A Tough Subject

This isn’t the post I had planned to share today, but I feel it’s necessary.

This blog won’t always be upbeat, because life isn’t always upbeat. I want to be honest and real with you, even during the hard times—and this is one of those times.

Suicide. It’s a word no one wants to say and no one wants to hear. A topic few want to discuss because of the pain, shame, and vulnerability attached to it. Yet, it’s something we need to talk about. According to the CDC, over 1.6 million suicide attempts occur every year, with more than 50,000 lives lost. And that’s just among adults. Among children and adolescents, the number is even higher—over 2 million attempts—making it the second leading cause of death in that age group.

Thursday morning, my daughter came downstairs to get ready for school, devastated. At first, I assumed it was just the usual teenage drama between friends, but I could tell something was different. She was shaken to her core. Then she said the words no parent wants to hear: My close friend from Texas committed suicide last night.

He had been bullied by the same kids who once bullied my daughter. He finally couldn’t take anymore.

She was grieving the loss of her friend and furious at those who had tormented him. The same people now posting "He didn’t deserve this" on social media—filling her with rage. As her mother, all I wanted to do was shield her from this pain. But I can’t. I can’t protect her from this kind of heartbreak.

We’ve allowed suicide, suicidal ideation, and children's mental health struggles to become far too normalized. That is inconceivable to me. Instead of fostering understanding and support, society often responds with judgment and shame—perhaps because we ourselves are hurt, broken, or struggling to comprehend. From the outside, it makes no sense that someone would see a permanent solution as the answer to a temporary problem. But for those suffering, their minds don’t always process things rationally. They just know they don’t want to feel the heaviness anymore.

I know this feeling. I attempted suicide in my teens. Thankfully, I failed. Life felt too loud, my emotions too extreme, loneliness too constant, and guilt too heavy. In my mind, everyone would be better off without me. I couldn’t see past my failures, my imperfections, or my pain. And to be honest, even now, there are moments when my mind whispers, they’d be better off without you. But I know that isn’t true. I’ve seen the devastation that suicide leaves behind. I’ve seen how deeply it wounds those left to pick up the pieces.

As a mother, I’ve tried to instill kindness and empathy in my children—to teach them to stand up for others, to include the kid sitting alone, to be a friend to those who need one. I’ve also worked hard to keep communication open, setting aside judgment so they feel safe expressing their emotions without fear of punishment. I’m incredibly grateful to have a daughter who is willing to talk to me about how she’s feeling. We’ve had hard, honest conversations about suicide—why, even when it feels like the only option, it isn’t.

Please, check on your children. Make sure they know they can come to you without fear. Check on your friends and family. You never know who is suffering in silence and whose life you might save just by reaching out. And check on yourself. If your mind is racing with negativity, try to create a space—somewhere to place those thoughts when the world feels like too much.

We need to stop being afraid or ashamed to talk about mental health. Progress is happening, but not fast enough. As someone with Bipolar and ADHD, I know the stigma that still surrounds mental health diagnoses. The way these conditions have been portrayed in media has shaped public perception in ways that don’t always reflect reality. When I tell people I have Bipolar, the response is often, But you’re so calm. You don’t seem like you go from angry to happy in an instant. But that’s not what mania and depression look like for me. That’s just how they’ve been sensationalized in books and television.

Some of the people who seem happiest on the outside are the ones suffering the most internally.

It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to need someone to simply listen.

It's okay to not be okay, but please remember—your life holds more value than you may realize. You are needed, you are loved, and you are not alone. No one should have to face life’s battles in isolation. Reach out, speak up, and let others walk beside you.