September is Suicide Prevention Month: in honor of Kevin

Kevin

Why It Matters and Kevin's Story

Content note: This post discusses suicide and mental illness. If you or someone reading this is in crisis, please see the note at the bottom for ways to reach out for help.

Every September, during Suicide Prevention Month, I find myself reflecting deeply on how this issue has profoundly impacted my life. Suicide is more than just a number; it’s a significant public health concern that affects us all. In 2022, nearly 49,500 people in the United States lost their lives to suicide, and worldwide, that heartbreaking number exceeds 720,000 each year.

But behind every statistic, there’s a story. A son, a daughter, a loving parent, a dear friend—each one cherished, each one a dreamer, each one loved dearly—people like my Kevin. It’s important to understand that suicidal thoughts aren’t simply a “choice.” They come from complex, measurable changes in the brain. Imaging studies reveal differences in areas such as the prefrontal cortex, hippocampus, and amygdala—regions crucial for memory, decision-making, and emotional regulation.

These changes can weaken judgment, make stress more complicated to handle, and hinder the ability to see a hopeful future. Suicide is not a sign of weakness; it reflects the devastating impact of an illness that can affect both the mind and body. Together, through awareness and compassion, we can promote understanding and offer hope.

Depression and suicide

Depression is one of the most common mental illnesses, affecting 21 million adults in the U.S. (about 8.3% of the population). Globally, the World Health Organization recognizes depression as the leading cause of disability worldwide, significantly contributing to the overall disease burden.

Depression is not about lacking courage; it's a silent illness that often hides in plain sight. Therapy, medication, community, and faith can offer relief and healing, but for some, the pain persists despite every effort. This isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s the burden of an illness too heavy to carry alone.

One challenge when discussing depression is that the word is often used loosely. Many people say, “I’m depressed” when they actually mean they are sad, grieving, or disappointed. But clinical depression is different from regular sadness.

• Sadness and grief are natural emotional responses to loss and hardship. They are part of the human story—challenging but meaningful, sometimes even healing.

• Depression, on the other hand, is a medical condition that alters brain chemistry and functioning.

When we label normal emotions as “depression,” we risk stigmatizing the natural process of grief or pathologizing what it means to be human. Honoring sadness and mourning for what they are can restore dignity and help us better understand when depression truly requires intervention.

Research reveals a much more nuanced relationship between mental illness and violence than popular stereotypes suggest:

• Most people with mental illness are not violent.

• Most individuals who commit violent acts do not have a mental illness.

• Mental illness is just one factor among many—poverty, trauma, substance use, and systemic inequities often have bigger impacts.

When we equate mental illness with danger, we not only miss the mark but also deepen stigma, pushing people into silence and shame. A clearer understanding promotes compassion and encourages those who are suffering to seek the support they need.

Suicide crosses every boundary —age, race, gender, wealth, education, or faith. It does not discriminate. Families with financial resources, access to top doctors, and strong support networks still lose loved ones to this illness.

Other families, to name a few, also endure this pain—ranging from designer Kate Spade, to chef and storyteller Anthony Bourdain, to musician Kurt Cobain, to country music legend Naomi Judd, and to dancer and television personality Stephen “tWitch” Boss.

Even Pastor Rick Warren, pastor of Saddleback Church and author of The Purpose Driven Life, lost his 27-year-old son Matthew to suicide after a lifelong struggle with mental illness. Wealth, fame, faith, and access to care cannot shield them or their families from the devastation of suicide. These stories remind us that no one is immune, and no family should ever feel shame or isolation in their grief.

Stigma and Kevin’s Story

One of the cruelest realities of mental illness is the stigma that surrounds it. Too often, people hide their pain for fear of judgment, shame, or being seen as a “burden.”

Globally, over 75% of people with depression in low- and middle-income countries receive no treatment, even though therapies are available. Stigma is one of the main barriers. Research shows that stigma causes treatment delays, social isolation, and internalized shame, all of which worsen outcomes.

Kevin knew this feeling all too well. He kept most of his pain hidden, internalizing his struggles in silence. This secrecy—which exists in families, churches, and communities everywhere—only makes the loneliness caused by mental illness worse. We can create change by speaking openly, listening without judgment, and offering genuine compassion instead of clichés, which helps remove the shame that causes people to suffer silently.

Kevin's journey through depression and mental illness was challenging, but he displayed incredible strength and resilience. From the tender age of 11, he felt an unsettling sense that something wasn’t quite right within him. At 21, in a moment of unbearable pain, he cried out for help and attempted the unthinkable. We supported him with love, care, and medical attention after his diagnosis of clinical depression.

His suffering was never a choice; it was a challenge he faced as he searched for relief. Over the years, Kevin tried many treatment options, from medications to therapy, all in his effort to feel whole again. While there were times when the burden of his illness seemed overwhelming, his perseverance was genuinely inspiring.

Kevin was a humble and kind-hearted person who never cared about material wealth. Even in his darkest times, Kevin’s compassion shone through, leaving a legacy of kindness that still resonates. His memory lives on in the hearts of those he touched and in the many ways he enriched our lives. We are thankful for the light he brought into the world, and we honor him by carrying that spirit forward.

While we cannot change the past, we can honor those we’ve loss by doing better in the present:

• Immediate Support: In the U.S., call or text 988 to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (available 24/7).

• International support: Crisis hotlines are available worldwide through the WHO/IASP directory.

• Evidence-based therapies: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), and other treatments may reduce risk.

• Community and faith: Talking openly about mental illness in homes, churches, and schools breaks stigma and permits people to seek help.

Suicide is complex and devastating. It is not about choice, weakness, or lack of faith. It stems from pain so deep and relentless that the mind and body can no longer bear it.

By sharing Kevin’s story, I want you to understand that you are not alone in your struggles. Your pain is real, and it deserves recognition. If you feel overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to seek support. Some people genuinely care and are ready to walk with you through these dark times until you can find your way back to the light. You deserve to feel better.

If You Are In Crisis, Please Reach Out

• United States: Call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

• International: Find hotlines in your country through the WHO/IASP directory.

• Text Support (U.S.): Text HOME to 741741 for the Crisis Text Line.

Your life matters. Reaching out is not a burden—it is an act of courage. And sometimes, one conversation can be the first step toward hope.