How to Save a Life: We Need to Talk About It

A few years ago, teenagers in my town started dying.

They fell like raindrops.

first

Then another.

And when calls from concerned parents began flooding my phone lines, it was quick and sudden.

I’ve known that for a long time because One of my personal demons will always be part of my private practice, working with suicidal teenagers and their parents, and consulting with school districts to better inform their mental health curriculum.

The last part of my teenage years was filled with anxiety every time I called out if anyone was home and received no answer.

Making plans with my boyfriend and struggling with college applications, I became adept at evolving from a chubby, anxious, undiagnosed ADD teenager into an acutely aware awareness of the danger that lies behind a closed door and the sound of silence might lurk.

A closed door in my house was like a messed up version of a game in progress The price is correct. I never knew what was behind that door. A half-full bathtub? A semi-conscious body? Or maybe an almost empty pill bottle with no one to see.

It was just a matter of doorknob and luck.

But growing up, I became a psychologist who didn’t shudder at the word suicide.

A few years ago I was slapped on the hand for allegedly implied criminal association for using the phrase “committed suicide”.

As if there could be anything worse than someone you love not wanting to live anymore. As if the word “committed” conjured up an association that a legal crime had been committed.

As if a crime against the law could be compared in any way to the death of a loved one.

Rules are rules

We were told not to use the word “suicide.” It was too painful for the family to accept.

Sometimes there was a religious reason. If this death were not a sin, the hereafter would be better than what was endured on earth.

But the loss of a child, and then another child, and then several more—all of whom would resent being called a “child” at the advanced ages of 16, 17, 18, and 20—appeared So far more important than choosing the politically correct language for those stuck in the living world.

May you never know the pain that’s expected to put one foot in front of the other and breathe in and out like the world goes on like this is a natural, painless experience.

Student organizations thrived, and signs of support for those struggling adorned our community and several others nearby. Fundraisers and awareness events, as well as brunches and guest speakers, became local features at city halls and libraries. Schools made plans and paid cash for better plans. The teachers became more educated. Sports teams and religious organizations and the occasional celebrity who had escaped from our small town came forward through their managers and agents.

We mourned whether we had known him or not. Or you. Or the next person to follow suit.

Surround, hug, attack – uh, support

At some schools, counseling and support services stretched out in all directions, covering middle and high school students like supernatural spider webs, as if they could snare “troubled” children and save them from themselves. As if they felt guilty or responsible for the signs they missed.

But to be honest, there were so many of us who spent sleepless nights wondering what we missed and what we could have done differently. The teachers, parents, therapists, and community members spent months doubting and re-watching memories of the last interactions, the last moment when we might have changed something.

Maybe. If only.

Those are the true swear words of mankind. Not the four-letter words we use to punish our children for speaking in public.

The spider web approach should involve and support students. But it had one major downside: high school.

As children grow into teenagers, school evolves from a place of learning among supportive adults to a place of rules and consequences and lessons and pressures—both academic and social.

High school doesn’t feel like a safe place for most teenagers. But there are things we can do to make it better. For example, if school administrators are trained to reduce the stigma of suicide among staff and students, the school becomes a place where students are more likely to be open about their self-harm and suicidal thoughts. This gives depressed teenagers a better chance of getting the help they need.

Mental health with violence?

Other schools took a more patriarchal approach, apparently aimed at identifying and isolating those students the faculty saw as a potential danger to themselves.

Students who have self-harm or confessed to suicidal thoughts (suicidal thoughts), listened to the wrong music, or blinked too quickly… sigh. Who knows. The parameters were never made clear, although the approach had good intentions.

But any student found to be at risk was quickly sent home with instructions that they could not return to school until cleared by an emergency room, doctor or mental health professional. Which… isn’t great.

It is common for suicide to be contagious, particularly in teenagers and 20-year-olds. Some schools decided to tighten the reins on emotionally distressed students and then—I mean, um, strongly encouraged—forced students to provide proof of psychological evaluation and segregate them from their peers until they are medically cleared.

On the other hand, research shows that the contagion effect can be mitigated by psychological debriefing, which is believed to be facilitated by the school’s vigorous approach.

On the other hand, the contagious effect of suicide is also increased by social isolation and increased stigmatization. Many researchers theorize that the increasing stigma surrounding depression and suicide, particularly among minority males, contributes to the rise in suicidal tendencies among African-American male adolescents.

What does all this mean in terms of the “no tolerance” approach taken by some school districts? When we force people struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts to separate from their peers in order to get help as a priority, we isolate them from their friends. This isolation could increase the likelihood of suicide contagion and (because teenagers love to do the opposite of what we tell them to do) increase the likelihood that they will rebel by not seeking help.

So what now?

Minority men are the least likely to seek psychological help.³ Major depression is the “silent killer” among African American men, whether it be death by suicide or death by other self-destructive behaviors. More funding is needed to raise awareness and destigmatize therapy for men in need.

For more information, see the links below:

If you or someone you love is contemplating suicide, seek help immediately. For 24-hour assistance, dial 988 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline or contact the Crisis Text Line by TALKing to 741741. To find a therapist near you, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.