Breaking the Stigma: Suicide Awareness Month
Why I Don’t Believe Suicide Is Selfish
Content note: This post discusses suicide, suicide attempts, bereavement, and suicidal thoughts. Please take care while reading.
If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 999 or go to A&E. In England, you can call NHS 111 and select mental health option 2 for urgent support. You can also call Samaritans free, at any time, on 116 123. Young people under 35, and anyone concerned about them, can contact PAPYRUS HopeLine 24/7 on 0300 102 2470 or text HOPE to 88247.
World Suicide Prevention Day takes place on 10 September. In recognition of it, I want to share my perspective on what it’s like to have a family member survive a suicide attempt.
My hope is to take a small step towards de-stigmatising suicide, highlighting the need for greater understanding and support, and showing the profound impact it can have on loved ones.
Why I Don’t Believe Suicide Is Selfish
The idea that suicide is selfish is something I completely disagree with.
Suicidal thoughts and attempts can arise from unbearable psychological pain, whether that pain has existed for a long time or has been intensified by mental illness and a sudden, severe drop in mood. Someone in that position isn’t necessarily trying to hurt the people who love them. They are trying to find a way out of pain that feels impossible to survive.
People experiencing suicidal thoughts can still care deeply about others. Some believe they are a burden, even when that isn’t true. Hopelessness, trauma, or mental illness can distort someone’s perspective until it feels as though there are no other options, even when help exists.
None of this erases the profound effect a suicide or suicide attempt can have on loved ones. It means we can acknowledge that impact without turning a person’s most painful moment into a judgement of their character.
A Memory That Stays With Me
I remember being on a train to suicide-prevention training for work. The train stopped mid-journey, and a crew member announced that someone had died by suicide, delaying our journey.
A wave of sadness hit me. Then a woman on the train loudly called the person selfish and complained about being late.
I felt frustrated and saddened. Someone had been in so much pain that they had lost their life. Their suffering mattered far more than anyone’s inconvenience.
That moment showed me how misunderstood suicide can be and how urgently we need compassion instead of judgement. It was also deeply triggering because I have come close to losing one of the most important people in my life to suicide more than once.
How It Felt for Me
Knowing that I could have lost someone I love was overwhelming. I’m incredibly grateful that my loved one survived, but the experience brought grief, fear, sadness, numbness, and ongoing waves of anxiety about it happening again.
Supporting someone through this is difficult. It requires patience, compassion, and gentleness towards both your loved one and yourself. Sometimes it can be hard to stay strong when someone you love is in so much pain. It can take a great deal out of you, yet there is often guilt in even admitting that.
The experience changed me, and I don’t think I’ll ever be quite the same. It still affects me deeply. These feelings don’t always surface immediately; sometimes, as they did for me, they appear months or even years later.
All I wanted at the time was a hug and someone to tell me, “It’s going to be okay.” I still sometimes wonder, “Will it be?”
Supporting a Loved One
After my family member’s suicide attempt, I focused on supporting them in ways that may also help others:
Communicating with medical staff, where appropriate, to understand their care.
Visiting and calling to show my presence and concern.
Offering small gestures—flowers, a card, a teddy bear, or something else I knew they would appreciate.
Listening without judgement and giving them space to process.
Reminding them that I loved them and was there for them.
Love and presence matter, but they cannot replace professional care. Family members should not have to carry the responsibility alone, and they deserve support too.
My Own Experience of Suicidal Thoughts
Something I’m not ashamed to admit is that I’ve also experienced moments when life felt unbearably heavy and I had suicidal thoughts.
It isn’t a weakness, and it doesn’t define me. I have never acted on those thoughts, but I have reached out for help, including calling suicide helplines when I felt completely overwhelmed. I’m grateful that I did, because sometimes hearing a kind voice can make all the difference.
What I experienced would be described as passive suicidal thoughts: thoughts of not wanting to live without any intent or plan.
Looking back, I can see that on the same days I felt that way inside, I probably looked fine to everyone else. That’s why it’s so important to be kind—you never know what silent battles someone may be fighting.
When Loss Becomes Hope
I previously worked for a mental health charity, and one of the most memorable people I met through my fundraising role was a father who had lost his daughter and her partner to suicide.
Together, the family raised an incredible amount of money and awareness and supported the charity in other ways. But that isn’t what stayed with me most.
What touched me was how, in their grief, they chose to honour her memory by doing something that could help others. They transformed some of their pain into purpose.
If you ever find yourself in this position, however, please remember that everyone processes grief differently. For some people, taking action or creating something meaningful can be healing. For others, rest, self-care, or quieter forms of processing are just as valid.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
Moving Forward
I hope that, as a society, we can create sensitive and open conversations about suicide. It is not shameful. It deserves understanding, attention, and care.
Someone experiencing suicidal thoughts needs compassion and appropriate support, not condemnation. The people who love them also need somewhere safe to place their fear, grief, and exhaustion.
If you need support:
Immediate danger: Call 999 or go to A&E.
Urgent mental-health support in England: Call NHS 111 and select mental health option 2.
Samaritans: Call 116 123 free, 24 hours a day.
PAPYRUS HopeLine 24/7: Call 0300 102 2470 or text HOPE to 88247. The service supports young people under 35 and people concerned about them.
Suicide is not a moral failing. Behind it is a person in pain, and around that person are others who may be carrying more than anyone can see.
You don’t always know the pain that people carry, please remember to always try to be kind.
