Statistics - the Human Component

Statistics are used to entertain, inform, illuminate, educate, flummox, and support. I tend to collect minutia statistical information for kicks - for example, globally, less than 20% of my fellow humans wash their hands after using the toilet; the average American generates 4.5 pounds of trash daily; and, the Earth's population rises by about 2 million humans every 9 days. Here are a few more that for some reason or another, I felt warranted the use of grey matter:

• Fewer than 2% of college athletes make it to the pros.
• More US soldiers died in the Civil War than all the other wars combined.
• Innocent people will admit to a crime they did not commit 43% of the time.
• The average drunk driver gets behind the wheel at least 80 times before they're arrested for the first time.
• 1 in 10 American jobs is supported by traveler spending.

I bet if I looked hard enough, I could find contrary statistics, and if I'm creative, I could come up with my own, complete with references and conviction to make them ring true. That's the thing about stats, right? They're like assholes - everyone has one. 

Stats are fun and games. Until the stats are reporting on the serious issues that make you uncomfortable. Or sad. Or angry. Or ashamed.

Since 1999, the suicide rate of our fellow citizens has climbed 35%. For every 25 suicide attempts, one is successful. The 10th leading cause of death in the United States is suicide. There are 132 suicides per day, and out of that number, 17-20 are Veterans. And, nearly half of American adults will experience a mental illness. The statistics are scary. But as just numbers, they really don't hit home, do they? It's almost like "3 out of 4 dentists recommend." - important information but does it really affect you?

Let me humanize statistics for you. My friend, Julie, became one of the 17-20 Veterans. I don't know if she had 25 attempts, but I know there were a few. From outward appearances, you wouldn't think anything was wrong. She always had a smile, was incredibly supportive of her friends and family, and had the most determined nature of anyone I've met. She was forgiving of those around her and she was a fierce fighter for her tribe. She loved completely, laughed abundantly, and lived ferociously. Unfortunately, she could not give the same grace and forgiveness to the one person who deserved it the most - herself. She fought valiantly against her demons. In the end, the pain, despair, and fruitlessness she experienced were too heavy. Her wife, family, and friends are heartbroken.

I met Julie through work and we became friends. She moved to Alaska and when it was time for her to move to California, she asked me to make the drive with her. We've kept in touch over the years and recently I edited an article she was hoping to publish. I definitely was not one of her close friends but she made an impact on my life all the same. In her subtle, only-Jules-can-do-it way, she ingrained herself on my heart and in my soul. I hear her laugh. I hear her sarcasm. I feel her support. I wish she could've given herself even an ounce of what she gave out to others.

Today I went on a hike with my roommate. Julie loved to be outside. I felt her with every step I took, with every sound echoing through the canyon, and every breeze. I paused for a moment overlooking the Colorado river and wished for her peace. I hope she's out of pain, happy, and content. And I hope, with every fiber in my being, that those she left behind find comfort while they heal. 

Be kind to one another. Listen. Reach out if you need help. Be receptive to the subtle signs sent your way. Battles are being fought every day. You just may be the one to provide the bit of succor that gives someone the strength to take one more step, one more breath, to live one more day.

Sources:

BestLifeOnline.com

MilitaryTimes.com

Stripes.com

WashingtonPost.com

FactRepublic.com