One of Us
Chances are Dr. Edward Van Dyk was one of us. A person who has battled mental illness.
At its worst, every morning the alarm buzzes and your first thought isn’t what’s on the agenda today or did I make the kids’ lunches or even what sounds good for breakfast. Your first thought is - damn. I’m still here.
The Black Hole is all around you, and it’s of a depth and breadth you’ve not known. The ache in your chest is heavy and suffocating. Nothing can take it away except to silence it. You want to close your eyes and go away. Far away to a place where there is no pain. Just peace.
The pain of living has become unbearable and now outweighs the fear of the unknown. And you just want the pain to stop. You just want it to stop.
Most of your family and friends have no idea of your secret. Over the years, you’ve become an expert at faking it. So, it seems, had Dr. Van Dyk. Colleagues, family members and neighbors don’t know why he threw his two young sons and himself over the balcony of a Miami Beach hotel.
All they and we know is that yesterday Dr. Van Dyk’s father admitted that his son, sounding panicked and upset, had phoned him two days earlier. And we know that Dr. Van Dyk, a radiation oncologist, had three jobs in three states in the past five years.
There is oh so much we don’t know and most likely can’t even imagine.
