Reflections as Suicide Prevention Month Comes to an End

As September comes to an end, I want to talk about a really hard subject: suicide. September is Suicide Prevention Month, and this has been on my heart all month long.

Losing someone to suicide is a horrific thing to walk through, and it happens to you out of nowhere. No one asks for it, and I think many people never even imagine it could happen to them. I for one didn't. I remember being around nine years old and wondering what I would do when someone close to me died, but I had no idea that at 23 I would be forever changed.

I've shared a little about Austin, my on-and-off boyfriend of six years through our late teens and early twenties, who took his own life at 21. There were a number of things going on that led to that moment, and some days it still takes my breath away. I'm transported right back to finding out he had died, and I wouldn't wish that debilitating grief on anyone.

I don't think I've ever had suicidal ideation, but since losing Austin, I've thought about death more than I ever did before. Thoughts like:

Maybe dying would be better. I wouldn't have to feel this if I wasn't alive.
All of my problems would go away if I wasn't here.
Why am I here? This life is hard.
If he did it, couldn't I?
What makes me different, that I wouldn't take my own life?

Right after losing him, those thoughts really scared me. I judged them, and I was so critical of myself for even thinking that way. The truth is, toxic positivity won't think you out of those thoughts.

People usually mean well when they say things like "Just let it go," "You can't think about stuff like that," "Just give it to God," or "I don't know why you think like that, it's not helpful," but those words rarely help.

If you've never walked through a season of all-consuming depression or anxiety, it's hard to understand the battle that goes on in someone's mind and body while their soul aches for a way out. Those who take their own life can't see a way out. There is one, but there's never an easy equation, and it looks different for everyone.

What has comforted me most is realizing I'm not the first person to feel this way, and the Bible doesn't hide it. Moses asked God to take his life when the weight of leading Israel became too much (Numbers 11:15). Job wished he had never been born, and Jonah told God it would be better for him to die than to live (Jonah 4:3). But the one I keep coming back to is Elijah.

Elijah had just watched God send fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, one of the biggest moments of his life. Then Queen Jezebel threatened to kill him, and he ran into the wilderness, sat down under a broom bush, and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, LORD," he said. "Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors." — 1 Kings 19:4 (NIV)

Look at how God responded. He didn't lecture Elijah, tell him he shouldn't think that way, or tell him to just give it to Him. He let him sleep and sent an angel with food and water, and when Elijah lay back down, the angel came a second time: "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you." — 1 Kings 19:7 (NIV). Before God said anything about what came next, He took care of Elijah's tired body and weary heart. When He finally did speak, it wasn't in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in a gentle whisper.

That gives me so much hope, because it tells me God isn't afraid of our darkest thoughts and doesn't shame us for them. Even when other voices are ringing louder, and sometimes we can't control that, He is patient with us and meets us right where we are.

I don't talk about Austin as much as I used to, but a few years ago in therapy, I realized something that has been really hard for me to navigate: even though I lost someone to suicide, that isn't the end of my story. His life ended, but mine didn't. That was hard for me to understand, and honestly, it still is at times. I think it's hard for a lot of survivors.

Loving and losing Austin is such an important part of my story, and it has shaped who I am today. I'll always carry him and our memories with me, but it's a part of my story, not the whole thing. I don't want to just focus on his death when I think of him. I want to remember his life, and because of that, I want to live mine fully, even though some days that's really hard.

This month, I've been reminded of how many people carry this quietly. A couple of women I know shared posts about walking through seasons of wanting to end their lives, when it got so dark they didn't feel like there was a way out. Thankfully, both of them have amazing testimonies and are still here today, doing so much better, even though they still have hard days from time to time. We all do. Then last week, I saw that a young woman, a recent A&M graduate and veterinarian, had taken her own life, and it broke me. I immediately started to cry. Why couldn't she get help? How much was she hurting that no one had a clue? My heart aches for her family and friends walking through the pain of losing her this way.

Suicide is the 11th leading cause of death in the United States. It took the lives of more than 49,000 people in 2023, and it's the second leading cause of death for people ages 10 to 34. Men die by suicide nearly four times as often as women. I just want that to sink in.

Behind every one of those numbers is a family, a circle of friends, and a community whose lives will never be the same. There is still so much stigma around suicide, around those left behind, and around a grief that is completely different from any other.

I don't know what the answer is to fewer suicides in this world. I do know that the world needs more Jesus, and I think we need to be kinder. We need to step in and help others when they need us, build each other up instead of tearing each other down, and think twice before we say or comment something. We need to be like Jesus, not scream Jesus at others. We also need better help. Care can be really expensive and hard to find, and that needs to change. 

Still, please don't let that keep you from reaching out, because it was in therapy that I realized my story wasn't over.

We need each other. If you're the one having thoughts about not being here anymore, I know there are so many layers to it. You're not alone, and evil does not win, please seek help. You’re not alone, and you are so loved.

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." — Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

If you're struggling, please reach out to someone you trust, or call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.