WE ONLY TAKE MENTAL HEALTH SERIOUSLY AFTER SOMEONE BECOMES A TRAGEDY.
And honestly, we need to talk about that.
Someone dies by suicide.
Suddenly everyone has something to say.
“I wish they knew how loved they were.”
“I wish they had reached out.”
“I wish I could have helped.”
But what were we doing while they were still here?
We are often much more comfortable mourning someone’s pain…
than sitting with it while it’s happening.
Because grief is easier to understand than someone saying:
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”
Before someone becomes a tragedy, their pain can be inconvenient.
Too heavy.
Too repetitive.
Too uncomfortable.
“They’re always struggling.”
“They need to help themselves.”
“Everyone has problems.”
Then suddenly, after they’re gone:
“We should have talked more about mental health.”
Maybe the question isn’t:
“Why didn’t they ask for help?”
Maybe we should also ask:
“What kind of world did we create where asking for help felt impossible?”
We don’t need to wait for someone to be suicidal before we take their suffering seriously.
We don’t need a diagnosis.
A breakdown.
A hospitalisation.
A suicide attempt.
Or a death.
Pain deserves attention before it becomes an emergency.
And prevention isn’t always dramatic.
Sometimes it’s:
“How are you really going?”
Remembering what someone told you last week.
Checking in again.
Making space for the uncomfortable conversation.
Helping someone find professional support.
Not disappearing because their pain has become difficult to sit with.
Because sometimes the difference isn’t one perfect conversation.
It’s having enough people around you who make you feel:
“My pain matters before it becomes a crisis.”
So yes, talk about suicide.
Talk about mental health.
Learn the warning signs.
Know where to get help.
But don’t wait until someone’s death makes you realise how much they were carrying.
DON’T MAKE SOMEONE’S DEATH THE FIRST TIME THEIR PAIN BECOMES IMPORTANT.
Take people seriously while they’re still here.
That is prevention, too.
We are often better at grieving people than we are at listening to them while they’re alive. After someone dies by suicide, we can suddenly see the warning signs, talk openly about mental health, share resources and tell everyone how loved they were.
Before that point, someone’s suffering can be met with impatience, discomfort, advice, avoidance or “they’ll be okay.”
That doesn’t mean every suicide could have been prevented if someone had simply listened, and we have to be careful not to turn grief into blame.
But it does ask us to look honestly at how we respond when someone is struggling long before it becomes a crisis.
You shouldn’t have to become a tragedy for your pain to become important. Take people seriously when they say they’re not okay. Check in again, not just once. Make it safer to admit you’re struggling without immediately having to reassure everyone that you’re fine.
If someone tells you they’re thinking about suicide, don’t leave them to carry that conversation alone. Listen without judgement, stay with them, and help connect them with professional or crisis support.
Prevention isn’t about finding the perfect words. Sometimes it’s about making sure someone knows their pain matters while they’re still here.
A gentle note on intention This conversation is NOT about blaming individuals, families, loved ones, or people who are struggling. If you or someone you love has been affected by suicide, please know: it is not your fault.
The intention behind this conversation is to look at something bigger: why does society so often take mental health seriously only after a tragedy? what can we do differently to create earlier support, more open conversations, and better prevention before someone reaches crisis point?
This is about collective responsibility, not individual blame.
