Content Note: this article addresses the topic of suicide.
In one year’s time, I lost two people I loved to suicide. One was a reader of mine who I had met through a piece I wrote on my own journey with suicidal ideation. The other was a dear colleague who worked for me who took his life just eight months later. It wasn’t the first time I dealt with the pain and anguish of losing someone I loved to suicide, but the timing of it all intersected with a season when I was struggling myself.
In the midst of losing both of my friends, there was hushed talk in the community about their mental health challenges. Their obituaries did not contain manner of death or details, of course; they were just here one day and gone the next. The cause of death may have been obvious due to the suddenness of their passing and their age, or to those who knew these beautiful souls more intimately. But the silence that follows a suicide in Christian communities speaks loudly about the way we continue to stigmatize it.
I can’t tell you how many times I have poured over last conversations, posts, and texts that may or may not have contained indicators that something was very wrong. Even more difficult was my own thought process as someone who has struggled with suicidal ideation off and on for years. Why am I still here and they are not? Why am I not on the other side with them? Would God be mad at me if I decided that I just couldn’t take it anymore? I wondered if anyone recognized the “signs” in me.
That same year, in the midst of my own challenges, my writing had taken off. I had garnered nearly 10,000 followers on Twitter (now known as X) in a short period of time, was freelancing for multiple faith outlets, and was talking openly about the intersection of my own mental health and my Catholic faith that I so boldly proclaimed. I wanted to share the details of what I was going through, but I feared the repercussions of rejection and exile from both my Christian and professional communities.
At the very pinnacle of my Catholic media calling, I tweeted about how the sacrament of confession and therapy were not the same, and that anyone who needed therapy should seek it and not be afraid to ask for help. Just a few minutes later, a young seminarian tweeted back, “Therapy is a sin and confession with a priest is the only place to discuss your problems.”
Therapy is a sin. Those words could have been the end of me.
After years of building towards my dream of writing and being featured in Christian media outlets to discuss this very topic of mental health and faith, I deleted every social media account I had and walked away from writing. That one tweet, those few words, sent me into a tailspin. The seminarian on the other end never knew the damage he inflicted on my psyche and on the next year of my life.
So my great faith, my devoutness, my belief that God had put me out there as one of his own to write about my mental health and share my journey with others to help them was shattered in a single moment. I didn’t want one comment from someone I’d never even met to discourage me after I had come so far. But I was not in any place to defend against the seminarian’s words.
PTSD oftentimes triggers you and catapults you back into negative thinking patterns: “I am a failure. I am weak. I don’t belong in this world.”
I am keenly aware on a daily basis that I am still here and my friends are not. I struggle to understand the love of God when faced with the reality that I continue to live and recover while they could not. The biggest things that have helped manage my suicidal thoughts are therapy and my commitment to being here for my family while I work the rest out with God.
Eventually, God used the seminarian’s comment as a springboard for me to heal rather than to fade away. Over the course of the following year, Jesus brought so many people into my life who were experiencing depression, anxiety, addiction, and other mental health issues. Every single one of them asked me the same question: “Is therapy a sin?” It wasn’t a coincidence. It was an opportunity to tell them the truth in a space without judgement. “I’m in therapy” were three words that spoke loudly to them. I was finally honest. In speaking truth, I somehow became a conduit for God to give them the permission they needed to pursue healing themselves.
In the year since my friends died, I have thought many times about coming back to writing and to the online communities where I shared so much of my journey as a devout Catholic who experiences mental health challenges. But I realized at some point during that year that I simply wasn’t ready. Instead, I focused on my own recovery and kept mementos of them around to remind me that they were most certainly cheering me on from heaven. Although I’d rather have them here, I believe that like our Lord, their love and suffering were not in vain. In fact, they are the very things that compelled me to come back to this writing space now, to share with others and to fight back against the belief that we are alone.
If you are experiencing suicidal ideation, or if you are concerned for the safety of someone you know, it is important to seek help immediately. The following crisis lines are available 24/7:
- Australia: 13 11 14 (Lifeline)
- Canada:
- 988 (National Suicide Prevention Lifeline three-digit dialing code)
- 1-833-456-4566 (Crisis Services Canada)
- New Zealand:
- 1737 (National Mental Health and Addictions Helpline)
- 0800-543-354 (Lifeline Aotearoa)
- United Kingdom: 116 123 (Samaritans)
- United States:
- 1-800-273-8255 (National Suicide Prevention Lifeline)
- 988 (National Suicide Prevention Lifeline three-digit dialing code)
Emergency Resources: If a critical situation arises, attend your nearest hospital emergency department or call your local emergency number.
- Australia: 000
- Canada: 911
- European Union: 112
- New Zealand: 111
- United Kingdom: 999
- United States: 911
If you are looking for local mental health services or information in another location or language, we encourage you to search online or reach out to your local churches and health care providers.
Header photo by Allison Christine on Unsplash
MELISSA PRESSER
Melissa Presser is a wife, mother of three, and a seasoned attorney. This year, Melissa began her journey as a full-time Professor of Criminal Justice, bringing her passion for advocacy to university level students. Melissa’s own experience as a trauma survivor has allowed her to connect with people around the world through her writing, as she continues to use her own vulnerabilities as a guidepost to help others in their healing journeys. Melissa’s story of faith has been featured on EWTN’s The Journey Home, The Coming Home Network, and Seize the Day with Gus Lloyd.