Antionette's Column: Addressing the Taboo topic of suicide

September is National Suicide Prevention Month. A topic most media outlets refuse to cover. A few years ago, I began covering mental health issues and suicide prevention through my role as a producer with The Public News Service.  

Research led me to suicide prevention networks. For the first time, I fully understood the wealth of public-private organizations and associations of agencies, advocates, consumers, professionals, including but not limited to counselors, mental health professionals, physicians, clergy, journalists, social workers, law enforcement as well as survivors and individuals with lived experience. 

I never imagined needing this for my own life and family.

This summer North Carolina launched a universal mental health crisis hotline — 988 — went live across the nation. The idea behind the shift from the 10-digit National Suicide Prevention Lifeline to the three-digit mental health crisis number is that it’s easy to remember, similar to the easy-to-remember 911, and will be the same everywhere.

While suicide prevention is crucial to address year-round, Suicide Prevention Awareness Month provides a dedicated time to come together with collective strength around a sensitive topic. The truth is, we can all benefit from honest conversations about mental health conditions, suicide and knowing a single conversation can change a life before it’s too late.

A few years ago, I lost a family member to suicide. I still toss and turn after watching news stories unfold about the tragedy. Like many family members, I asked “why?” Things seemed perfect from the outside looking into the life of a fun-loving, soul food-lovin, line-dancing side of my dear cousin. In the last year of his life, we went on our first annual cousins’ trip ironically themed “Y.O.L.O.: You only live once.” He even recommended t-shirts with the motto.

The trip was important to me as I was facing some serious medical issues I knew would lead to surgery. My feelings shift from anger, to sadness, to disappointment and sorrow for not knowing my loved one was hurting so deeply. God only knows how much he was hurting. The evening after his memorial services my cousins sat on my back porch where we vowed to talk more about our mental health and to "check-in." We grew up in a family where showing emotions or pain was discouraged. The tragic death of my cousin has taught me to unapologetically accept a place to express my fears, failures and frustrations (writing columns like this helps with healing).

It breaks my heart to know that it’s too late for someone I loved, but now I am committed to awareness and connecting individuals with suicidal intentions to treatment services. 

We can't be afraid to talk about suicide with our loved ones. The media can’t be afraid to share resources.

Also know, there is always someone who does care.