Christine Marie

Every year on Suicide Prevention Day, I see the same posts scroll past my feed: turquoise and purple ribbons, statistics, a reminder that “you are not alone.” And while those things matter, I’ve learned firsthand that awareness is only the beginning.

Prevention is something far harder – and far braver.

Every 40 seconds, someone in the world dies by suicide. Every 11 minutes in the U.S. alone. But statistics are cold until they sit at the edge of your own bed, whispering four simple words.

Two years ago, my daughter – just 13 at the time – walked into my bedroom, tears streaming down her face, and whispered: “Mom, I need help.”

Those four words saved her life.

It wasn’t the hospital stay. It wasn’t the medication, or the endless battles with insurance. And it certainly wasn’t me having all the right answers or knowing what to ask.

It was her. A terrified, brilliant, hurting teenager who somehow found the extraordinary courage to speak when silence would have been easier.

For those of you who know me, or who have read my posts, you know my daughter’s story. You know her courage, her joy, her beauty – how she has chosen to navigate her mental health in the light, when so often, the world insists it be kept in the dark.

What I’ve also learned from my incredible daughter in the years following, is that this isn’t just a parenting lesson. It’s a human one.  

Because the truth is, mental health struggles don’t stop at the walls of our homes. They sit quietly beside us in the office, across from us in meetings, at family gatherings, in our communities. Sometimes they’re hidden behind humor, busyness, or silence. Sometimes they’re right there, but we’re too uncomfortable – or too uncertain – to speak up.

And that’s the hard part about prevention. It isn’t just about statistics or a ribbon one day a year. It’s about being willing to notice, to ask, to act – not just in our homes, but in our workplaces, our friendships, our communities.

When someone has knee surgery, we send a card. When a child is diagnosed with cancer, we rally with casseroles and meal trains. But when it comes to mental health? We lower our voices. We whisper in office hallways and on neighborhood walks, quietly passing along updates on someone’s “recovery,” as though it’s a secret that shouldn’t be spoken too loudly.

We would never expect someone with a broken bone to hide their pain or apologize for seeking help. So why the hell do we still do it with mental health?

Don’t get me wrong – we have come a long way. But we still treat suffering as something that belongs in the shadows. And that silence, that secrecy, is what allows shame to grow. And shame is what keeps people from speaking the words that could save their life.

As I said – awareness is easy. Action is harder.

Recently, my workplace announced a partnership with The Stress Management Society to train Mental Health Champions and called for volunteers. I raised my hand immediately. After all, I’ve spent years in therapy alongside my daughter. I’ve heard the questions. I know the signs.

Or so I thought.

During one session, our instructor – a former corporate finance professional who left his career after losing someone to suicide – shared a moment that stopped me cold. We had been discussing a recent event, and it was clear that it had touched a colleague deeply. Now, instead of asking that colleague to share his thoughts about it, or how he felt, the instructor simply asked four words: “What do you need?” 

The colleague – who, to me, had seemed perfectly “fine” – went silent. For a long time. Every instinct in me wanted to fill the space, to give him a way out of the discomfort. But the instructor held steady. And so did the rest of us.

And then he broke.

His shoulders slumped. Tears welled and spilled. His face, stoic only a moment before, was suddenly raw with anguish – anguish he had clearly been carrying alone. And I hadn’t seen it. None of us had.

It wasn’t “How are you?” or “You’re not alone” that reached him. It wasn’t “You can talk to me” or “I’m here for you.” Don’t misunderstand me, those phrases matter, but they’re familiar – platitudes we’ve all heard before. What broke through was those simple words: “What do you need right now?”

Later, he admitted that no one had ever asked him that before. That single, direct question, from someone who actually cared about the answer, cut past the surface in a way nothing else could. It met him exactly where he was – in that moment, in that pain.

And in that moment, I also learned something: everyone needs to be asked – and asked well.

As I’ve said, I’ve spent years in therapy, and I’m now “trained” as a Mental Health Champion – and I still don’t have all the answers. But what I do have are a few tools I can share, because it’s not just my responsibility. It’s all of ours. We each have a role to play in asking the questions, in pulling mental health out of the shadows and into the light.

Practical Tools You Can Use

• Well-being GPS – A simple but powerful mental “navigation” tool. Start a check-in with: “On a scale from 6-17 (yes, pick random numbers), how are you doing today?” Then ask: “What would make that number go up just one point?” Use that to guide how you listen and follow up.
• I.D.E.A.L.S Model – A step-by-step guide for meaningful check-ins:
  • Initiate the conversation
  • Discover how they feel
  • Empathize
  • Ask how you can help
  • Listen actively, and most importantly
  • Signpost to support when needed – guiding someone toward the right help or resources without trying to be the expert or fix it yourself. Think of it like pointing them in the right direction on a map:
    • Sharing information about professional resources (EAP, counselor, GP, therapist, crisis line).
    • Suggesting community or workplace supports (HR, Mental Health Champions, peer networks).
    • Offering to help make the connection (“Would you like me to sit with you while you call?” or “I can walk with you to HR if that helps”).

Questions to ask everyone (not just those that seem “off”)

• “I’ve noticed you don’t seem quite yourself. What would help right now?”
• “Imagine your stress as a bridge. How loaded is that bridge right now? What would lighten the load? What would cause the bridge to break?”
• “How would you like things to be different?”
• “No pressure, I just want you to know I’m here – what do you need?”
• “I’m here to listen, even if that means sitting quietly together.”
•  “I can’t fix it, but I’ll walk it with you.”

If you are the one struggling: I hope you can find the courage my daughter found. I know how impossible it feels. Silence is so much easier. But please – say the words: “I need help.”

They may be the bravest, most important words you ever speak.

And if someone is brave enough to say them to you: don’t look away. Don’t minimize. Don’t try to fix it. Just stay. Listen. Love.

Will it feel uncomfortable? Absolutely. You’ll worry about saying the wrong thing, or intruding, or making it worse. But here’s the truth: silence never saved anyone. Awkward words spoken in love are infinitely better than the perfect words left unsaid.

Because at the end of the day, mental health isn’t a “them” issue. It’s an all of us issue. It’s your children, your mother, your brother, your friend, your colleague. It’s you. It’s about finding the courage not to turn away. It’s about asking the questions that matter and choosing to show up, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Real prevention isn’t a ribbon, a hashtag, or a single day on the calendar. It’s real connection. Real questions. And real courage – from all of us.

If you or someone you know may be experiencing a mental health crisis:

Please don’t wait. Reach out.

United States

• Call or text 988 – Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (24/7, English & Spanish)
• NAMI HelpLine: 1-800-950-NAMI – peer support, resources, and referrals
• FindTreatment.gov – to locate mental health and substance use providers

United Kingdom

• Call 999 in an emergency
• Samaritans: 116 123 (free, 24/7)
• Mind: mind.org.uk – information, support, and resources

Australia

• Call 000 in an emergency
• Lifeline: 13 11 14 (24/7 crisis support)
• Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 – mental health support and resources

You are not alone. Asking for help is not weakness. It is extraordinary courage.