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Connecting the dots – Special Report (Main story)

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Published: February 10, 2005

FAIRVIEW, Alta. Ñ Students at Fairview College in Alberta’s Peace River country feel comfortable popping into Tom Bidart’s office.

He always leaves his door open and he’s happy to talk to them about the agriculture program he instructs, college happenings or just about anything.

This openness is not just because he’s a nice guy, but because he believes an open door and an open ear could some day make a crucial difference for one of his students: a life-or-death difference.

“I want to be there if I’m needed, and you never know when that will be,” Bidart said in his office as students in the hallway scurried from class to class shortly before Christmas.

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Bidart’s openness is also part of his reaction to a tragedy that is still an open wound for many at Fairview College: a popular 23-year-old alumnus and area farmer, Andy Little, killed himself on a bitterly cold February morning in 2003.

Like many, Bidart is still upset about what happened to a young man he knew well, and he has vowed to do what he can to catch other troubled people before they fall into the same chasm of despair.

“It makes me mad as hell Ñ mad as hell Ñ that I didn’t see it coming,” said Bidart, his voice choking with emotion, as he reviews the warning signs about Little that he thinks he should have seen.

“I thought something didn’t seem right with Andy, but this was a terrible way to find out how bad it was.”

Farmer depression and suicide are little studied subjects in Canada, but across the Prairies health organizations and governments have begun trying to make farm families realize that mental health is a key part of farm life and management.

They hope farmers and their families can understand that problems on the farm can lead some producers beyond simply feeling glum and into the perilous realm of depression that can have fatal consequences if ignored. With agriculture filled with stress Ñ drought, low grain prices, BSE and trade attacks Ñ farmers must be able to identify and understand depression so they can save themselves, family and friends from tragedy.

Depression might pose a bigger threat to farmers than for city people with nine-to-five jobs because farmers are often isolated.

“There is no human resources department for farmers,” said Little’s father Rob, who now devotes a lot of time to peer counselling with the Men at Risk program in Grande Prairie, Alta., which is dedicated to helping farmers and rural men cope with depression.

Rob, who also suffers from depression, is heartsick over his son’s suicide, but he doesn’t avoid it. His work with Men at Risk forces him to think and talk about Andy’s death all the time. It’s a form of self-inflicted torture he’s willing to endure because he hopes he can use his son’s story to stop others from taking the same terrible step.

“We only connected the dots afterward, and I don’t want other people to have to do that,” Rob said in Grande Prairie, where he now lives.

By accounts, Rob and Andy were alike. Rob is gregarious, with a quick, infectious laugh that makes him easy to like. It’s hard to believe that he suffers from depression.He is a guy you’d talk to about your problems. You wouldn’t expect him to have the problem.

He discovered he suffered from depression only a few years ago, when he couldn’t face the enormity of harvesting his 2,500 acres of crops one fall. In despair, he ran to a neighbour for help Ñ and he went to see a doctor.

That was the turning point. The doctor diagnosed Rob’s depression, got him onto medication and made him re-evaluate his behaviour.

“He said, ‘Rob, you take on things until you’re up to your nose. Then all of a sudden problems crop up and you’re way over your head,’ ” recounted Rob.

Barb Campbell, who oversees Men At Risk, said men are at greater risk for suicide than women because women are more willing to discuss their problems and admit they need help. Among men, farmers sometimes are the least likely to easily talk about their problems.

“They are expected to buck up, get through it, maintain that role, be the provider,” Campbell said.

“They’re not supposed to show signs of weakness.”

This is borne out by recent statistics that show 10 times as many men as women die from suicide between 2001 and 2003 in the area. Three times as many women than men go to the doctor to report a mental health problem.

The stigma about asking for help may have overwhelmed Andy, whose farm responsibilities might have been too much for a 23 year old.

“Andy was a young, single man running a lot of cattle,” said Rob. He had about 200 cows, a hog barn, 1,700 acres of land and a single hired hand.

“As a farmer you’re supposed to be professional at everything. You’re supposed to know how to finance it all, to be an agronomist, to be a mechanic. You’re supposed to be computer literate, you’re supposed to be a livestock specialist.”

Rob, who had recently given up farming because of the stress, encouraged Andy to consider a less stressful career. But Andy wanted to be a farmer and a cowboy. He thought he could handle anything.

” ‘Just cowboy-up’ Ð that’s an expression Andy used all the time,” Rob said.

“That’s what it’s all about. Are you big enough and tough enough?”

That winter was brutally cold. Andy had trouble keeping the cattle in condition and some became sick. Then they began to die.

The farm meant so much to him he probably couldn’t separate its problems from feelings of hopelessness about life.

“He loved livestock. He loved the rodeo stuff. Depression? It wouldn’t have been on his radar,” Rob said.

At some point Andy appears to have despaired and, early one morning, killed himself. No one knows exactly what pushed him over the edge. But Rob has no doubt.

“Depression is lethal, absolutely lethal.”

Counsellors at the Manitoba Farm and Rural Stress Line have the same appreciation of depression’s deadly threat. That’s why they staff the phones all week, hoping to catch depressed people before it’s too late. Most suicides can be avoided if a depressed person can talk to someone who cares.

“Most people don’t want to kill themselves. They want the pain to go away. That’s a big difference,” said counsellor Kim Moffat.

Fellow counsellor Wynn Collier said getting a farmer to talk about his problems is often difficult, but friends and family need to be persistent.

“It’s going to take some time to elicit. It’s asking the right questions a lot of times,” Collier said.

It may be simply asking how he is doing and showing interest.

“Their focus has become so narrow that they don’t even realize they could talk to someone about it.”

That’s why the majority of calls to the Manitoba rural stress line are from worried family and friends, not from depressed farmers.

“The chances of someone going to seek help when they are depressed are slim,” Moffat said.

“You have to be paying attention.”

That’s Rob’s main message.

“You need to ask some questions,” he said.

“You are your brother’s keeper.”

Campbell said friends and families of men in trouble can help by getting them in contact with counsellors at programs like Men At Risk.

“They’ll talk to someone who’s been there, done that, lived it,” Campbell said.

“You don’t need to be the expert.”

Each case is different, but most people who begin to suffer depression show odd changes in behaviour.

“You’re looking for noticeable changes in behaviour, attitude. They may sound hopeless about life,” Campbell said.

Bidart noticed strange changes in Andy in the weeks before he killed himself. Andy used to get along with everybody and didn’t lose control. But at a dance that winter Bidart saw a different Andy: unpleasant, belligerent, drinking too much.

Bidart thought little about it, which is why he was shocked when Andy killed himself. He is incensed with himself for missing the signs.

Like Rob, he wants to stop such tragedies. That’s why he recently revised his turfgrass management technology program curriculum, expanding it from nine sections, all technical and practical, to 10 sections. The 10th one is called Dealing With Adversity in the Workplace and prepares students to deal with the human vulnerabilities of employees and co-workers.

“That’s an area of management that we’re just beginning to understand in our society,” Bidart said.

It’s an attempt to make program graduates the kind of people who will notice those having personal struggles and step in to help before tragedy strikes.

It’s too late to save Andy, but not too late to save many others.

About the author

Ed White

Ed White

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