When I’m at a Loss for Words

A personal reflection and self-care challenge for National Suicide Prevention Month

September is National Suicide Prevention Month, and this year, I find myself at a loss for words.

After 34 years of surviving multiple suicide losses, supporting siblings who have attempted suicide, and experiencing suicidal thoughts myself, I wish I could offer a simple answer to the question: How do we prevent suicide? I cannot.

Two weeks ago, I lost an extended family member to suicide. In the last four years alone, four people I cared about have died by suicide. Every day, it seems, we hear that another family has been changed forever. I sometimes wonder: Has suicide become an epidemic, or are we finally talking about it more openly? Perhaps both questions point to the same truth - far too many people are hurting, and too many are carrying that pain silently.

Suicide is complex. I don’t think it can be reduced to one cause, one warning sign, one diagnosis, or one missed conversation. Prevention requires accessible mental health care, compassionate communities, responsible medical support, education, connection, and the willingness to take suffering seriously. It also asks us to care for our own minds, bodies, and nervous systems before we reach a point of complete depletion.

The World Our Nervous Systems Are Living In

We live in a world that rewards constant productivity. We are expected to multitask, respond immediately, absorb endless information, and remain available nearly all the time. Yet our bodies were not designed to live in a continuous state of urgency.

Technology can connect us, educate us, and help us find support. It can also keep our minds overstimulated and our nervous systems activated. Many young people - and many adults - spend hours looking at screens instead of moving their bodies, resting, getting outside, or experiencing face-to-face connection.

Social media adds another complicated layer. It offers glimpses into other people's lives, but those glimpses rarely tell the whole story. When we see others gathering, traveling, celebrating, or appearing happy, it can create the painful impression that everyone belongs except us.

A few weeks before my 24-year-old nephew died by suicide, he removed himself from social media. He had been posting, but people were not responding to or liking his posts while appearing to engage with others. He felt ignored and left out. In reality, his friends may never have seen what he shared. After leaving social media, he worried that he had upset them. A digital silence that may have meant nothing felt deeply personal to him.

I share this not to blame social media, his friends, or any single circumstance for his death. Suicide does not have one cause. I share it because perception matters. Loneliness matters. Feeling invisible matters. And sometimes the story a hurting mind tells can feel more real than the fuller truth.

This Month, Let Prevention Begin with Self-Love

We cannot control every outcome, and self-care alone cannot prevent every suicide. But caring for our own mental and physical health can strengthen our ability to cope, recognize when we need help, and stay connected to ourselves and others. Prevention begins in many places - and one of those places is within us.

This September, I challenge you to practice self-love by making your own mental health a priority. Not in a grand or complicated way. Not as one more thing you have to do perfectly. Simply begin by creating a few intentional pauses in your day that tell your nervous system: I am safe. I am listening. I matter, too.

Create a Rhythm of Care

Our bodies are deeply connected to the rhythms of nature. We were made to wake with light, move through the day, and slow down as darkness falls. Modern life does not always allow us to follow the sun exactly, but we can use that natural rhythm as a reminder to begin, pause, and end each day with care.

Begin Your Morning Gently

Wake just 10 to 15 minutes earlier and give that time to yourself before the demands of the day begin. The way we start our morning matters. A rushed beginning can place the nervous system into urgency before we have even left the house or opened the computer. A few quiet minutes can help the body begin from a place of steadiness.

You might drink a glass of water, sit in silence for a few minutes, step outside, take a short walk, or gently stretch. You do not need an elaborate morning routine. Choose one small practice that feels supportive and repeat it. Ten to 15 minutes really can make a difference.

Take a Midday Reset

At some point during the day, step away from your screens. If possible, go outside and feel the air and natural light. Take a few slow, deep breaths. Unclench your jaw. Lower your shoulders. Let your eyes focus on something farther away than a phone or computer screen.

Even a brief pause can interrupt the feeling that you must keep pushing without stopping. Give yourself permission to recharge before you are completely depleted.

Prepare Your Body for Rest

When possible, turn off computers and put away screens two hours before sleep. Allow the evening to become a gentle transition instead of carrying the stimulation of the day directly into bed.

Soak in the tub. Read a book. Drink a cup of herbal tea. Prepare what you need for the next day so the morning feels less rushed. Dim the lights and let your body know that it is safe to slow down. Rest is not a reward for finishing everything; it is a basic need.

Choose One Small Promise

You don’t have to change everything at once. Choose one practice you can repeat each day this month. Healthy habits are not built through perfection; they are built through small acts of care, offered to ourselves again and again.

Perhaps your promise is a glass of water before coffee, ten quiet minutes in the morning, lunch away from your desk, a walk outside, or an evening without screens. Let your promise be realistic, gentle, and yours.

My challenge to you this September is simple: Do not wait until you are in crisis to begin caring for yourself. Let us focus on our own mental health, because prevention starts with us - with noticing what we need, honoring our limits, asking for support, and tending to our nervous systems before we reach complete exhaustion.

A Personal Invitation

I would also like to invite you to schedule a complimentary 30-minute call with me. During our time together, I will share practical self-care and nervous-system tools that have helped me through multiple suicide losses, a terminal diagnosis, and many other life challenges. We can talk about what you are carrying and identify a few simple practices that may help you feel more grounded, supported, and cared for in your daily life.

You do not have to wait until life becomes unbearable to reach for support. Sometimes one honest conversation and one small change can be the beginning of something different.

I know the pain of suicide loss. I know the fear of finding someone after an attempt. I also know what it is to experience suicidal thoughts myself. Emotional pain can touch any family and any life. None of us is too strong, too informed, too successful, or too needed to struggle.

So let this month be about more than awareness. Let it be about noticing. Reaching out. Slowing down. Asking for help. Caring for your body. Making space for honest connection. And remembering that your life is worthy of the same compassion you so freely give to others.

You matter, too.

Schedule Complimentary Virtual Session

If you are in the United States and experiencing emotional distress or thoughts of suicide, call or text 988, or visit 988lifeline.org to chat with a trained crisis counselor. The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline is available 24/7. If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 911 or go to the nearest emergency department.

About the Author

Jayne Madigan is the Founder of Healing After Suicide, Author, Speaker, and Retreat Facilitator. Having navigated the journey of suicide loss for more than 34 years after experiencing multiple suicide losses in her own life, Jayne has dedicated her work to helping suicide loss survivors move from surviving to healing.

Through her writing, workshops, retreats, and support programs, she helps survivors honor their grief, reconnect with hope, and discover that healing is possible—even after profound loss.