Yesterday I found
out on Facebook that a man I know who was about my age and was a fixture at a
certain gay bar I frequent passed away. While the cause of his death is still
unknown, it was suggested to me that he may have taken his own life because he
was very unhappy. (He had recently broken up with a boyfriend and was also
unemployed.) I did not know this man very well (he was more of an acquaintance than a friend), but it got me thinking.
Middle-aged gay
men in New York face a unique set of pressures.
First of all,
there’s the economic pressure faced by everyone who lives in New York City, the
most expensive city in America and one of the most expensive cities in the
world. Add to that the difficulty of finding a job in this economy, which still has not recovered from the recession that started
six years ago. I would also argue that there is rampant age discrimination
going on in the workplace that’s not being prosecuted because it’s almost
impossible to prove. (But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.)
Secondly, there’s
the ageism in our society in general which, I would argue, is even worse in the
gay community. This is compounded by the gay community’s emphasis on looks,
which borders on body fascism. Granted, our entire culture is now consumed with
appearances, but the gay community may have started this trend (a fact
which does not make me proud to be a gay man).
Third, there’s
the rampant promiscuity in the gay community. (Yes, I know some gays are in
committed relationships or even married, but they’re the minority). Again, this
is not unique to the gay community, but we practically invented “hooking up.”
I don’t want to
sound anti-sex, but try finding a boyfriend in this environment!
And all of this
is happening in an atmosphere of total silence. Sure, the recent suicide of Robin Williams cast the media’s attention
on depression for about a week, but then they moved on to the next crisis.
(War? Ebola? Take your pick!)
And this
situation is further exacerbated by social media, which not only has had the
ironic effect of making us more isolated, but serves to magnify the highs and
lows of the human condition: everyone’s life is either perfect or they’re
dying. What you don’t see is the mundane
reality that constitutes 95% of most people’s lives: going to work, cooking,
doing the laundry, watching TV, etc.
It’s no wonder
that the suicide rate is highest among white men in my age group.1
And it’s also no wonder that the rate of substance abuse is higher among gay men.2
Also, let’s not
forget that my generation saw dozens of their friends and lovers die during the
peak years of the AIDS crisis. We weren’t even supposed to live this long!
I’m not a
psychiatrist. This is just my opinion based on my feelings and what I’ve
observed in other middle-aged gay men in New York. It’s a tragedy when anyone
dies before his time, but suicide represents a level of depression that’s
incomprehensible to me.
I’ve joked a lot
about the alienation I feel as a gay man in my act, but when someone kills
himself because of that alienation, it’s no joke.
A few years ago,
there was a gay psychiatrist who wrote a book about how to survive middle age
as a gay man and he killed himself!3
That would be funny if it wasn’t true.
I don’t know what
the answer is, but I suspect it has something to do with paying more attention
to our relationships in real life (as
in, not on the Internet), not
isolating ourselves and not being afraid to talk about our feelings.
I wish I had the
opportunity to ask my acquaintance how he was feeling and that he had the courage to
tell me the truth.
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