Reframing How We Understand Suicide

Each year, on September 10th, the world marks Suicide Prevention Day. A day filled with campaigns emphasising risk factors, warning signs, and urgent appeals to reach out before it's too late. But is this approach really working? Or does it further isolate the very people we’re trying to support? It’s time to reframe how we talk about suicide and rethink how we can create a world where suicide prevention isn’t only about managing risks, but about building communities that care, listen, and connect.

As someone who has worked in community based suicide prevention for the past few years alongside my work as a psychotherapist, I have some ideas to offer to the topic of suicide prevention and how we currently do things.

Naming Suicide: A Radical Act of Honesty

Too often, suicide is whispered about, or worse, it’s sanitised through euphemisms. But hiding behind these phrases keeps us from fully understanding the depth of someone’s despair. We can’t begin to offer genuine support without first being able to name what we’re dealing with. Suicidal thoughts don’t exist in a vacuum. They are rooted in real pain, hopelessness, and a sense of disconnection. By naming these feelings, we can approach them not as a threat to be neutralised but as a reflection of unmet needs that must be understood.

Being suicidal isn’t always about a desire to die. It’s often a deep yearning for something to change. A plea to stop feeling the way one feels. It’s about a part of the self seeking an end to the isolation, the anguish, the silence. We need to start asking, what does this suicidal part want?What is it communicating about what the person needs but hasn’t been able to find?

Suicidal Ideation Is Common. It’s Not the Boogeyman “Over There”

One of the biggest misconceptions about suicidal thoughts is that they’re rare, something that happens to “other people” or a select few who are particularly troubled. But the truth is, suicidal ideation is far more common than many of us realise. A lot of people think about suicide at some point in their lives, whether it’s during moments of intense stress, hopelessness, or grief. These thoughts don’t always signal a crisis or the immediate intention to end one’s life, they are often a reflection of emotional pain and a longing for relief.

Acknowledging this helps us destigmatise suicidal ideation. The idea that people who experience these thoughts are somehow “other” or fundamentally different can create a wall between us and those in pain. It makes suicidal ideation feel like a taboo subject, something to be feared or hidden, when in reality, many of us have experienced it or know someone who has. This is not an abstract problem for some distant population. It’s something people in our own communities, families, and social circles have lived through.

By normalising the conversation around suicidal thoughts, we create space for honesty and understanding. People can feel less isolated, knowing that they’re not alone in experiencing these feelings. It also allows us to approach the topic with more compassion and nuance, rather than viewing suicide as the "boogeyman" lurking in the shadows. The truth is, suicidal ideation is often a part of the human experience, particularly in times of overwhelming hardship, trauma, or emotional pain.

When we accept that suicidal thoughts are not as uncommon as we think, we shift the focus from fear and alienation to support and connection. Instead of seeing someone as a danger to themselves, we can recognise their thoughts as a signal that they need understanding, care, and perhaps new ways to cope with life’s difficulties. It’s crucial that we understand these thoughts don’t necessarily define a person, nor do they mean that someone is beyond help. Rather, they’re part of the complex, often messy landscape of being human.

Shifting Away From "Risk" and Toward Connection

When suicide is only framed as a risk to be managed, it changes the person who is suffering into a problem to be solved or a danger to be controlled. This carceral approaching, where we focus on surveillance, involuntary hospitalisation, or punitive measures, can unintentionally strip away agency and reinforce feelings of alienation. It casts the suicidal person as an ‘other,’ a potential disruptor, and not as someone with a valid experience of pain.

We need to move away from a culture of containment toward a culture of connection. This means building a community mental health model that is non-judgmental and non-coercive. Instead of isolating or institutionalising those in distress, we need to create spaces where people feel safe to talk about their suicidal thoughts without fear of judgment or forceful intervention. What if we approached suicide prevention by offering care, respect, and space for the expression of pain, rather than fear-based responses?

Care and support for those experiencing suicidality must be informed by the voices of those with lived experience, as they offer critical insights into what is truly needed for healing, connection, and meaningful prevention.

Exploring What Suicidal Parts of Us Need

It’s essential to recognise that people who experience suicidal thoughts are not broken… they are responding to deep, unmet needs. Whether it's unresolved trauma, chronic stress, or feelings of invisibility, suicidal ideation often reflects a fundamental need to be seen and heard. Rather than asking, "How do we stop you from feeling this way?" we should be asking, "What do you need to feel whole again?"

This shift opens the door to a more compassionate understanding of suicide. Being suicidal is often not about wanting death, but about wanting change. A change in how one relates to the world, their feelings, their circumstances. It’s important to write, for many, especially those facing systemic injustice due to race, gender, class, or sexual identity, suicidality often stems from a deep desire for things to change, reflecting not just personal pain, but the oppressive societal structures that marginalise and dehumanise them.

When we explore what the suicidal parts of a person need, we empower them to articulate their pain in ways that move beyond the desire for escape. Sometimes, those needs might include validation, safety, belonging, or simply the opportunity to be listened to without fear of consequence.

A Community Mental Health Approach: Healing Together

A community-based mental health model focuses on collective responsibility. Mental health is not an individual burden to be carried alone, it’s something we all have a stake in. Communities should provide spaces where vulnerability is accepted and where the focus is on connection, not containment. A great example of this is The Listening Place, a space where people experiencing suicidal thoughts can go and be heard without any expectation.

This can look like grassroots initiatives where communities form peer-support networks, programmes, trauma-informed care hubs, or mutual aid systems. It can mean investing in mental health resources that are freely accessible, non-coercive, and grounded in the principles of harm reduction. We need to move beyond the idea that people need to be "fixed" and provide the tools and support to help them heal on their own terms.

Beyond Crisis Management… Toward Everyday Care

Crisis-driven models of suicide prevention often kick in only when someone is at immediate risk of harm. But what about everyday support for those who are navigating persistent mental health struggles? We need to create systems of care that don't wait for a person to reach the edge before stepping in.

This means having open conversations about mental health all the time, not just during crises. It means advocating for better living conditions, access to mental health care, and social supports that meet basic human needs like housing, employment, and healthcare. It's about building relationships that matter before someone is in crisis, ensuring that no one is forced to cope with their pain in isolation.

Suicide Prevention is Political: The Impact of Public Policy on Mental Health

It’s impossible to talk about suicide prevention without acknowledging that it’s deeply political. The conditions that lead people to despair and hopelessness are shaped by political decisions—decisions about housing, healthcare, wages, and social safety nets. When we talk about preventing suicide, we can’t focus solely on individual actions like reaching out or asking for help. We must recognize that suicide is often the result of systemic inequalities and chronic neglect by those in power.

The reality is, suicide prevention is not just a mental health issue - it’s a public health and social justice issue. The policies that govern our societies affect our mental well-being in direct and profound ways. Lack of access to affordable healthcare, unstable housing, job insecurity, and the absence of social support are all risk factors that contribute to a person’s mental health deteriorating over time.

Marginalised Communities: Suicide Prevention and Social Justice

Suicide disproportionately affects marginalised communities, whether it’s people of colour, LGBTQIA+ individuals, Indigenous populations, or those living in poverty. These groups often face additional layers of discrimination, violence, and exclusion that increase the risk of suicidal thoughts. The political decisions that reinforce systemic racism, homophobia, and transphobia are part of why marginalised people are more vulnerable to suicide.

For instance, Black and Indigenous communities are more likely to experience trauma, poverty, and insufficient access to quality healthcare. LGBTQ+ youth, who face bullying, social isolation, and family rejection, are at an alarmingly higher risk for suicide. These disparities aren’t accidental, they’re the result of political choices that fail to protect and provide for the most vulnerable among us.

Preventing suicide in these communities requires more than mental health hotlines or awareness campaigns. It requires addressing the root causes of inequality. This means fighting for anti-racist policies, protecting LGBTQ+ rights, creating fair housing policies, and ensuring that public services are accessible and equitable. Suicide prevention in these contexts is about dismantling systems of oppression and building a society where everyone has the opportunity to thrive.

Political Action for Real Suicide Prevention

If we are serious about preventing suicide, we need to understand that mental health is political. This means pushing for public health policies that prioritize mental wellness as a societal responsibility. It means investing in community-based mental health care that is accessible to all, regardless of income or background. It means ensuring that people have the resources they need to live with dignity - affordable housing, healthcare, education, and fair wages.

Suicide prevention also requires advocating for better working conditions, affordable childcare, support for caregivers, and protections for those who are unemployed or underemployed. Chronic stress from economic insecurity is a significant driver of mental health crises, and addressing this requires political will.

We need to move beyond treating mental health as an individual issue, and instead view it through a public health lens. Step away from the Thatcher/Reagan agenda of placing the problem within the individual. Public health isn’t just about providing care for those who are already sick, it’s about creating the conditions where fewer people get sick in the first place. Suicide prevention, then, is about building a society where people's basic needs are met, where they have access to care, and where their well-being is a priority.

Holding Systems Accountable

At its core, suicide prevention is about holding systems accountable for the conditions they create. It’s about recognising that the mental health crisis we are facing is a direct result of policy choices. Choices that prioritise profit over people, austerity over care, and exclusion over inclusion. By shifting the conversation to the political realm, we can start to see that real suicide prevention requires structural change, not just individual intervention.

The mental health of a population is a reflection of its political and social environment. Until we address the inequalities and injustices that lead people to feel like their lives are unlivable, we will continue to see preventable suicides. It’s time for a new approach, one that acknowledges the political nature of suicide and commits to creating a world where every person has the chance to live a life worth living.

Reframing Suicide Prevention: Care, Not Control

What if suicide prevention wasn’t about preventing death, but about fostering life? What if we focused less on reducing risk and more on cultivating connections, understanding pain, and creating communities where people feel supported enough to keep going?

This anti-carceral, community-centered approach isn’t just a shift in how we talk about suicide. It’s a revolution in how we understand it. Instead of isolating those who feel suicidal, we draw them closer. Instead of assuming that suicidal thoughts are a problem to be eliminated, we ask what they’re trying to tell us. We recognise that the desire to end life is often rooted in a longing for connection, care, and change.

So, as we observe World Suicide Prevention Day this year, let’s commit to reframing how we think about and respond to suicide. Let’s name it without fear, talk about it without shame, and approach it with compassion, not control. This is the kind of suicide prevention that doesn’t just save lives, it transforms them.