Don't jump!

MSNBC.com did an interesting (and rather long) online post today about suicide rates and the current recession. I just finished reading it, and I have the feeling this is going to be one of those things I'll be waking up to think about in the wee hours.
The writer, JoNel Aleccia, examines suicide spikes in a few places where the recession has been longer and stronger than the national average, then looks at the possibility that we're in for an increase in suicide because of the economy. (Whole story here)
Of course, full data won't be in for a couple of years (the most up-to-date figures are as recent as 2006). But the gist is that, despite these spikes, there isn't enough evidence to say that the recession itself is to blame. Maybe some of the recession go-withs--like home foreclosure, bankruptcy and job loss--provide the last straw for already-depressed individuals. But again, you can't just pin everything on the recession.
As an occasional already-depressed individual, this intrigued me. I've certainly felt the despair, shame and anger that go with seeing your spouse downsized. But why would it be worth taking your life? Why?
The easy answer would be that it's not the money. It's the way the money affects you. It's the daily drumbeat of disappointing your kids when they ask for something even as simple as an ice cream or a movie. It's the public shame of seeing your home go for auction, and perhaps hearing malicious or clueless strangers laugh at your distress.
It's the feeling of becoming invisible.
As a work-at-home mother, I'm familiar with this feeling. In America, your job defines you. When you no longer have that corporate-employee stamp of approval, you see your self worth drifting away. Self-employed won't cut it, either. Self-employed gets you asked for your spouse's job info.
Unemployment seemed to be more visible during the Great Depression. You had bread lines, hobos, skinny kids. But because of various reforms from that era, it's less visible now. Is that a good thing?
During my lifetime, attitudes have changed to make the loss of job and money even more unbearable than it might have been in the hippie 60s where I spent my childhood. I've watched as, during the Reagan years, the ultra wealthy and those "masters of the universe" became the most celebrated beings in America. People of lesser means were blamed for their own conditions, told to "take responsibility" for their misfortune.
Weird coincidence: I just started reading The Family: The Secret Fundamentalism at the Heart of American Power, by Jeff Sharlet. I'm not very far into it--only up to the chapter on how the religious right gained traction among power brokers during the bloody battles with organized labor in the 1930s. The pitch to the executives then was that labor strife could be eliminated if only the Christ-led top men of the companies treated employees like children (presumably instead of beating them out of their pay, as was then the custom).
A lot of unions have been busted, in the intervening years. Maybe the corporate honchos took that advice. But if they're the daddies and we're the children, then I think it may be time to call Social Services. Get us a foster family. Because too many children are being booted out the door each day with no coat and no lunch money and no doctor.
So, rather than ruminate on how bad things are, we the already-depressed nation need to take some action. We need to mold society back to suit our own needs. (And why not? It's been done for decades by the other side.)
The way I see it there are two ways to go: Take up the picket sign and the megaphone (or just the regular phone) and do what you can to make things better. Or return to the lazy hippie ways of the '60s. Tune in and drop out, man. Become The Dude.
Now pardon me while I take some time to decide.