In a special two-part report, the Bulletin examines depression and suicide in young people and what the Jewish and general communities are doing about the problem.

Josh Platzer was a sensitive kid, one for whom the troubles and conflicts in the world caused him very personal pain. He was raised amid comforting surroundings on the West Side of Vancouver, with loving parents and a younger sister.

But he was deeply unhappy - something his parents and medical professionals say was almost certainly a chemical imbalance, easily treatable with the new generation of anti-depressant medications.  In fact, 15-year-old Josh was prescribed some of these pills, though it turned out he was stashing them and not taking them. The funny, intelligent Point Grey high school student had attempted suicide in
December 1998 with some over-the-counter medications, something his parents, Jude and Ben Platzer, didn't find out about until weeks later. Meanwhile, Josh was on a long wait list for an appointment with a psychiatrist.

In March 1999, he attempted suicide again, using 19 Tylenol. He survived this incident, too, and the family was treated at a mental health clinic. Jude Platzer complains that a lack of funding for mental health services means it is often only after potentially catastrophic acts like these that a young person is able to access the services they desperately need.

That summer, they sent him to visit cousins in England. He had a wonderful time and, after he returned to Vancouver, his spirits seemed to improve over the remaining days of summer. His sister, Nisha, then 11, was also in Europe later that summer, attending a special school program. On Aug. 6, 1999, she flew into Vancouver International Airport. The parents thought it would be nice if the whole family met her at the terminal, but Josh demurred.

Throughout Josh's period of depression, the family was told to
give him some space, so Ben and Jude Platzer didn't force the issue.They went to the airport and brought their daughter home.  Meanwhile, Josh went to a friend's house and watched some videos. He left the friend's house about 10 p.m., though he never made it home. His mother looked for him all night, but Josh could not be found. Police would not help in a search, telling the parents that teenagers take off all the time.

Josh was discovered the next morning by a newspaper carrier. He had hanged himself from the porch of his friend's house.

ASKING, "WHAT IF...."

In retrospect, the parents realize Josh's apparent upbeat mood in the few days before his death came from the relief of having finally made a decision to end his life. This, they have learned, is not an uncommon characteristic among suicidal people. But the parents can't help thinking things might have been different. They say that cutbacks in health services have reduced the availability of experts to help young people like Josh. Moreover, when he was treated, the parents were not fully aware of the seriousness of his condition.
Confidentiality is imperative between a young person and their
counsellors, in order to raise the level of trust, but Jude Platzer said there has to be a middle ground.

"It is a dilemma, but I think everybody needs to know where to draw the line," she told the Bulletin. "When you have a child like this in your family, the whole family needs to be treated."

Also, educators should be more informed about symptoms of suicide in young people, say the Platzers. After Josh died, his father found a class project Josh had written that contained grisly, destructive and violent imagery. The teacher later said she was just pleased that Josh had finished the project; his school work had been suffering.  Among other things, they found were the anti-depressants - largely unused - that Josh had been prescribed and journal entries that included this statement: "I have managed to push away everyone who is near to me, so they won't be too saddened by my 'death.' "
By putting the word death in quotation marks, Josh may have
betrayed a common conception among young people that death is somehow impermanent. It is a view that may have been shared by his little sister, who prepared a card for Josh's 16th birthday a month later. It read: "Dear Josh, Happy 16th birthday. I hope you still get to celebrate, wherever you are. Enjoy driving."

Josh had been bar mitzvahed at the Peretz shul and, though his parents are not religious and did not sit shivah, they do light a yarzheit candle every Friday night, about the time they saw Josh for the last time on Friday, Aug. 6, 1999.

ENDING THE STIGMA

In the 20 months since Josh died, the Platzers' personal tragedy has become a very public mission. Jude Platzer has gone public with her grief, founding the Josh Platzer Memorial Fund. She is raising money to fund projects dealing with suicide prevention and awareness. When the funds are amassed, the trustees will consider various projects and Platzer doesn't want to prejudge what sorts of projects will be
funded. But some possibilities might be a documentary film and
teaching guide, money for immediate emergency counseling or funds for support groups for children and parents.

In the meantime, Platzer's high profile has been a magnet to parents and others who have experienced loss through suicide. "I'm almost like a volunteer counsellor now," she said. As much as anything, Jude Platzer wants to tear down the wall of stigma that surrounds depression and suicide.

Sitting in a Dunbar Street café, she looks across the room at a
chalkboard that usually bears inspirational messages. On this
morning, it reads: "Falling down doesn't make you a failure, but
staying down does." It is a pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps
message that appals Platzer. Depression, she said, is an illness just like any other and should be treated as such. Messages that imply weakness or failure among those who are "down" reinforce a dangerous stigma that prevents people from seeking help, she said.  It is a stigma that is reflected in the media, she said, in a public unwillingness to discuss the issue and in the head-in-the-sand attitude evinced by some officials in the places where it matters most: the education system.

"There are some schools that don't want to talk about it," she said.