Saving Ourselves Means Saving Each Other: A Reflection on Suicide Awareness Month

This month, heartbroken parents testified before Congress about losing their children to suicide. It brought a number of issues to the fore: among them, the despair and loneliness that these children experienced, and that children across the country are experiencing on an ever-increasing basis. This is especially important given the documented phenomenon of The Ripple Effect in its aftermath – one death leads to another. 

As a trained social psychologist, I’ve spent nearly two decades serving as a crisis hotline, peer, and grief counselor for hundreds of people from around the world. I’ve been an outcry witness, held people experiencing suicidal ideation, supported families and communities who have lost loved ones to suicide, and have been the only person who knew where to find the notes my friends left behind because I knew them – and because I knew where I would have left my own. 

The statistics on suicide rates in the US are staggering. At one death every 11 minutes, it is one of the leading causes of death, the rate increasing by 37% in the past 25 years. In 2023, 16.5 million people seriously considered and/or made a plan for how to escape their pain. That same year, 1.5 million people made a documented attempt, with 49,000 people dying, most of them Indigenous Americans and people aged 15-85+. The risk is both evenly and unequally distributed among us all. 

Studies show many suicides are attributed to feels of “dread, despair, loneliness and hopelessness.” Other factors include academic performance, economic standing, financial struggles, and of course, mental health. Another major factor is the nature of the society in which we live, and as a society, we must work intentionally to create a world where we don’t just survive, but thrive. 

To be sure, we are living in a moment where resources like the National Suicide Hotline for LGBTQ+ youth are defunded, reproductive and abortion care are gouged and restricted across the US, and $182 billion dollars per year are ‘invested’ in a sprawling, inhumane mass incarceration system, not to mention the increasing presence of ICE and its ability to surveil and detain those deemed ‘not American enough’.

In my practice as a facilitator and educator, I create and uplift resources, spaces, and programs to support the collective, holistic well-being of my communities and networks. And so, since we cannot rely on our federal government to lead the way, allow me to offer other ways of navigating these challenging times:

• Seek out Mental Health First Aid classes. These classes are available in-person and online. Participants learn how to identify mental health issues and crises, provide initial help and stabilization, and find and contact appropriate resources. The national 998 Suicide and Crisis hotline is also still active.  
• Explore resources like the Open Path Collective, which hosts skilled therapists at sliding scale. They purposefully recruit counselors from diverse backgrounds who are well-versed in both individual mental/emotional conditions, as well as the social conditions that may either help or exacerbate them. 
• Practice learning about and discussing mental/emotional health. I have created a list of media and resources to help begin exploring these topics and be patient; exploring feelings like shame and guilt take time and care.

In a time where ‘Breaking News’ alerts seem to constantly warn of war or deliver another sobering story about gun violence, it is reasonable to be heartbroken and frustrated, to want out.  I understand the pain, the heartbreak, the feelings of despair. I was born as Hurricane Hugo, the first of the superstorms, decimated my island of St. Croix, graduated into two recessions, and have lived my entire life in a world at war, not to mention in the fist of colonization. I’ve also experienced cycles of active and passive suicidal ideation for most of my life. 

At this point, I view it almost as a companion, one I can predict will arrive to spend time with me, sometimes content to quietly observe, and at others, insistent with its purpose – as a warning that I am not the only thing maladapted and unwell. I have suffered greatly, yes, but have been saved by the care of brave, diligent friends, my training and awareness of the resources available to me, and my stubborn insistence on not being beaten by a hostile game I never agreed to play. 

We are not powerless, however. It is important to remember that this is a blink in the eye of human history, that we have agency in how we respond – where we re/direct and pool our attention, effort, care, and skills. Those of us who live, love, and create on the margins of a society that only ever wanted us for the bodies, minds, and spirits it used to build itself know that there are always other paths.

When I reflect on what we can do as a society to address rising rates of suicide, Octavia Butler’s guidance as a skilled, prolific social historian, worldbuilder, and humanitarian ring powerfully true: “There is no magic bullet. Instead, there are thousands of answers – at least. You can be one of them if you choose to be.”