Sometimes the Loudest Cry for Help Is Silence: Suicide Prevention Beyond September

As September comes to an end, this is one conversation I don’t want to leave behind. Mental health advocacy is personal to me because I’ve had my own struggles with mental health, and I like to think of myself as someone still on the road to recovery and self-discovery. That journey is actually one of the reasons I started my podcast. I wanted to connect with other people who may be on their own journey of healing and figuring themselves out. I once said on my show, “Hurt people hurt people, and healed people heal people.” I still believe that.

So much of healing comes back to connection. We all want to feel seen, heard, understood, and reminded that we are not walking through life completely alone. Sometimes, that connection can be the very thing that gives someone the courage to say, “I’m not okay,” and finally ask for help. But I also believe shame can be one of the biggest things keeping someone from asking for that help. People may worry about being judged, misunderstood, called dramatic, or treated differently. They may feel like they should be able to handle everything themselves, or they may not want the people closest to them to know how bad things have become. That is why I believe, sometimes, the loudest cry for help is silence.

In 2024, 48,824 people died by suicide in the United States. That is about 134 people every day. Suicide was the 10th leading cause of death overall, and men died by suicide at about four times the rate of women. About 14.3 million adults seriously considered suicide, and approximately 2.2 million adults attempted suicide. Those numbers should especially make us think about how we talk to the men in our lives about mental health. Too many men grow up hearing that they should be strong, tough it out, keep their problems to themselves, or simply deal with it. Being strong should never mean suffering in silence.

Suicide usually does not have one simple cause. Mental health conditions can be a factor, but so can grief, trauma, abuse, loneliness, chronic pain, substance use, relationship problems, financial stress, losing a job, rejection, or simply feeling like life has become too heavy. There can also be warning signs, but they may not always look the way we expect. Someone may suddenly isolate themselves, sleep too much or barely sleep at all, become unusually angry, anxious, reckless, or hopeless, increase their alcohol or drug use, give away meaningful belongings, talk about being a burden, or simply stop seeming like themselves.

The human mind is complicated. We remember loss, carry grief, experience fear, replay regrets, and remember rejection and betrayal. We worry about our children, our relationships, our jobs, money, and what tomorrow will look like. Healing does not always mean forgetting. Sometimes, healing means learning how to carry those experiences differently. A painful memory can still exist without hurting as intensely. You can miss someone and still laugh again. You can experience fear without allowing it to make every decision. You can have difficult chapters in your life without allowing those chapters to become your entire story.

And that brings me back to connection. If somebody you care about suddenly does not seem like themselves, check on them. Ask, “How are you really doing?” If you are genuinely concerned about suicide, it is okay to ask directly, “Are you thinking about suicide?” Asking the question does not put the idea into someone’s head. It may actually open the door to a conversation they were afraid or ashamed to start.

If you are the person struggling, please do not allow shame to convince you that you have to hide what you are feeling. If you feel like you may hurt yourself, move away from anything you could use to seriously harm yourself. Tell someone you trust, “I don’t feel safe being alone right now.” You can also call or text 988 to reach a trained crisis counselor. A safety plan can also help by identifying your warning signs, coping strategies, safe places, supportive people, and professional resources before you reach a crisis.

There is no prize for silently surviving the hardest moment of your life. Tell somebody. Call somebody. Sit next to somebody. You do not have to explain everything perfectly. Sometimes, the first sentence can simply be, “I need help.” If someone says those words to you, remember that you do not have to be a therapist to care. Sometimes, what a person needs most is someone willing to listen without judgment and remind them that they do not have to carry everything alone.

This is also why I am proud to volunteer with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. On October 25, 2026, the Long Island community will come together for the Long Island Out of the Darkness Walk. I think there is something meaningful about that walk happening in October. By then, Suicide Prevention Awareness Month will be over. The posts, ribbons, and hashtags may slow down, but somebody will still need us.

So, when September ends, keep checking on your strong friend(s), the person who suddenly became quiet, the one who always makes everyone else laugh, the men who rarely talk about their feelings, and the children and teenagers who insist they are “fine.” Do not forget to check on yourself, too.

September 30 may mark the end of Suicide Prevention Awareness Month, but it should never mark the end of the conversation. Tomorrow is October 1. Keep asking. Keep listening. Keep checking in. Keep showing up. Sometimes, shame will tell someone to stay quiet. Sometimes, a smile will hide the pain. And sometimes, the loudest cry for help is silence.

The month ends. The conversation should not. Compassion should not. Our willingness to remind someone that their life matters should never end.