The Economics of Despair
Zac and me on his graduation day from the University of Arizona
It is National Suicide Prevention Week and my social media is filled with passionate pleas for us to get our shit together as a country and invest in suicide prevention. Every Tweet and Instagram post that encourages people to stay alive, that they matter, that it’s ok to struggle feels like a knife in the heart. Our systems failed my brother on every level. Our culture blames him and says he should’ve saved himself. There are many voices trying to change that culture and I want to be one of those voices but my heart is so broken and the pain is so acute that it is hard to get the energy to shout from the rooftops that WE MUST DO MORE TO PREVENT SUICIDE and the slow moving destruction that is addiction.
One side I think we don’t talk about enough is the economics of despair. One of Zac’s greatest anxieties about life, like most people, was money. Our family struggled financially when we were growing up and Zac and I both experienced deep anxiety about having enough money to be financially independent. We took a lot of pride in the careers we built to provide that security. But to build those careers, Zac and me like many 90’s kids took on a lot of credit card and student loan debt to get there. The financial anxiety was high on Zac’s worst fears and his alcoholism and money worries went hand-in-hand. Zac also had a serious savior complex and it meant a lot to him that he could help out friends and romantic partners. But he would stretch himself too far to help other people.
Any time the car broke down or the cats had a hefty medical bill or he needed a new computer or an expensive appliance or other necessary equipment was needed or he had a major medical expense it was a serious crisis to Zac. He would get extremely panicked. I think the first time I realized my brother had serious suicidal thinking was when he owed back taxes. It was a very scary situation for him and he told me very clearly he was thinking of killing himself because he was so distraught. He would joke about killing himself before but this situation with the taxes made it sound like he wasn’t joking any more. This incident finally made it click in my brain that my brother had a more serious issue with anxiety and depression than I fully understood.
Zac never went to rehab and a big reason why is the cost. He was absolutely terrified of how much it would cost to go and clearly felt like he couldn’t afford it. Every time he ended up in the hospital to detox, it was very expensive and it weighed on him heavily. He was ashamed of the cost of his alcoholism, terrified of being broke and it prevented him from getting the help he really needed.
Zac’s former partner was financially dependent on him, to the point that Zac went way too far with the financial support that he provided, and it severely increased his deep anxiety in the months before his death. He told me that he was terrified that his former partner would “end up on the streets or a homeless shelter” if he didn’t continue his financial support and that his former partner “wouldn’t make it”, implying he would die unless Zac helped him. We argued about how Zac was severely jeopardizing his own security and ability to pay his bills. Zac admitted to me just before his death that he stopped paying for his own health insurance and he could not afford another hospital stay or rehab. I begged him to call his therapist and ask for no cost/low cost options for rehab. He said he would consider it, but I am sure he just wanted me to stop pushing him.
The financial cost of despair is a huge contributor to suicide and overdose. We treat health care and therapy as a cash cow, profiting off of people’s misery, mental illness and addictions. It is disgusting and I won’t stop fighting as long as I can to make health care, therapy, and addiction treatment free and accessible. Will it save everyone and stop all suicide and overdose? Of course not. But it will sure as fuck remove one more barrier to preventing this unbearable heartbreak.
