*Trigger warning, mention of s*icide
I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed lately and struggling a lot this week. It’s a heaviness I can’t quite name.
This week there were two high-profile suicides in the media. And I won’t lie — every time I hear about a suicide, something in me shifts. It lingers. It settles in my chest. It’s hard to shake, especially when I’m feeling so vulnerable.
When someone well-known dies this way, the news spreads quickly. There are headlines, tributes, speculation, shock. But underneath all of that is something quieter and more important: a reminder again that mental health struggles do not discriminate. Fame doesn’t shield you. Success doesn’t make you immune or quiet your inner pain.
Every time a public figure dies by suicide, we are given an opportunity — painful as it is — to talk.
To talk about depression without whispering.
To talk about anxiety without minimizing it.
To talk about hopelessness without shame.
I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts and ideations for the better part of twelve years.
There have also been several times I didn’t just think about it — I acted on those thoughts. That’s not easy to admit. It still feels vulnerable to put into words. But I’ve learned that silence feeds shame, and shame feeds isolation.
So I chose openness.
Not because it’s comfortable.
Not because I have it all figured out now.
But because the more we speak honestly about suicidal thoughts, the less power they have in the dark.
When I hear about a celebrity suicide, it doesn’t feel distant to me. It feels personal. It reminds me of the last 12 years I’ve spent battling my own mind. It reminds me how convincing hopelessness can sound. It reminds me how someone can look functional, successful, even joyful — and still be fighting.
Living with suicidal ideation isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s a background hum. Sometimes it flares up when life feels heavy — like it has for the past week or so— and I have to consciously steady myself again.
But here’s what I know now that I didn’t know twelve years ago:
Thoughts are not commands and asking for help is not weakness.
Every time we talk about suicide openly — responsibly, compassionately — we loosen the grip of stigma. We make it safer for someone to say, “Me too.” We make it safer for someone to reach out before their thoughts turn into plans.
This week has felt heavy. The headlines stirred things I work hard to keep steady. They reminded me that the line between coping and unraveling can feel thinner than we admit. But they also reminded me of something else: I have lived through twelve years of thoughts that told me not to. I have survived moments that feel unsurvivable.
And I am still here even though it’s not always easy.
If my honesty makes it even slightly easier for someone else to ask for help, then the vulnerability is worth it. Stigma can only be erased by conversations like this. In truth-telling. In refusing to stay silent.
Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is to keep talking. Keep reaching. Keep choosing you.
If you’re struggling, please don’t stay alone with it. Support is available. Text or call 9-8-8 in Canada or US.
And if you’re not struggling right now, be the person who makes it easier for others to speak. Listen without fixing. Stay without judging. Check in again.
Rest easy, Katherine Short and Robert Carridine
#celebrities #suicidalideations #overwhelm #vulnerable #itsoktonotbeok #endthestigmatogether #askforhelp #mentalhealth #depression #anxiety #youareenough
YouAreEnough 