Last month suicide took a prominent place across the news cycle when we learned of the death Stephen Bass, who most of the world knew by the name tWitch. The response to his death is both eye-opening and predictable, and I’m writing to all of you because I have to confess that I’ve been on both sides of this response. Until recently, when I chose to join The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation, I used to think about the same lies of suicide that you’re hearing and seeing across social media and articles right now:
He was selfish.
He wasn’t thinking about his family.
He had so much going for him.
No one could have seen this coming.
I’d like to think that these responses actually come from a place of hope – that we feel so strongly about death by suicide precisely because we all intrinsically believe that suicide can be prevented; that it is not some inevitability that strikes randomly. One of the things I’ve learned since joining The Foundation is suicide can be prevented – just not always in the way that I used to think about it.
The truth is that when it comes to mental health, a lot of our responses push the responsibility of care back on the person who is struggling. Maybe that myth comes from the sense that it is harder to see mental health problems; there isn’t a scan or an x-ray or a cast that people walk around with. Instead, they smile. They have great jobs. Apparently idyllic lives. But those thoughts come from our assumptions about them, not who they actually are, and not what they are actually dealing with.
At The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation, we do not believe that the primary preventer of suicide should be the person who is struggling. It is our responsibility as a community to surround those who need help, who are in the midst of believing the lies that suicide tells, and connect them with the help that they need and the truth that they often cannot see.. We don’t expect cancer patients to treat themselves; we don’t expect someone with a broken arm to make their own cast. Moreso, we don’t expect them to drive to the hospital alone or tell them “I’m not a doctor” if they tell us they think their arm may be broken. At The Foundation, we believe it is critical for our communities to begin solving mental health in that way – one where the focus of prevention is on those who are not struggling, so that they can find peace and hope.
It is also important to note no single person, organization, or mental health resource should or can take suicide prevention on alone. It takes a community to save a life, and The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation invites you to take the first proactive and intentional step to join this community and save the life of someone you care about. The Foundation has a program called QPR (Question, Persuade, and Refer) that trains you how to reach out to those around you. The truth is that people who are struggling don’t tend to say anything – but they often want to: we see examples where people hint at or drop subtle clues in conversation or on social media hoping that someone - you - will have the courage and bravery to say something - to see through their subtle cries for help and say: “I see you. I care about you.” We can help you not only bring the conversation to light, but teach you how to carry it on and help dispel the lies of suicide.
If you are already a mental health warrior, thank you for all that you are doing to prevent tragedy in our community. If you’re ready to join us, you can use the link below to sign up for QPR training (there is no cost) and save a life.
-Matt Vereecke, CEO
