We Can't Heal What We Believe We Have to Keep Secret 🤫

A Charge to Speak, Be Seen, & Stay in the Fight During National Suicide Prevention Month

By Elizabeth R. Jones, M.Ed., LMHCA, LLPC, NCC

So why do we keep pain a secret?

Why do we wear pain like a badge of honor and make struggling alone the measure of how much we can withstand?

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that strength meant enduring quietly.

Don't burden anybody.

Don't let them see you break.

Never give anyone something they can use against you.

Handle it.

Keep going.

And after hearing those messages long enough, you might start believing that being vulnerable isn't safe, that letting someone know you're hurting gives them access to a part of you that needs to stay protected.

But what does being "strong enough" actually mean?

Being impenetrable to pain and disrespect? No.

Being able to mask beyond recognition, even from yourself? No.

Who told you strength couldn't sound like:

I'm not okay.

I'm overwhelmed.

I'm scared of failure.

I'm scared of where my thoughts are going.

I need somebody right now.

Honestly, people remain silent because they don't want to feel like a burden.

Sometimes it's the fear of being judged, someone suddenly looking at you differently because you're usually "the strong one," and now, somehow, you aren't so strong anymore.

As if vulnerability makes you less dependable, trustworthy, or capable.

It's almost as if we view vulnerability as an insult.

So tell me, do we?

Does admitting that something hurts somehow take away from everything you are, everything you've survived, everything you've accomplished, and every person you've managed to be there for along the way?

Think about that.

Your pain doesn't make you weak.

And hiding it doesn't make you stronger.

In fact, I often challenge the opposite.

It takes immense strength to be vulnerable.

To say, I'm not okay.

To confront yourself honestly.

To admit that you're lost in the confusion of emotions you don't completely understand yet.

And something we don't talk about enough is that more than one emotion can exist at the same time.

Two things can be true.

You can love your life and still feel exhausted by it.

You can be grateful and overwhelmed.

You can be surrounded by people and still feel alone.

You can want things to get better while struggling to believe that they actually will.

Human emotions are complex. Sometimes we don't tell anyone what's happening because we don't even fully understand it ourselves.

Unfortunately, we often begin talking seriously about suicide once someone has already reached a crisis.

But prevention starts before that.

It begins by creating spaces safe enough for someone to say:

I'm starting to feel like I don't want to be here anymore.

Everything feels like too much.

I'm starting to feel like there is no hope.

I don't believe I'll ever be good enough.

I feel too far gone to be redeemed.

Suicidal thoughts may not always begin with a simple, clear statement of: "I want to die."

Sometimes there is exhaustion.

Hopelessness.

Feeling trapped.

Wanting relief.

We need spaces where people can tell the truth before silence becomes crisis.

Something I think we can all agree on is the wonderful feeling of being seen and heard.

Pain doesn't check résumés, titles, bank accounts, responsibilities, accomplishments, or how well somebody appears to have it together.

I want us to ask ourselves whether we've become people our strong friends actually feel safe enough to tell the truth to.

That's part of prevention too.

Maybe strength isn't measured by how much you can carry without anyone noticing.

Maybe strength is recognizing when something has become too heavy to carry alone.

Because somewhere along the way, we have to remember:

We were never meant to do this life alone.

So as we close out this message and continue our fight alongside others during National Suicide Prevention Month, this is what I want to leave with us:

Say it.

Even if your voice shakes.

Even if all you know how to say is: "Something isn't right ."

Say it.

We can't heal what we believe we have to keep secret. 🤫💜 If you or someone you know is struggling or experiencing suicidal thoughts or a suicidal crisis, call or text 988 in the U.S. to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.