A mother in rural NSW once told me about a devastating conversation she’d had with her 18-year-old son, Callum*. Callum was scared his depression would never be bad enough for him to commit suicide.
Things wouldn’t get better, he was sure, but what if they also didn’t get worse? He’d be trapped in purgatory, condemned to suffer without the acuity required to follow through on his plans. Suicide was practically feasible but would never be inevitable, no matter how much he wanted it.