Campaign For Living Joyfully

‘ Don’t isolate yourself ’, she said. ‘ I won’t ’, I promised. I didn’t know what she meant.  I even felt it as a reprimand, as if she was telling me off for lazily staying on the couch all day. I had friends for goodness’ sake. I saw people at work, in church, I had a house full of kids and their school mates, students, and a family of relatives and in-laws. Of course I wasn’t isolating myself. That was 8 years ago for me, right before I tried to take my own life. I got the help and support I needed, and I’m happy that now I’m flourishing, enjoying life and its ups and downs. However, this week, heartbreakingly [April 2024] , a friend and colleague of ours lost her battle with suicide. It’s 3am as I’m writing, it’s difficult to sleep as I reflect on her life, her loss, and what she might be teaching me. In remembering her life with sadness, I realise now that she was a masterclass in isolation. To my knowledge she never said that she was thinking about suicide. But then agai...

When we see someone starving, we know they need food. When someone is homeless, we know they need four walls and a roof. When someone is ill, we know they need a doctor. The signs of starvation, homelessness and sickness are mostly obvious. We must and we want to help feed the hungry, house the homeless and heal the sick. The need is great and it’s easy to feel like we can do something tangible and immediate to help: add an extra can of beans in the supermarket donation box, serve at the soup kitchen, sponsor a child. Those needs make sense to us. We can see them. We know how to respond and we feel good about doing so.  But what if the need is less obvious, what if someone needs help coping with thoughts of suicide? Would I notice? Would you? And if we did, what on earth would we do? It’s not quite so obvious is it. As a suicide survivor myself, and now as a suicide prevention trainer, I hope I can help shed some light. Firstly, we know there’s a need. It still appalls me...