What I Learned About How To Prevent Suicide

All people deserve hope, knowledge, tools, a sense of community and access to care to recover from trauma. We should demand hope. We should expect recovery.

According to the National Institute for Mental health, 41,000 people take their lives every year. It is said for every suicide, eight people are profoundly affected. That’s hundreds and thousands of people coping with the same thoughts I had after my husband ended his life—what is my response to my loved one’s suicide? How do I go on? What part did I play in my loved one’s decision to end his or her life?

Shame and stigma regarding suicide is a choice. So is choosing to live more honestly, more openly, and engaging in the fight for those living with mental illness. I made the latter choice, and I’ve devoted a large chunk of my journalistic career attempting to understand bipolar disorder, depression, and suicide.

Suicide is regrettable, and a common endpoint for many patients with bipolar disorder. At least 25% to 50% of patients with bipolar disorder attempt suicide at least once. My husband David didn’t have suicidal thoughts (or at least he didn’t share them) until a well-meaning physician friend prescribed him anti-depressants. He’d called his friend because he wasn’t sleeping well, he’d become increasingly irritable and felt unwilling and unable to run his high-end remodeling and commercial construction business.

Two days after taking the anti-depressant, David stood at the kitchen sink and said flatly, “I’m hearing voices.” He was diagnosed later with bipolar II, and his treating psychiatrist said the anti-depressants likely tipped David into his first manic episode.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have managed David’s care differently.

1. I would have arranged for a private psychiatric exam, regardless of David’s insistence that he was “fine.”
2. I would have assembled a group of family members, friends, and co-workers who loved David and could be with him for round the clock care.
3. I would have arranged for one of David’s trusted co-workers to take over the business of his company. (Financial loss is often cited as one of the most common suicidal triggers for males.)
4. I would have arranged for in-home therapy with a behavioral therapist skilled in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, or Mindfulness-based Cognitive Therapy.
5. I would have created a schedule of nutritious meals, nature walks, massage and yoga to help calm David’s mania.
6. I would have asked for a leave of absence from work to manage David’s care.

I have offered this advice to several friends whose husbands, sons or boyfriends are suffering from suicidal thoughts. So far, the outcome has been overwhelmingly positive. It is time-consuming, yes. It is extremely expensive to employ a small platoon of people to help. But, with proper medication, time, therapy and support, recovery is possible. We should demand it.

Recovery was once a radical idea. But, no longer. If we stand by those who need us, see hope where others see despair and provide the type of trauma-informed care that takes into consideration the whole person, we can make recovery the expectation for every person struggling with a brain illness. All people deserve hope, knowledge, tools, a sense of community and access to care to recover from trauma.

We should demand hope. We should expect recovery. Nothing less than life will do.