What Our Communities Get Wrong About Suicide — And What We Need to Say Instead
Suicide Prevention Month
Let me be direct with you, because I think you can handle it.
In many of our communities — Black communities, immigrant communities, faith communities — there is a quiet understanding that some things are not spoken about. Mental health is one. Suicide is another. And because we don't talk about it, people we love are suffering in silence. Some of them don't make it.
As a licensed therapist, this is what I do. And even I have had to sit with how much our cultural frameworks, yes, the ones built from love, from survival, from faith, can sometimes become walls that keep people from the help they desperately need.
So before September ends, for Suicide Prevention Month, I want to break some things open. Gently but honestly.
First: What Suicide Actually Is
Suicide is not a cry for attention. It is not a selfish act. It is not the response of a weak person.
Suicide is a response to unbearable pain.
Read that again. Unbearable pain. When someone reaches that point, they are not trying to manipulate anyone or make a statement. They cannot see another way out of something that has become too heavy to carry. Understanding this is the first and most important shift, because how we understand something shapes how we respond to it.
The Myths We Inherited (And Need to Unlearn)
There are some beliefs that float around in our communities that, with the best intentions, can do real damage. Let's name them.
"Talking about suicide will put the idea in someone's head." This is one of the most persistent myths, and it is simply not true. Research consistently shows that open, honest conversations about suicide do not plant the idea. On the contrary, they create space for someone to finally say what they've been holding. Open conversations save lives.
"People who talk about it are just looking for attention." This one breaks my heart a little, because it has been used to dismiss people who were actually in crisis. The truth is that many people who have died by suicide spoke to someone about it beforehand. When someone tells you they're struggling, that is not drama. That is a door opening. Walk through it.
"Suicide can't be prevented." It can. It is not always predictable, but it is preventable, through early intervention, community support, mental health resources, and creating environments where people feel safe enough to say "I am not okay."
"People who die by suicide are selfish or weak." No. They are people in deep, often invisible pain who couldn't find a way through it. The language of selfishness and weakness is something we need to retire permanently. It shames the people we've lost and silences the people who are still here and struggling.
"This is mostly a young people's problem." Statistically, this is also not accurate. In the United States, the highest suicide rates are among women aged 45–64 and men over 75. This matters because it means the adults in our communities: our parents, our elders, the people we assume have it figured out — are also at risk. And they are perhaps the least likely to ask for help.
A Word About Culture
I need to pause here and speak specifically to those of us who grew up in homes shaped by African, Caribbean, or other immigrant cultures. And to those of us who were raised in deeply religious households. Because there is something particular happening in these spaces that we need to name.
In many of our home countries and family traditions, mental health struggles were spiritualized, minimized, or kept strictly private. Depression was sometimes called laziness. Anxiety was "worrying too much." Suicidal thoughts, if they were mentioned at all, were often met with prayer requests and scripture, not with clinical care or safety planning.
And prayer is beautiful. Faith is a genuine source of strength and I would never diminish that.
But faith and professional mental health care are not opposites. A person can be praying and in crisis. A person can be in church every Sunday and still be drowning quietly on Monday. The two can coexist.
When someone comes to us in pain and we say "just pray about it" or "you'll be fine, God doesn't give us more than we can handle" — we may be responding from a place of genuine love. But to someone in that moment, what they hear is: this community doesn't have room for what I'm carrying. And they close the door.
We can do better. Our communities deserve better.
Warning Signs: What to Look For
Suicide rarely happens without warning. The signs are not always dramatic or obvious, but they are there if we know what to look for.
Listen for these words:
"I can't go on."
"You'd be better off without me."
"I want this to be over."
"I wish I hadn't been born."
"I wish I wasn't here."
These phrases are not venting. They are not hyperbole. Take them seriously.
Watch for these behaviors:
A preoccupation with death or dying — in conversation, in what they're consuming online or in media
Giving away belongings, especially things that matter to them
Increased alcohol or drug use
Withdrawing from people and activities they used to love
Disrupted routines — sleeping too much, not eating, disappearing from church or community gatherings
Reckless or self-destructive behavior
Saying goodbye in a way that feels final
Accessing means — buying a weapon, stockpiling medications
And emotionally:
Extreme hopelessness — the belief that nothing will ever get better
Sudden calm after a period of depression (this can actually signal that someone has made a decision)
Irritability, rage, severe anxiety, or extreme mood swings
You do not have to be certain to say something. If something feels off, trust that feeling.
What to Say — And What Not to Say
This is where many of us freeze. We don't know what to say, so we say nothing. Or we say something that — despite our best intentions — pushes the person further away.
Say this:
"Are you thinking about suicide?"
"Are you thinking about hurting yourself?"
"Do you have access to anything you could use to hurt yourself?"
I know these feel like hard questions to ask. But asking directly does not cause harm — it communicates that you can handle the truth, and that gives someone permission to tell it. Be direct. Be calm. Lead with kindness and empathy.
Do not say this:
"It's not that serious."
"Just pray about it."
"Think about how this will affect your family."
"You'll be fine."
"There are people who have it worse."
All of these minimize, shame, or redirect the pain rather than meeting it. Even the family comment — which comes from love — can feel like one more burden placed on a person who already feels like a burden. Avoid it.
Safety Planning: A Practical Tool
If someone you love is in crisis or at risk, one of the most useful things you can do together is create a safety plan. This is not a contract — it's a road map for when things get dark.
A good safety plan includes:
Step 1: Know your warning signs. What thoughts, feelings, or triggers signal that a crisis might be coming?
Step 2: What can you do on your own? Relaxation techniques, a walk, a playlist, a prayer — things that can help interrupt a spiral without needing someone else.
Step 3: Who are your people? Name them. Save their numbers. Know who you can call and where you can go to feel safer.
Step 4: How can you make your environment safer? This might mean removing access to medications or weapons during a high-risk period.
Step 5: Know who to call in a crisis.
Your therapist (save that number!)
988 — the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text, 24/7, free)
Your county crisis line
Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860
Veterans Crisis Line: text 838255
Warm Line: 877-500-9276
For Our Communities: What This Really Takes
Preventing suicide in communities like ours requires more than knowing hotline numbers. It requires a cultural shift.
It requires us to stop treating mental health like a shameful secret. It requires faith leaders who can sit with someone in crisis and say, "let's get you some support" rather than "let's pray this away." It requires parents who can hear their children say "I'm not okay" without panic, shame, or dismissal. It requires all of us to be a little more like that neighbor back home — the one who saw you every morning, knew your name, your children's names, your chickens' names — and actually noticed when something was wrong.
Community saved lives long before therapists existed. It can still do that. We just have to let it.
A Final Word
If you are reading this and something in you recognized yourself — in the warning signs, in the silence, in the exhaustion of carrying something too heavy — I want you to know that you are not alone. And I want you to know that reaching out is not weakness. It is one of the bravest things a person can do.
Please call or text 988. Right now, if you need to.
And if you are someone who loves a person you're worried about — reach out to them today. Not tomorrow. Today. Ask the hard question. You might be the reason they stay.
For therapy services and resources, visit www.253therapy.com
Follow on Instagram: @drphebebrako
A Special Episode of Between Two Worlds with Dr. Phebe
Watch this week's episode and learn more about how to show up for your community.
This is a sensitive topic. If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts, please reach out to a mental health professional or call/text 988.
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