World Suicide Prevention Day; Reflections on Grief, Healing, and Hope

Every year on World Suicide Prevention Day, I pause to reflect—not just as a mental health professional, but as someone personally bereaved by suicide.

Back when I was training as a Nightline counsellor at university, we were taught to explore many difficult topics—including suicide. I remember strongly feeling that people do their best in difficult circumstances, even when it’s hard for others to understand. At the time, not everyone agreed with me.

A few years later, when I experienced suicide bereavement myself, that belief became something I could lean on. It reminded me that, even if I would never have all the answers, I could still choose to approach my grief with compassion.

Living with Grief: The Wave Analogy

In the beginning, grief felt like being caught in a storm at sea. The waves came thick and fast, smacking me in the face over and over. I could hardly breathe, let alone find my footing. Every day felt overwhelming, and the pain was all-consuming.

Sixteen years later, those waves are much gentler. Most days now, grief is like a dull ache in the background—the tide quietly moving in and out. But even now, without warning, a wave can still rise up and knock me off balance. The difference is that these days, I know the waves will pass, and I’ve learned how to ride them.

One of the hardest parts of suicide bereavement is the unanswered questions it leaves behind. In the early years, I would wrestle with them. Eventually I had to accept that I would never have my questions answered—and it was okay to feel angry and frustrated about that. Because even if I did have the answers, it wouldn’t change the fact that he was gone.

Another part of grief is accepting the loss itself. At first, my mind couldn’t take it in. I couldn’t fully believe it had happened. Over time, though, I reached a place of acceptance on a cognitive level—being able to acknowledge the reality, even if my heart still struggled to keep up.

If you are recently bereaved, please don’t be angry at yourself for not being “further along.” Grief doesn’t follow a timetable. It’s a journey of waves, and reaching out when they knock you over is an act of strength, not weakness.

What Helped Me (and Might Help You Too)

In the rawest days of grief, I didn’t always know how to keep going. Looking back, a few things became lifelines for me:

• Connecting with others – Grief can feel isolating, but reaching out helped. I had some sessions with Lifeline, and at a time when I was incapacitated by sudden, complex grief, they truly were a lifeline, helping me navigate those first few months and keep my head above water.

• Giving myself permission – To cry, to rest, to not “be okay.” Healing began when I stopped pressuring myself to “move on” and allowed myself to simply be where I was.

• Finding purpose in helping – Years after my loss, once I had done my own processing and healing, I joined the Samaritans as a listening volunteer and later delivered SafeTALK training. Being able to use my lived experience to support others gave me a sense of meaning—and each time I did, it brought a little more healing of my own.

• Leaning on small daily practices – Walking, journalling, talking to friends, or just having moments of stillness—tiny actions added up to help me feel grounded.

• Accepting the waves – Grief comes and goes. Some days are gentler, others hit like a storm. Letting the waves move through me, instead of fighting them, gave me space to heal.

• Noticing the anniversaries – Something that surprised me was how strongly my body reacted around the anniversary each year. Even five years in, I found myself becoming more irritable, angry, and prone to headaches without realising why—until it dawned on me that the anniversary month was approaching. It reminded me of what Bessel van der Kolk describes in The Body Keeps the Score: grief is not just emotional, it lives in the body too. Recognising this helped me be kinder to myself and see these reactions as part of the journey, not a setback.

Gentle Truths About Grief

The most painful part of bereavement, for me, was the loneliness. Even when surrounded by people, I often felt trapped in my own head. And really, that makes sense—because grief is always experienced in our own unique way.

But what matters is balancing that solitude with connection. Talking to others who understand—even if they haven’t faced the exact same loss—can make all the difference. After the death of a parent, I often describe it as belonging to a “club” that no one wants to join. It’s horrible to experience, but you realise you are not alone.

I’m proud that I’ve tried to use my own experience to support others. Each time I do, it brings a little more healing—because people were there for me, and now I can be there for my friends and family.

Grief also has a way of showing up differently for each of us. It isn’t linear. It doesn’t follow rules. It might appear as tears, anger, exhaustion, or silence. And often the best thing you can do for someone grieving isn’t to offer solutions—it’s to simply sit beside them while they cry their face off, letting them know you are there. Presence, not fixing, is sometimes the greatest gift.

Why Awareness Matters

Suicide continues to be a profound and urgent challenge here in Northern Ireland. According to the Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency (NISRA):

• In 2023, there were 221 registered suicide deaths—an 8% increase from 2022.

• That year’s age-standardised suicide rate was 13.3 per 100,000 people, up from 12.3 in 2022.

• Of those deaths, 77.4% were male (171 people) and 22.6% were female (50 people). The male-specific rate increased from 19.2 to 20.9 per 100,000, while the female rate rose slightly from 5.7 to 5.9 per 100,000.

• Suicides were more than twice as likely to occur in the most deprived areas compared to the least (28.5% vs 13.1%).

Every single one of those 221 deaths is a person, a family, a community forever changed. These figures remind us why days like World Suicide Prevention Day matter—not for the statistics, but for the conversations and connections they can spark.

Training That Can Save Lives

If you’ve ever wanted to feel more confident supporting someone in crisis, there are brilliant training opportunities available:

• SafeTALK – A half-day workshop teaching practical skills to recognise signs and connect someone to support.

• ASIST (Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training) – A two-day, in-depth course in suicide first aid and safety planning.

• Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) – Training to recognise and respond to mental health crises, including suicidal thoughts.

These aren’t just certificates—they’re tools that equip us to make a real difference in someone’s life.

Where to Find Support

If you are struggling, or supporting someone who is, please know there is help out there:

• Samaritans – Call 116 123 free, anytime.

• Papyrus HOPELINE247 – Support for young people under 35: 0800 068 4141.

• Survivors of Bereavement by Suicide (SOBS) – Support groups for those bereaved by suicide.

• CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) – For men in crisis: 0800 58 58 58.

• AWARE NI – Mental health support across Northern Ireland.

Reading that may help

If you’re looking for books that may offer comfort, insight, or simply remind you that you are not alone, here are some I recommend:

• Grief Works by Julia Samuel – Gentle, real-life stories and reflections from a grief psychotherapist, showing that healing is possible in different ways.

• It’s OK That You’re Not OK by Megan Devine – A compassionate guide that validates the messy, unpredictable nature of grief, without rushing you to “move on.”

• A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis – A short but powerful book capturing the rawness and honesty of grief in the aftermath of deep loss.

• Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant – Focuses on resilience, hope, and finding joy again after loss, with practical ideas for rebuilding life.

Closing Reflection

If you are recently bereaved, or carrying grief of any kind, my message is simple: you are not alone.

Grief may come in waves, sudden and fierce—but waves also remind us that we are still here, still moving, still connected to others who care. Reaching out is never a sign of weakness; it is a step toward hope, toward healing, and toward life.

On this World Suicide Prevention Day, may we remember those we’ve lost, support those who are struggling, and hold onto the belief that even in the darkest moments, light can still be found.

References for Statistics

• Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency (NISRA), Suicide Statistics 2023, released June 2024: NISRA website.

• Office for National Statistics (ONS), Suicides in England and Wales: 2023 registrations, released 2024.

• Papyrus UK, Latest Suicide Statistics, 2024.

• Samaritans, Suicide Statistics Report 2024.