September 1st is the first day of suicide prevention month.

I’ve spent the whole day thinking about what I should say online, what I should share, post, or elevate. I’m seeing organizations and groups post awareness content. Events are popping up left and right. And many of my colleagues are acknowledging the first day of this marathon month. It’s our socially acceptable month to plaster our messaging left and right and hope and pray that someone new sees it.

Maybe I’m a little jaded, maybe I’m just low on sleep, but it’s hard for me to scrape together a stock message and add to the echoes that we are so accustomed to this month. I could self-promote about the events I’m lucky to be invited to speak at this month, or say something poignant, profound, and full of hope, but it’s hard. Today, it’s downright hard. Knowing that this month, my content will get a few extra bumps than usual, and this month, I can share openly about the grief that never goes away, and this month, I can even talk about my horribly terrible times – without scaring people away.

But this isn’t the month when all those things add up, or anniversaries eat away at my smile, or I find myself more blue than I’d ever openly admit. This isn’t the month when my hope to help is greatest, because it is always great. This is just the month when it’s more okay.

I think a lot about suicide; I always have. There is a morbid curiosity to it. There is also a healthy curiosity to it. I think a lot about suicide, and I seem to come back to this a lot. Whom would I tell? Who could I actually tell if I was really struggling with the want to live? As many people as I know in this world and at work, I often wonder who is truly safe in my life. And more than that, am I safe in the lives of others?

This work comes down to one simple thing: who would openly accept the darkest part of you without judgment, fear, or a need to fix you. Who would sit in the mud, grime, and shame alongside you and never see you as less. Never remind you of your hard time, and always hold space for your healing to happen when you are ready for it to.

Be someone, for someone. Not just in September, but when they need it most. I hope I am someone at least one of you could count on.

It’s suicide prevention month; unwavering kindness is the best medicine for suicide.