This one is particularly difficult to swallow, I think, because for anybody who was inclined to enjoy the entertainment Bourdain produced, it took about 5 minutes before you felt like he was your cool ass, globe-trotting, cuisine loving, rough around the edges but absolutely endearing uncle.
Such an interesting guy. What a shame.
I don't know how to go about cracking the nut that is depression/mental health issues at a societal scale. At a few points in my life I've teetered on the precipice of ending it all for myself. Those days are, thankfully, mere blips in the rearview now, but I still ponder over what drove me to those depths quite often. In my experience, it was always a much easier rationalization to just: bottle everything up, suck it up, rub some dirt on it, get over it, keep to oneself; rather than share my weakness, my ailment, with anyone else.
I would embark on this train of thought time and again where:
"everyone else can make their way from one day to the next, you're just being a wuss."
"nobody wants to hear you complain about your trivial problems."
"you can't even wake up from a full night's sleep without hating yourself, what a worthless waste."
Having that as my inner monologue all day for months and months and years and years compounded upon itself to the point where I just wanted to go away. Nobody would miss me anyway, you see, which I had divined through all of the zero conversations I had had with them on the matter. What they actually thought was of little consequence, none of them knew me better than I knew myself, and I horsefeathering hated me. I would be doing them a service by going away.
Then one night when I was at just about the absolute nadir of my mental well being, I worked up the courage to tell my best friend everything. I sorta tricked myself into it by going full on nihilistic and thinking "if none of this matters anyway, and you don't hate her, just you, then it doesn't matter if you do her the courtesy of keeping her in the loop". I completely blindsided her, but I've never in my life felt more loved or appreciated than I did during and after that conversation. I truly believe she saved me, but in retrospect any of my siblings or my parents or grandparents or uncles or aunts would've done the same for me. At her behest, I ended up going to see a counselor that was provided for any student who had need of one at my college later in that week and had pretty much flipped the script on that entire chapter of my life within a year.
I wrote way more here than I had intended, but I figure that if someone else, even just one other person, can gain insight from my mistakes and my corrections then I'm glad to share. We're all biological machines churning out emotions and feelings and thoughts, and the best safety valve we have for letting off any excess is each other. If you feel that you're worthless or if you're without hope, try opening up to someone, be it a friend, a relative, the suicide hotline, a counselor, or some random person you find on the internet. Warped thoughts beget even more twisted notions. Depression is a toxic cycle, and if you allow it to run its course in isolation, you're giving the virus exactly what it needs to thrive.
When Schwarber wins the WS with a big fat dong and uses his bat to club to death every player on the other team and half their fans, I expect every one of these talking heads to defend him. -yanrslatr