You rarely see me post about suicide prevention, and there’s a reason for that. I focus on what I know intimately: helping those of us who are surviving the unthinkable loss of someone we love to suicide. Because that’s the reality I wake up to every single day.
This might be difficult to hear, but I don’t believe suicide is as preventable as we’ve been told. If intervention is possible, it should never fall on the person who is struggling the most. But here’s what makes this even more complex and heartbreaking:
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Think about that for a moment. This can happen to anyone, even you. You might believe it could never be you, but I have learned the hard way that mental health crises can happen without warning. In those times, the person you care about is no longer in control.
I join suicide awareness campaigns not because I believe in neat prevention formulas, but because we desperately need to shatter the stigma that’s killing people twice over.
When you call someone who died by suicide “selfish,” you’re not just wrong, you’re driving a knife deeper into every survivor who loved them. When you whisper about parents who “should have known” or friends who “missed the signs,” you’re building your judgment on nothing but myths and misunderstanding.
You want to help? Stop looking for someone to blame and start learning how mental illness actually works. It’s not about weakness or selfishness or not trying hard enough. It’s about brains that betray the people we love.
Maybe the most powerful thing you can do is simply be present with the people in your life. Not trying to fix them. Not waiting for warning signs. Just being there, loving them, showing up consistently.
Maybe that presence will save a life. Maybe it won’t. But it will matter to them, and to you when you’re looking back, knowing you loved them the best way you could.
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