Earlier this year, I stepped into the University of Missouri Hospital with a sense of unease. Memories of ambulance lights, hospital gowns, and the clothes cut from my body flooded back. As I read the hospital’s mission statement – “To Save And Improve Lives” – I couldn’t help but think about how they had saved mine.
My purpose for being at the hospital that day was to speak to the emergency room medical residents about my personal experience as a patient. Walking into the conference room, I was immediately greeted by Jenn, the ER nurse who had played a pivotal role in my life.
For years, I had searched for Jenn on social media platforms to no avail. Numerous Google searches had only led me to others with the same name. Finally, with the help of an administrator at the university, I was able to locate her.
Eight years ago, when I was rushed to that very ER after attempting suicide, Jenn was the one who helped remove the pills from my stomach. She administered charcoal and intravenous fluids to counteract the effects of the pills. As she saved my life, a bond of hope formed between us, one that would endure for years to come.
When I saw Jenn, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I hugged her tightly, and she greeted me with a smile. “I’m glad you’re still with us,” she said.
“I’m glad too,” I replied, the sincerity evident in my voice. The author (right) chatting with nurse Jenn at University of Missouri Hospital.
To enhance my presentation at the ER department, I had created a large poster displaying photos of my life since my suicide attempt. The pictures showcased meaningful moments such as my children’s weddings and holding my first granddaughter. They also depicted my work in mental health advocacy, including initiatives with first responders, veterans, and incarcerated women. Additionally, I included images from keynote speeches, national TV appearances, and my award-winning memoir. The poster showcased all the incredible experiences I would have missed if the hospital hadn’t saved me.
However, the poster was incomplete. It failed to capture the other side of my life. There were no snapshots of my panic attacks or the sleepless nights spent crying and pacing around my house. I had no visual representation of the moments when I found myself in the shower at 2 AM or on my knees, desperately praying for relief. Nor did it include the recent five-hour screening I endured as part of my suicide prevention plan. I shared the truth with Jenn because, while I’m often grateful to be alive, there are still days when I question whether saving my life was the right choice. Many applaud me for overcoming suicidal thoughts, but the reality is that I still battle with them. It’s a journey of learning to live with them rather than conquering them. Suicidal ideation can be managed through prevention, intervention, support strategies, and an individualized suicide prevention plan. I’m not alone in this struggle – many individuals seeking treatment for anxiety, depression, or eating disorders also contend with suicidal thoughts and urges.
Two weeks after my visit to Missouri, I found myself in the midst of another deep suicidal episode. While teaching a Sunday school class on the topic of trials, a woman asked if I would trade my trials for someone else’s. I hesitated before replying, “Sure.”
Religiously speaking, my answer was incorrect. The woman was taken aback and the room fell silent.
Talking about suicide scares people. The prevailing myth is that discussing it will only encourage others to consider it as an option. This is false. Suicide is a complex issue with multiple contributing factors such as bullying, prejudice, stigma, abuse, addiction, financial difficulties, relationship problems, chronic illnesses, and societal pressures, in addition to mental health conditions and accessibility to mental health resources. These situations can make individuals feel isolated, inadequate, overwhelmed, and silenced. Shockingly, a person dies from suicide every 40 seconds. It’s the second leading cause of death among Americans aged 10-14 and 20-34. Suicide affects people from all walks of life.
In 2004, my father attempted suicide. Although he was found in time, he lived only seven more years. He ultimately succumbed to his battle with bipolar disorder and took his own life. The guilt of wondering if I could have done more to save him haunts me to this day. I often wonder what might have happened if we had openly discussed our suicidal thoughts. Perhaps he would still be alive.
Studies suggest that a single suicide loss impacts the lives of 135 individuals. The prevalence of suicidal ideation among teenage girls is particularly alarming, with nearly one-third of female high school students recently reporting thoughts of suicide. This disconcerting trend coincides with a nation-wide lack of investment in mental health care. Even before the COVID-19 pandemic, the disparities in mental health care in the United States resulted in over 100,000 deaths and cost the economy approximately $278 billion over a four-year period.
I consider myself fortunate to receive the mental health care I need. Going without the support of mental health professionals would be incredibly dangerous, potentially even fatal. My dialectical behavior therapist has taught me the importance of acknowledging two truths simultaneously – being lost and found, in despair and hopeful. In that Sunday school class, my two truths were that I wanted to live and that I wanted to die.
As a mental health advocate, I have been afraid to admit my desire to die, fearing that it would diminish the hope of those who need it most. However, I now realize that by hiding these thoughts, I would be negating the complete picture. Experiencing another suicidal episode makes it difficult not to question if I have somehow failed. But finding the strength to face another day demonstrates courage. Accepting that many individuals, like myself, will grapple with suicidal thoughts repeatedly, potentially throughout their lives, is where hope truly resides. Hope is a choice to surrender to the present moment, understanding that darkness is not eternal and that joyous moments await us.
Jenn later sent me a text message, expressing how valuable and important I was to her that day and every day. It was a reminder that each person holds value, not only individually, but also in relation to others. A vital way we can prevent suicides is by fostering open and inclusive conversations within our families, friendships, workplaces, schools, and communities. Creating an environment where individuals can share their unique experiences without shame or judgment expands our collective understanding of suicide and provides support for those who are struggling. Suicide is not an inevitability for anyone. Open dialogue about suicide encourages people to seek help for their mental health, reducing the risk of suicide. That is how we save lives.
Sonja Wasden is a suicide survivor with over 30 years of personal experience with mental health challenges. Her memoir, “An Impossible Life,” which delves into her struggles with mental illness, has been recognized as a story of hope and wasfeatured on “CBS This Morning.” As a member of Newsweek Expert Forum, Sonja has traveled across the country to speak with Fortune 500 companies, non-profit organizations, government officials, advocacy groups, and prominent media outlets about the significance of mental health. In addition, she has contributed opinion pieces to various publications…
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