On several occasions during my years of living in South Dakota, I was approached by reporters from television stations and newspapers who asked me for details about a death that occurred in our community. On each of those occasions I had to respond by saying, “That information is not mine to share.” When I responded to deaths by suicide to assist loved ones who were left behind, I assured those with whom I met that I would hold in confidence the stories of their loss and grief. While it is important for the public to know the statistics about suicide and to know the scope of the problem, families deserve privacy in their loss and grief. At each meeting of a suicide support group that I facilitated, we reminded all participants that the stories that were shared in the group were not stories that they could share beyond the group.

I have known some brave individuals who have been willing to tell the stories of their loved ones and how they died publicly. Sometimes it can be healing for those grieving to learn that their stories do not have to be hidden out of fear of the stigma attached to death by suicide. Their loved ones made a difference in the world and will be missed by others, some of whom do not know the full story. A few brave survivors have written books about their loss that has helped to guide others in their journeys of grief. But the choice about what and when to share information should belong to those who knew and loved the one who died, not to others. My role has always been clear. I choose to tell my own stories, but not the stories of others.

Having said that much, there are times when I can speak generally of suicide loss and grief. When I know that individuals will not be identified, I can speak of general truths about suicide loss without identifying those involved and invading their privacy.

I have visited with many families who experienced the death of their loved one as a complete surprise and shock. They had no clear that their loved one was contemplating ending their life. They often will say something like, “If I had only known.” But, of course they did not know. Speculating about the past rarely leads to answers and it never leads to a different reality. Part of the unique nature of suicide grief is that often it strikes survivors without warning. A day begins one way and then takes a turn that is totally unexpected. The trauma of loss is compounded by the trauma of surprise.

There are other families, however, who had seen signs and clues of their loved one’s depression. I remember one father telling me, “I have known for a long time that this might be the way his life would end. I tried everything in my power to prevent it, but there was nothing more that i could have done.”

There is no magic formula that applies to all suicide loss.

I retired from my role as a suicide first responder in 2020, in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. The time had come. I had witnessed too much tragedy. I had sat with too many families in the grip of grief. I had filled my brain with too many tragic memories. I needed to shift my role in the community. I ended up moving away from the place where I had served for decades as a member of the community outreach team for survivors of suicide. I left that work to others.

Initially, in the year that followed, it seemed that I had made the right decision. My life had so much less stress than it had had during the years when I was a first responder and frequently rose and dressed quickly in the middle of the night to serve others. And when 2020 drew to a close, I eagerly awaited the statistics and for the first time in my career there was good news. The number of deaths by suicide in 2020 in the United States was lower than the previous year. After year after year of increasing suicide rates, there was a moment of relief. While nearly 4,600 individuals died that year, leaving behind so many grieving loved ones, at least the number was 3% lower than the previous year. I began to hope that some kind of turn around had occurred.

My hope, however, was not complete. The rise in death by suicide resumed in 2021, erasing the temporary gains of 2020 and surpassing all previous years. 2022 saw another increase and in 2023, more than 50,000 people died by suicide in the United States. It was the largest number ever recorded, surpassing the previous record set in 2022 by over 500 deaths.

Calls to the national suicide helpline increased by 100,000 per month last year. Especially alarming about the statistics is the number of young people who are dying of suicide. Suicide is now the second-leading cause of death among Americans under the age of 35. According to researchers at the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), the Covid pandemic could be a contributing factor. Dr. Christine Crawford, psychiatrist and medical director of NAMI, said, “It caused a significant hit on our young people in terms of acquiring the social skills and tools that they need. They were ar those, and they were disconnected from their peers and from the elements that are so critical for healthy development in a young person.” She went on to say that young people who spend a lot of time engaging with internet connected devices are constantly bombarded with images of war and polarizing political messages which can lead to anxiety and depression.

The 2021 public health advisory issued by the US surgeon general on the rising number of youth attempting suicide singled out social media and the pandemic saying they had “exacerbated the unprecedented stresses young people already faced.”

We need to learn to talk about this rising tragedy and we need to do more than just talk. We need specific action to prevent suicide death. We need to provide Applied Suicide Intervention Skills training to all first responders and to all professionals who work with those at risk. We need to raise public awareness about resources for help in times of crisis and we need to expand mental health resources in all of our communities.

I will not tell the stories that I have received in confidence. Neither will I be silent in the face of this continually growing tragedy.