We’ve all heard it.
“Suicide is selfish.”
“What about everyone you’re leaving behind?”
“They aren’t thinking about anyone but themselves.”
But honestly, if you’ve ever been in that place, you know it can feel like the exact opposite.
When someone is experiencing suicidal thoughts, the goal often isn’t “I want to hurt everyone around me.” It’s “I need this pain to stop.”
Sometimes it’s “Everyone would be better off without me.”
Sometimes it’s “I am such a burden, and I don’t know how to keep doing this.”
That distinction matters.
Because suicidal thoughts don’t always look the way we expect them to. Feelings aren’t always visible. Sometimes they are buried so deeply that even the people closest to us have no idea what is happening underneath the surface.
And when those feelings finally start rattling the chains and making their way out, our protective parts can step in and say, “I know how to make you stop feeling this way.”
It can feel like an escape.
Not because someone doesn’t love their family.
Not because they don’t care who they leave behind.
But because, in that moment, the pain has become so consuming that the brain can have a hard time seeing any other way out.
There is an incredible amount of stigma surrounding suicide, much of it rooted in old societal and cultural beliefs. But what if we started looking at it differently?
What if we stopped treating people who die by suicide as though they did something wrong?
Even the language we use matters. The phrase “committed suicide” carries the implication of committing an offense or a crime. More and more, we use the phrase “died by suicide” because it recognizes the person rather than reducing their death to an act they “committed.”
People who die by suicide deserve dignity, compassion, and humanity, just like people who die from any other cause.
And yes, their deaths hurt.
They can tear families apart. They can leave behind questions that may never have answers. They can burn and cut so deeply that the people left behind carry that pain for the rest of their lives.
But prevention begins when we are willing to understand that suicidal thoughts are not always about wanting to die.
Sometimes they are about desperately wanting to stop hurting.
So think about this.
If someone you love told you they were thinking about killing themselves, what would your first reaction be?
Would it be shock?
Horror?
Fear?
Anger?
Would you immediately tell them to think about their family? Would you tell them how much they have to live for? Would you become uncomfortable and try to shut the conversation down?
Those reactions are understandable. We love people, and the thought of losing them is terrifying.
But now think about what those reactions might communicate to the person sitting in front of you.
I just burdened them, too.
I shouldn't have said anything.
They don't understand.
Maybe I really am a burden.
And that is one of the reasons people stop talking about mental health.
Prevention isn't just knowing the warning signs.
Prevention is creating a world where someone can tell you they aren't okay without immediately being met with shame, judgment, fear, or dismissal.
Prevention is understanding that someone may experience pain in a way you have never experienced yourself and being willing to sit with them in that place anyway.
As clinicians, we also know that suicidal thoughts can exist on a spectrum.
Have you ever thought, “I wish I could just go to sleep and not wake up?”
Have you ever imagined what would happen if you just disappeared for a while?
Have you ever had a fleeting thought while driving about what would happen if you suddenly turned the wheel?
These thoughts can exist in more people than we realize. What differs is the frequency, intensity, intent, circumstances, and the ways people cope with those thoughts.
And this is why we need to talk about it.
Not because talking about suicide causes it.
Because talking about it can make someone feel less alone.
So if you are reading this and you recognize yourself in these words, please hear this:
You are seen.
You are heard.
You are loved.
We understand that sometimes you don't necessarily want your life to end. You just desperately need the pain to stop.
And there are other ways to make the pain stop.
There are choices you may not be able to see right now.
There are people who will sit with you in the darkness until you can see them again.
There is help.
You do not have to figure it all out tonight.
And if you are the person someone comes to when they are hurting, you don't have to have the perfect words.
You just have to be willing to stay.
Listen.
Ask.
Don't judge.
Don't panic.
And don't make them feel like their pain is something they have to hide to protect you.
Sometimes prevention starts with something as simple as making it safe for someone to say,
“I don't want to die. I just don't know how to keep living like this.”
And instead of answering with fear, we answer:
“Okay. I'm here. Let's figure out what comes next together.”
