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Suicide is never predictable. It doesn’t wait for a warning sign you’ll recognize. And it certainly doesn’t care how good the day was going.

I’d spent the entire morning with my son. We had lunch. We hugged. And just one hour later, he was dead.

We tell people, “Get help.” Like it’s easy. Like it’s always there. But too often, it isn’t.

Therapists are booked for months. Insurance barely touches the cost. Crisis care is cold and clinical.

My son tried to get help. We tried. And it still wasn’t enough.

This month is Mental Health Awareness Month. I’m not going to wrap it in green ribbons or polished awareness posts.

I want to say this, plainly:

We need more.

We need better.

We need accessible care that meets people before they break.

If you’re struggling, please hear this: there is no shame in needing help.

And if you’re someone who can offer it, please don’t stop.Keep showing up. Loudly. Repeatedly. Relentlessly.

That’s how we begin to change things. Not all at once, but by telling the truth and refusing to look away.

If you’re not sure how you’re really doing right now, start here:

screening.mhanational.o…

It’s quick. It’s free. And it might be the first step toward feeling better. Recovery is possible.

May 1, 2025
at
2:07 PM
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