Opinion: Talking openly about mental health reduces stigma

We all sat in the living room, staring into space, not a word uttered among us. It was the loudest silence I had ever heard. This was the scene in my home hours after my family learned that my Uncle David had died by suicide. 

The news came piece by piece. At first, I was only told that he died suddenly. A number of hours later, my mother informed me that it was suicide. Uncle David shot himself the night before, while my Aunt Josefina and cousin Jamie were out of the house.

When the initial shock wore off, after that first day filled with silence, a new question entered our minds: What do we do now? For my aunt and cousin, the path moving forward was full of uncertainty. The primary breadwinner of their family was gone, and now, deep financial hardship was added to their heartache. Everything from paying their mortgage, to paying Jamie’s college tuition, and even putting food on the table, became a struggle. And to add insult to injury, they would most likely not receive insurance due to Uncle David’s cause of death. 

Additionally, there were numerous logistical tasks to be done. The funeral was to be held soon, in just a few days. We worked with the funeral home, visited the cemetery where Uncle David would be laid to rest, and planned the gathering after the funeral. We picked out black outfits. We wrote an obituary.

The planning seemed to keep everyone busy and pushed the grief temporarily aside so that the necessary work could be done. But on the morning of the funeral, the loud silence returned as we all drove to the graveside service. 

As I looked out around the grave, I was struck by the size of the crowd, and that’s when the scale of suicide made itself crystal clear. It reaches people in waves, in layers that extend far beyond immediate family. It reaches in-laws, friends, co-workers, neighbors, teachers, bosses, childhood pals, and so many others. Such a tragedy can crumble an entire ecosystem of people in a second, leaving dozens at a loss for words, facing the same deafening silence in their own homes that I experienced in mine. If it takes a village to raise a person, it takes a village to mourn them, too.

Unfortunately, the scene I have described is familiar to far too many villages, and too many families. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S., showing the scale of the mental health crisis in this country and around the world. This crisis has only been exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic, as 4 out of 10 adults in the U.S. have reported experiencing anxiety or depression since the pandemic began.

The crisis is also compounded by the destructive stigma of mental illness, which contributes to the desire to keep deaths by suicide a secret. When Uncle David died, many of my family members felt not only sadness and shock, but also embarrassment. They did not know if people would judge David for what happened or think less of him. This was especially painful since my Uncle David was a truly wonderful man who lived his life just like anyone else. He was a fiercely devoted father, he loved barbecues and camping, and he was a connoisseur of stand-up comedy. His mental illness does not define him, nor does his cause of death. 

Given the massive scale of the mental health crisis, the question "what do we do now?" is a global one. For the sake of our loved ones, and our fellow human beings, the answer is clear. We need to work together to break the stigma of mental illness so that those who are suffering do not need to suffer alone. The National Alliance on Mental Illness offers several suggestions to reduce stigma, such as talking openly about mental health, showing compassion for those with mental illnesses and fighting self-stigma. 

While these suggestions sound easy in theory, they are much more difficult in practice. When it is you, or your family member, who is struggling, it takes a great deal of bravery to speak out. So, to honor those we have lost to suicide, and to support those who are still here, please be brave. Please speak out. 

Hopefully, in sharing my family’s story, we can keep my Uncle David’s memory alive, and chip away at the stigma so that those who need help can have the courage to seek it.

Grace James is a resident of Centerville, Ohio, and is currently a graduate student at the Ohio University Scripps School of Journalism.