If, like me, you were a teenager in the peak of the Motown years these words from Smokey Robinson are probably etched in your heart. There was even a time when I luxuriated in the melancholy of such songs and I'm sure some of that melancholia was brought forward into my adult life and triggered at the loss of love. However they are very acutely brought to mind at this time. Firstly on the very sad death of Caroline Flack which should never have been allowed to happen. And secondly as I watched The Joker this week with the amazing performance of the tragic-comic lead character played by Joaquin Pheonix (what an apt name in itself to play this part).
These are two very different situations, of course. Caroline, it was quoted, 'loved to love'. Perhaps she loved too much. Perhaps her alleged accidental crime was committed in a heated moment of passionate loss of self-control - we may never know because she didn't have chance to defend herself; instead she was tried by media. But here was someone who presented to the world as having it all, although being a complex individual, was happy and vibrant and enjoying life on a cloud of celebrity. Until her fall. Even that last tragic photo of her trying to fix the TV in such a normal everyday way does not give any clue as to her unstable state of mind. And yet the very next day she took her life. I never once watched Love Island and can't comment on whether she was bullied and victimised online, but what struck me was that the person behind the celebrity mask was actually so much more vulnerable than anyone close to her realised. She was perhaps putting on the mask right up to the end. Because to do the opposite and admit to her vulnerability might have made her fall prey to even more dark forces blaming her for attention-seeking or whatever. So sad that she thought that it was better to leave this planet than call for help in her last hours. No doubt those closest to her will have to fight with the pain of believing they should have seen it coming, that they should not have left her alone for her hurt and despair to implode on itself.
The case of the Joker is quite different of course. Here we have a damaged tortured soul who, because of his disability (uncontrollable laughing in inappropriate circumstances), was bullied and ridiculed and who fantasises about making people laugh for real as a stand up. In his case, the anger and bitterness towards society and those who had ridiculed him explode and he chooses to go on a killing spree, knowing of course that he would either be killed or given life imprisonment - a different form of suicide but that it was. In his case he was given a gun for self-defence by one of his odd misguided cronies who didn't see his potential to kill, only his propensity to be a victim. Could his ensuing behaviour have been predicted?
The moral of these tales is that bad mental health may be lurking and latent in many of us, but it is simply not recognised. It might just be discounted or dismissed by us or even unwittingly fed by us because we really don't know what to do about it. We have so many small stresses of our own often placing us close to overwhelm. Our listening radar does not always function as it should.
Smokey goes on to sing:
"Now if I appear to be carefree
It's only to camouflage my sadness
And honey to shield my pride
I try
to cover this hurt with a show of gladness
But don't let my show convince you
I'm hurt and I want you to know
For others I put on a show."
So while we cannot hope to heal every tormented soul in our family and friend circle we can keep reminding those around us that we are always there, we are always listening. And if the chips or bagels are really down we are the listener of last resort. Any time of day or night.
Let all those in your world know that while you are around they are never alone.
Melinda Beckett-Hughes
February 2020