Marianne and Aaron

This was written by my 20 year old daughter Marianne as part of a mental health campaign at Brigham Young University.

You hear the word mental illness and you cringe. You hear the word suicide and your heart beats uncomfortably. It's not a fun subject to talk about. It's easier to stay silent, but NOW is the time to talk and we so desperately need to talk. Why? 

On March 6, 2017 my brother Aaron Hartzell, a current BYU student, died from bipolar disorder by suicide. I think it is important to realize that even the brightest, most intelligent minds within our school are struggling with mental illness. Aaron didn't "take his life." His life was taken by the disease bipolar disorder. That illness is the reason he died. He wasn't trying to escape and he didn't "make a poor choice." He suffered from a terrible illness that ultimately took his life. Aaron tried his hardest, for 5 years. He didn't give up easily. He did everything he could to recover. Sometimes the brain (like any other organ) responds well to treatment and sometimes it doesn’t.

We need to start talking, for ourselves, for our peers, for our future generation and for our own children. I believe the time is now to brush aside the stigma and stereotypes about bipolar and all mental illnesses, no matter how small or how severe.  We need to educate ourselves the best we can, for ourselves and for those around us. We need to cultivate an environment at BYU where metal illness is not viewed as sinful or abnormal, but is seen like any other illness--like diabetes, cancer or chronic pain. 

One stereotype our world needs to overcome is that all mental illness and all suicidal tendencies are the same. They are not. One misconception I saw over and over again when talking to people about Aaron is that they thought that Aaron didn't know his worth, didn't have hope or thought he wasn’t loved. All three of those things were false in Aaron's case. Aaron was a righteous young man. Aaron did have hope; he did everything he could and hoped that his illness would get better. Aaron knew he was loved. He didn't wake up one day feeling lonely and decide to kill himself. Aaron's life ended because the pain he was experiencing was so great and unimaginable and a part of his brain was so ill that this option was the only way he believed he could find peace. We cannot judge those who are suicidal, or have other mental illness and we cannot pretend to understand their sufferings, because unless we have suffered it ourselves, we will not understand. However, we can love them. We can be their friend. We can pray for them. We can make sure they are getting the medical help they need and we can be a listening ear. We can help those suffering, but not through making assumptions about their illness. 

We don't need to wait until someone dies from mental illness. We need to talk about it before it happens. Aaron was an intelligent student, deep thinker and had the mind of a philosopher. Although close family members were aware of Aaron's fight with bipolar disorder, Aaron did not share his illness with his peers. I believe this was because he felt he would be looked at differently--academically, socially, and as a human being. I believe that some of Aaron's fears about his peers looking down on him are genuine and real problems. Are we doing our job as BYU students to create an environment of kindness and compassion, where those with mental illness will not feel isolated or pitied?

Mental illness may seem scary, but as we inform ourselves and talk to those around us, it doesn't have to be. It's 2017. Will we continue to let mental illness and suicide be a taboo subject that we believe doesn't affect us, our fellow students, or the people we love? The choice is ours and we need to decide. Now.