I never met Carmical. I knew of his videos through the larger umbrella of online comic personalities and critics joined under the Channel Awesome website. Like many of the folks who contribute videos, blogs and other content to the site, Carmical took part in Channel Awesome's anniversary specials that have taken on a special life of their own. His personality - cheerfully goofy, offbeat and upbeat - stood out in stark contrast to the largely cynical collection of 20-somethings that make up the majority of Channel Awesome's personalities.
His loss has been keenly felt by those who worked with him and knew him best; in the hours following the announcement of his death, Carmical's friends took to their twitter accounts, blogs and yes, their videos, and poured out a tremendous amount of tributes full of heartfelt and touching stories and sentiments.
As I said, I never met Carmical, and thus am in no position to write such a touching tribute. That's not what I'm here to talk about.
The circumstances surrounding Carmical's death are now a matter of public record; as his wife posted on Facebook:
"It is with a very sad heart that I must confirm my husband, Justin Carmical, sometimes known as the Jew Wario died on Thursday, January 23rd.
I also have to confirm he shot himself, but he was not alone, he locked himself in the bathroom and I was on the other side of the door talking with him. He knew I loved him, HE KNEW ALL OF YOU LOVED HIM. You all made him so happy, every time he was recognized from his videos, it made him giddy with joy."
That this death was attributable to suicide was undoubtedly cause for even more pain for those who were close to Carmical. As is so often the case with suicide, many have said that this came as a complete shock, that Carmical had seemed - at their last respective meeting - upbeat, eager to work, and looking to the future.
Amidst anonymous internet commenters, reactions have been sudden and - to my mind - surprisingly callous.
"Kinda fucked up to do that to your wife though," quipped on commenter on Kotaku's coverage of the news. "Just saying."
"My uncle committed suicide and it destroyed my aunt's and cousin's lives," said another user of Lez Get Real. "I have no compassion for people who commit suicide it is the most selfish act a person can do. They only think about themselves and not what will happen to their family and friends. I will prey [sic] that Justin is in a better place but he will never get my sympathy that belongs to his friends and family."
I can understand the need to feel angry when someone commits suicide. There will always be a part of our grieving process devoted to finding someone or something to blame when tragedy strikes. Terrorists attack: we blame the terrorists. A building collapses: we blame the contractors. Even, in most cases, with natural disasters - a flood, a hurricane, a wildfire - we can find somebody to blame with a remote amount of rationale to back it up: the government, the emergency services, the lack of preparedness, etc. But who can be blamed when an individual simply decides to end it all, for no other apparent reason than they simply could not stand to face another day?
Clinical Depression is a mental disorder that we have a very poor understanding of. Aside from the obvious imperfections of any clinical mental health study, Depression stands apart in society as a sort of pariah. Too often it is dismissed as a mere psychosomatic episode, or as a simple mood change. We hear from our friends and colleagues that "everyone" feels depressed at least some of the time. And if everyone does feel it, why isn't everyone killing themselves? The implication, of course, is that those that do so must in some way be weak of character or there must be some other underlying circumstance in their life. You see it in the comments sections on the news of Carmical's death just as you see and hear it whenever someone commits suicide: "I would never do that," "I suffered from depression and I didn't kill myself," "how could they do that to their friends." Above all else though, a very common refrain, even from the compassionate: "There has to be an explanation."
What if there isn't? What if a person's mind simply communicates this information to them that this is the only way, and no amount of rational thinking will override that nagging impulse? Would that be too frightening to consider?
For my own part, I believe the far more dangerous course of action is to continue to operate under the assumption that everything can be explained and broken down through a sort of universal human experience. It must sound odd to hear that coming from someone who professes to be a writer. We artistes are encouraged to trade in slices of "the human experience," as though there is one great big pie of common knowledge that the world can chop into to retrieve instant gratification. The truth, of course, is beyond basic understanding: we are all different.
This is not some mere platitude meant to be spoon-fed to schoolchildren; it is a cold statement of fact. When I say we are all different, I am saying that completely mapping the thought process of another human being is unfathomable. We can make educated guesses. We can assume societal norms, language development, sexual boundaries, etc. etc. but, at the end of the day, our minds are ours, and ours alone.
I do not know the circumstances surrounding Carmical's death, let alone what he was thinking when he shot himself. I will never know. No one will. All I know is that he was a person, not a mental health statistic, and the more we start to see ourselves as such, the more we'll realize that those around us deserve the same privilege.
Here are some links to useful sites on depression and suicide prevention:
Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention
Canadian Mental Health Association - Depression
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Mood Disorders Association of Ontario
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