CORONAVIRUS (COVID-19) RESOURCE CENTER Read More
Add To Favorites

After his son’s suicide, Orlando lawyer copes through a podcast | Commentary

Orlando Sentinel - 10/24/2019

Marshall and Debbie Adler stood over their son's gravesite last July and knew they had a decision to make.

They could let his suicide ruin their lives. Or they could try to make some good come from it.

"Let's take a vote," Marshall told Debbie.

It was unanimous. They would make their lives a legacy to Matt Adler by helping people tangled up in the fight that claimed his life.

Like many of us, Marshall Adler didn’t comprehend how mysterious and prevalent suicide is. The rate for Americans ages 10 to 24 climbed 56% between 2007 and 2017, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

It's the 10th-leading cause of death in the U.S., and the second-leading cause for people ages 15 to 24.

In Orange, Seminole and Osceola counties, 255 people committed suicide in 2018. That’s more than double (127) the number of people who were murdered.

As sad as such numbers may make us, they can't truly hit home until you get a call from a coroner and the statistic is a person you loved.

"It is horrific," Adler said.

The pain has turned the 63-year-old Orlando attorney into a crusader driven by two questions. Why do people kill themselves and what can be done about it?

Experts point to depression, social fragmentation, cyberbullying and other factors. Suicide strikes all ages, races and demographics.

Globe-trotting celebrity Anthony Bourdain had little in common with, say, a West Virginia miner who took his life because of financial difficulties, but both could be classified as “deaths of despair.”

What would make so many people give up all hope?

Adler compares it to a jigsaw puzzle and someone dumping a huge pile of pieces on a table. He may figure out only part of the stack, "but I’m going to keep on trying to make them fit.

One way is by confronting a subject many would rather avoid. As a lawyer, Adler is adept at talking and digging for clues.

He figured those skills might work well in a podcast. Adler pitched that idea to VoiceAmerica.com. The internet talk radio distributor agreed to a 13-week series that began last month.

It's called "What My Son's Death by Suicide Taught Me About Life."

Some friends of Adler's were shocked by the name.

"Are you crazy?" they'd ask.

They thought the S word would turn people away. But Adler knew those affected by suicide want to face the topic.

It's too early to gauge its impact, but VoiceAmerica told Adler the podcast has quickly garnered thousands of listeners around the world. It's offered him a 52-week series when the current series ends.

"Son of a gun," Adler said. "More people are affected by this show than I'd ever hoped for."

He usually interviews a family member of someone who committed suicide. Everyone's story is unique, though listeners invariably find common threads.

They can all relate to the story Adler told about his son. Matt Adler was sensitive, smart and loved movies.

He was diagnosed with depression in his early teens. He coped with it through therapy and medication and chased his dream of becoming a movie director.

That pursuit took him to San Diego, where he studied film and was cracking into the industry.

He called home every day and would talk about anything and everything. About three years ago, he stopped taking his anti-depressants.

The drugs “made him feel fuzzy and forgetful,” Adler said.

His parents objected, but now they understand. Marshall equates Matt's depression to an incurable brain cancer.

"I think Matt always knew he was likely to live a short life," Marshall said. "He said, 'I want to make the most of this as long as I'm here.'"

He was vibrant and productive without the medicine, and it was easy to hide his inner struggles. Matt came home last July to say goodbye to his grandmother, who was going into hospice.

When his father took him to the airport, Matt said he'd never been happier. Then they hugged goodbye.

Thirteen days later, Matt died of asphyxiation in his apartment. He was 32 years old.

Could anything have prevented it, or the 129 people who commit suicide every day in America?

"I don't know what the answers are," Adler said. "But I know what we're doing as a society isn't working."

So he plans to devote his life to the puzzle of suicide, hoping the pieces he gathers will somehow fit.

dwhitley@orlandosentinel.com

___

(c)2019 The Orlando Sentinel (Orlando, Fla.)

Visit The Orlando Sentinel (Orlando, Fla.) at www.OrlandoSentinel.com

Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.