I’m not afraid of javelinas (collard peccary), despite the recent attack in Phoenix. I can overcome my fears. I CAN stop worrying over what has not happened and enjoy what is in front of me, right now.
Circuitously, I have offered my advice. Pay attention. Be present and kick fear to the curb.
Driving to Phoenix for my oncologist appointment, I find myself trembling. My heart is beating faster and I think I really need to cut out the caffeine.
The waiting room fills me with the usual dread: elderly people with scarves wrapped around their bald heads, the walking canes, wheelchairs and bandages. I want to shout, I’m not sick! I don’t belong here. At the same time, I know it has not been that long since I was tightly wrapped with two drains coming out of my chest, and expanders under my chest muscles.
I can’t forget and I shouldn’t.
A woman in her late sixties with a silky Louis Vuitton scarf wrapped around her bare head walks slowly. Her husband holds her arm by the elbow with both of his hands. They walk to the restroom and then to the doctor’s office. They take each step carefully.
I’m called in for the draw.
The room is small and crowded with three chairs. The chairs have planks like small school desks for arms to rest on.
Did they take your lymph nodes?
Yes.
Which arm?
Both.
She raises both eyebrows.
I add, Not all of them, just a few…you know…for the biopsy. I am rambling.
Which arm shall I use?
I lay both arms out for us to assess.
She chooses my left arm.
The room is freezing and my trembling has turned to shaking.
“Are you OK?” She is concerned because I look away. I know what’s coming. They can never find a vein. They never find it without moving the needle all around.
She wiggles the needle. I take a peek. “See, I’m trying to get that one.” She points to a vague blue line. I nod.
After many apologies, her wiggling and my squeamishness pay off. Two vials fill quickly. The blood is a very deep red. I visualize only healthy cells in it.
Then comes the meeting with the RN.
She wants to hear how I have been doing. She wants to know how the Tamoxifen is working. I remind her I have been off of it for 9 months. I had told the doctor that it made me feel suicidal. He had given his blessing, proclaimed me cured anyway….but he didn’t put that in his notes. The RN appears embarrassed and adds that to my file. I sigh inwardly.
No cancer in your family? No.
So strange, you got it so young. I nod in agreement. It will always be a mystery.
She asks about any new developments. Concerns. I take advantage of this opportunity.
I’ve had what I’m sure is a hamstring injury. Or bone cancer, I laugh weakly.
Is the pain intermittent or progressing?
Intermittent.
Her shoulders go back, her eyes get wide and she says in a soothing and authoritative tone:
Bone cancer is extremely painful. The pain gets worse and worse. ALSO, it is extremely rare for breast cancer to spread below the groin. Extremely rare. It sounds like a hamstring injury.
She recommends a heating pad and a Styrofoam roller.
After the Dirty Girl Mud Run in Phoenix
I am slightly relieved. Still…
She sees my concern.
If you want, I can order a bone scan. For your entire body. Not because I am worried, but because you are.
This is so generous of her!
This sounds thorough. This sounds like something I want. This will increase my chances of celebrating my 20th, 25th…heck, maybe even my 40th wedding anniversary. This will increase the chances of holding my grandchildren someday.
Wait.
If I am developing a cancer that is NOT bone cancer, would that show up?
No, not in the bone scan.
Hm. I realize how crazy I am getting. I want a full body MRI. I want a full body bone scan. I want someone – someone who is an expert with an immaculate record – to tell me the cancer is gone and will never come back. But there are no guarantees. I don’t want to obsess over every achy muscle…over every itchy mole. The testing could go on and on and in some cases, actually increase my chances of recurrent cancer.
The RN tilts her head and smiles. I exhale.
Tell you what, why don’t you try the Styrofoam roller and heating pad? If it doesn’t get better, call me. Call me any time.
This sounds reasonable. And generous.
I am to return in six months.
I walk into the sunshine. It’s not as hot as it has been. I’m excited about the new season as I get in my car.
Kismet 