Talking to My Kids About My Suicidal Thoughts

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As I switched the radio to NPR while navigating through side streets to dodge the heavy traffic, my children and I tuned into the evening news—a ritual we share on our drives home. My youngest was kicking the back of my seat, while my oldest, with a face smeared in mud from playing outside, sat in the car seat behind me, his hair a mess from soccer practice. This moment took me back three years, to when he was just six. Just as we hit a pothole, the news anchor reported the tragic loss of a beloved comedian to suicide.

“What does that mean?” my son asked, prompting me to take a moment to respond thoughtfully. “Why would someone do that?”

These discussions can be quite challenging. Many parents grapple with whether their children are ready to hear about such complex and heartbreaking topics. Some may wish to protect their young ones from the painful realities they themselves have faced, especially if they’ve lost someone close to suicide. Finding a way to process these feelings is difficult enough, let alone discussing them with kids. Is it even appropriate?

For me, it feels like a necessary honesty. Suicidal thoughts often intrude on my daily life, disrupting my thoughts much like reminders for tasks that pop into my head during mundane activities. They linger, creating an ache in my chest, akin to a secret that I must keep hidden from my loved ones. It’s like a persistent whisper that accompanies me on my way to work, reminding me of my flaws and insecurities.

As a survivor of trauma, I’ve come to understand that healing involves more than just therapy or returning to daily routines. It requires accepting that these feelings may emerge unexpectedly, like unwelcome guests that take residence in my mind without warning.

Now, we gather around the dinner table, forks clinking against plates as I prepare a colorful salad filled with fresh vegetables. The kids laugh and playfully create funny faces with their food. As we sit down, I hear the news mention another suicide, and my heart sinks. I quickly instruct Alexa to play some music to drown out the distressing report. A familiar wave of anxiety washes over me.

When my children ask about the thoughts of suicide, I struggle to articulate my experience. I can’t share the graphic nature of my darker thoughts—feelings that seem to poison my mind. Instead, I explain that sometimes my mind drifts into darker spaces, even while I’m physically present, folding laundry or helping with homework. I reassure them that I don’t wish to end my life; rather, these intrusive thoughts can be overwhelming, even if they don’t make sense.

I talk to them about the possibility that they might encounter similar feelings someday, and that it doesn’t reflect poorly on their character. Just as certain families may face diabetes or cancer, my family has a history of mental health struggles, and it’s crucial to acknowledge that we can’t navigate these challenges alone. I emphasize the importance of seeking help when needed, and the reality that many people we love might be experiencing similar battles, even if they haven’t voiced it.

We discuss various coping mechanisms—how some express themselves through dance and music, while my father found solace in humor and I find mine in writing and community support. The silence at the table can be heavy, and I often struggle to fill it with the right words, feeling the weight of their young minds absorbing this complex conversation.

Recently, the news reported on several tragic suicides related to traumatic events, a topic my kids were already curious about. I wish the news would cover lighter subjects, but this is the world we live in. Our children are used to practicing safety drills at school, preparing for potential dangers that, unfortunately, exist. Perhaps that is what I am doing too—equipping them with the knowledge and tools to face difficult realities.

I want my children to feel comfortable asking me about my mental health, and I hope they never hesitate to share their feelings with me. So, we have these awkward and uncomfortable conversations about suicide. It’s not easy, but it’s essential.

In conclusion, while discussing suicidal thoughts with children is no simple task, it is a conversation that can lead to understanding and openness. It’s vital to create an environment where difficult topics can be addressed, providing the support needed for both parents and children.

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