I was honored to offer a TEDx talk this past year in Boca Raton, Florida. It's entitled "How to recognize perfectly hidden depression," and in it, I describe clients I've seen who'd never have seemed depressed to anyone around them. Two in particular are featured: one tried to take her life; the other came in well before that happened, but admitted he'd also had thoughts about doing the same. Having thoughts about wishing for the end of your life is much more common than many people realize—and we, as a culture, need to talk about those thoughts with one another much more transparently. Without judgment.
It's also imperative that those with an intent to die by suicide should get the help they desperately need. Yet the distinction between having thoughts about it and having a suicidal plan to carry it out is vital to understand. The first is a conversation; the second requires immediate action by whatever mental health provider or family member is told.
Suicide rates are skyrocketing, and those thoughts must be taken very seriously.
But if we don't feel safe to reveal such thoughts, how are those conversations ever going to happen?
Comments from several readers caught my attention. Basically, they responded, "People tell us now that it's OK to talk about being significantly depressed. We see commercials all the time about it. But just try it. It still freaks people out." Or something to that effect.
I don't disagree. It will still freak out some people. Or some may still have a very hurtful, condescending response—something like, "How could you be so selfish?"
So I wanted to focus on two aspects of talking about emotional pain, even suicidal thoughts, that would hopefully lead to a safer conversation.
First, picking "who" you choose as a listener.
And then "how." Let me give an analogy.
Imagine two people sitting on either side of a long park bench. One is sniffling a little, looking sad. Wiping tears away. The other is extremely upset, sobbing. Which person do you think the average passerby might approach?
It's the first one. Why? Two reasons: Because there's some sense of knowing that the "quietly crying" person isn't completely falling apart, that they can calm themselves. And, two, because the passerby feels their empathic skills are adequate to help. It's a match.
Yet, many people who are impulsive or have trouble calming themselves—and who may be struggling with destructive feelings—will answer that first question by saying, "Oh, the average person would approach the second person"—and are shocked when I offer my answer.
If you're trying to talk to someone who's highly distraught about emotional pain and suicide, and you haven't been trained on how to do that—how to help them ground themselves, for example—then that conversation is not likely to go well or be helpful to anyone. And most people will avoid what they don't understand or feel competent to handle.
This isn't saying that, therefore, you shouldn't talk about it. But choosing who to talk to and how to do it is very important to ensure that you feel understood and accepted, rather than judged.
That doesn't mean that there aren't others who can listen and help. We can't all go to therapists for various reasons. And, yet, it's so important to not feel alone.
If you or someone you love is contemplating suicide, seek help immediately. For help 24/7, dial 988 for the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, or reach out to the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741. To find a therapist near you, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.
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