Written by Alexandra Swift & Tracy McEvoy, with love from Laura Bremer
Before this year, I was never personally affected by suicide – it felt far away. Like something that happens somewhere else, to someone else. Today, I understand how devastating it is to lose someone you love to mental illness. Now it is personal. On March 31, 2022, Matthew Barker McEvoy of Darien, CT took his life after combatting depression. He was only 17 years old.
Matthew was a really beautiful boy. He was a beloved son, brother, teammate, and a loyal and trusted friend to so many – one of these many friends being my younger brother, Oliver. My brother would describe Matthew as the kind of friend who was always easy to be around. He was kind, generous, and he had a clever sense of humor. He was a gifted athlete who could do anything. And he was fearless. But he was also overcome by deep sadness. Matthew felt alone even though he wasn’t. So, while I tell myself that I am running this race for me, I would not be running it without him. And on November 6th, I know I won’t be running alone.
My name is Alexandra Swift, and I am currently 21 years old. Mental illness is an unfortunate everyday reality for too many people, especially among a rising number of teenagers and young adults. I feel passionate about running for the New York chapter of the National Alliance of Mental Illness because, as a college student during the COVID-19 pandemic, I found myself experiencing unfamiliar thoughts of insurmountable anxiety and helplessness due to the extensive lockdowns, social restrictions, and profound periods of loneliness. Mental illness impacts people in different ways, but it is definitely there. And it is rampant.
Even prior to the pandemic, youth suicide was on the rise every year since 2007 (this year also happens to be when the first generation iPhone hit the U.S. market). Suicide is the second leading cause of death among people ages 10 to 24, and the leading cause of death among 14 and 15-year-olds. While the numbers themselves are alarming, the lives they represent seem merely statistical on paper, as it is impossible to conceptualize the impact of suicide without truly feeling the devastation felt by the families, friends, and communities of each tragic loss. Suicide rates aren’t just scary and concerning statistics, these are KIDS.
Since Matthew’s passing, my family and the McEvoys have come to be interconnected in a unique way as we do what we can to support them through the incomprehensible loss of their middle child. Although no words or acts could possibly remedy such tragedy, I am running the New York City marathon in honor of Matthew’s legacy, in hopes that his story lets other young boys and girls combating mental illness know that they are not alone.
My commitment to Matthew is that we will continue to tell his story in order to break down the stigmas around mental health, and to get people talking openly so they understand that it’s ok to not be ok. What is especially important to know about Matthew is that he did not look like a kid in crisis to the casual observer. He seemed to have it all. He was inclusively friendly, athletically gifted, highly intelligent, and profoundly loved. But deep down, Matthew felt alone, and he struggled in silence.
In early summer of 2021, 16-year-old Matthew broke his foot playing in a lacrosse showcase, causing him to sit out during an important recruiting season. He kept his spirits up by lifeguarding, hanging out with friends, and mountain biking as he began to heal. However, he masked his sadness and no one knew the depths of his depression. Junior year of high school came with all the standard stressors, including SAT prep courses, academics, social life, athletics, and the ramifications of COVID. Several triggers occurred that sent him deeper into his silent depression, and he began to outwardly express his feelings in early December and started seeing a therapist for the first time.
I, as his mother, saw Matthew’s depression continue to grow, and by late February he needed something more than just a therapist – he needed medication. The challenge of finding a psychiatrist was greater than expected, and after calling 47 doctors, his one and only appointment was just two days before his death. Throughout the last month of Matthew’s life, we sought every option possible only to find that mental health providers could not meet the demand of those who needed immediate help. Hospitals with psychiatric services were overwhelmed by the number of patients and offered him the option to stay on an emergency room cot in the hallway for 3-5 days until a bed in the observation unit became available – all while experiencing the astronomical, out of pocket costs for long term mental health treatment.
Matthew’s depression started with two days of sadness, which led to 10 days, then to 30 days and longer, until his depression encompassed him to where he could not see himself as good anymore. Matthew’s battle with depression ended after 16 weeks; 4 short months from that early December evening when he first said he needed to see someone.
As Matthew’s friends and family reflect on the joy and light that he brought to the world in his short time here on Earth, the message is consistent to those who are silently struggling – talk to someone. And to everyone in support of Matthew’s legacy and this NYC Marathon initiative: it’s ok to not be ok. One of the hopes for Alex running this marathon is that we may help more teens and young adults understand that suicide is a permanent resolution to a temporary problem. We want people to know it will get better. And more importantly, that each new day brings the promise of hope.
Our fundraising initiative has come to hold significant emotional value to the #21. Matthew has come to be known and remembered as "#21" for his hard work and grit on the lacrosse field. No donation is too small! Consider the difference that $21 can make for kids like Matthew – and how the spirit of #21 has inspired that difference for us.
