Be the Light: Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Trigger warning: This story depicts one family’s experience with suicide, with insights from our experts on suicide awareness and prevention.

Dodging puddles and raindrops on a Friday afternoon 25 years ago, I headed to the university’s textbook annex to grab what I needed for the fall semester of my senior year. Having just finished the first week of classes, I chatted excitedly with my then-boyfriend (now husband), Jason, about school, my soon-to-be career in journalism, and our future. I weaved in and out of the warehouse isles, grabbing books and tossing them into Jason’s arms. He noted the rainy weather and said he wanted to stop by his parents’ house to check on his dad before we headed home. I remember nodding in agreement as I checked off the required reading list in my hands, fully absorbed in my task.

The day flew by and after exhausting my back-to-school shopping, we arrived at our apartment—soggy, McDonald’s bags in hand, and my checkbook a lot lighter. As we settled in for the evening, the phone rang. I remember the look on Jason’s face when I handed him the phone as someone official sounding on the other end informed him his father was at a nearby hospital and not to arrive alone.

We never made it to stop by and check on his dad that day.

At 43 years old, Timothy Potts ended his life—overdosing on his medications at the local town park on September 10, 1999, leaving behind his pain, but also two adult children who adored him and would carry the heaviness of his loss from those days forward.

This September marks the 25th anniversary of Tim’s passing. It’s not lost on me that he died on World Suicide Prevention Day and his death is honored during Suicide Prevention Awareness Month.

It’s been 25 years of processing his death, trying to understand the immense pain and internal struggle he must have felt which led him to end his life that day. It’s been 25 years of Jason replaying the details in his head, wondering, “If I had stopped to check on him that day would I have been there to intervene again before it was too late?” This wasn’t the first attempt Tim had made to end his life, but this time it was the last.

It’s been 25 years of trying to make sense of a life lost too soon. But to better understand it, we must zoom out to examine the whole picture because it’s not just one moment or one thing that triggers such a devastating action. It’s a culmination of all the little pieces that add up; weighing one down so much that their only perceived solution—their only relief—is to end their life.

Connecting the dots

Tim had a long history and battle with cardiac disease. Open-heart surgery in his 30s left him with many restrictions—cardiac surgery in the late ‘80s was vastly different from what it is today. After his medical leave and recovery, he was hired for several positions doing physical labor only to be let go when they learned about his condition and restrictions. He tried unsuccessfully to return to work and was eventually left with no choice but to leave full-time employment to go on disability.

This certainly impacted Tim’s morale. The financial strain of losing his income compounded with the medical issues he was left with—it all seemed to pile up. Plastic medicine bottles covered the top of their family refrigerator. An already quiet guy, he became even more withdrawn. His depression worsened and he became more isolated. He tried unsuccessfully to end his life three times after his heart surgery. His health declined; the doctors numbered his days.

Looking back, we see a man whose chronic illness deeply affected his mental health—a man who wanted to escape the physical and mental pain he experienced every day, not wanting to “be a burden” on his family.

According to the American Heart Association, “depression after cardiac surgery isn’t uncommon.” There’s a known correlation between those who undergo major open-heart surgery and post-surgical depression. Today, patients and families are informed about the signs and symptoms a loved one could be struggling. They are equipped with tools and resources to support them. At post-op appointments, doctors not only assess their patient’s physical healing but also discuss mental health and address it accordingly using a whole-person approach.

Earlier this year Jason underwent open-heart surgery to replace his aortic valve and a part of his ascending aorta—an extensive, life-saving surgery which required months of rest and rehab. Armed with an amazing team of surgeons, cardiologists, doctors, and nurses using this whole-person approach, in addition to family support, Jason’s story is vastly different from his father’s.

Back then, if Tim’s primary care physician and cardiologists better understood the connection between chronic illness, surgery, and mental health and made it an important part of the conversation – if they informed him and his family of the signs and symptoms of depression and how to access help; if they had the tools and resources to support mental health; if the stigma surrounding mental health issues weren’t so profound – Tim’s story may have been different. But in the late '80s and early '90s, mental health wasn’t discussed openly and the stigma surrounding it was overwhelming.

Chronic illness and suicide

I recently connected with Pathlight Mood & Anxiety Center Regional Clinical Director Ellen Astrachan-Fletcher, PhD, FAED, CEDS-S to reflect on and discuss the whole-person approach in healthcare; the correlation between chronic illness and suicide; and common themes among those who have suicidal thoughts.

“Patients do better when they have social support,” Dr. Astrachan-Fletcher explains. “We know that things like that impact one’s physical wellbeing. But our society says because these medical issues are so serious, that if we’ve got a handle on them, we’re good. If your physical condition is stable, you're through the crisis. And that doesn’t at all consider the impact on one’s emotional well-being.”

She noted the significant shift in providers over the past 20 years as they better understand the crucial connection between mental health and physical recovery and points to Thomas Joiner’s research and Interpersonal Theory on Suicide as a pivotal turning point. The theory outlines three main causes that place a person at the highest risk for suicide:

• Being alone and feeling disconnected from others
• Feeling as if they are a burden
• Having the capability or means to carry out the act

And for those with chronic illness, Dr. Astrachan-Fletcher notes these three indicators are high. Those with chronic illness or recovering from major surgery are often socially isolated or alone as family members return to work. Being out of work or needing help may make them feel they are a burden to others or feel guilty for not being able to do the things they used to. Those recovering from surgery or with chronic illness often have many prescribed medications, giving them the opportunity to overdose on challenging days.

Suicide is among the leading causes of death in the United States. According to 2022 SAMHSA data, that year 3.8 million adults made suicide plans and 1.6 million adults attempted suicide. A quick Google search unveils studies showcasing the correlation between chronic illness and increased suicide risks. We now know it’s an issue that shouldn’t be ignored. It’s critical for patients and their families to understand how chronic illness affects both physical health and mental well-being.

Starting the conversation

Jason was 22 years old when his father, Tim, died. A few years ago, Jason surpassed him in age. He has now lived without his father longer than he had with him. And while we have the facts that surrounded the events of September 10, 1999—we will never know what Tim felt or why he decided to end his life that day, ending his story too soon.

But what we do know is that battling chronic illness, loneliness and depression is hard. Everyone needs a support system to get them through the toughest times. Doing so doesn’t make you a burden; it allows the people who love you the most to step in and lend a hand. Lean on your people.

Talk to your family, friends, support systems, and healthcare providers. Caregivers and friends – ask the questions, even the difficult ones. Look for the signs and offer support. Be the light for someone facing darkness. Acknowledging their struggles and their feelings could open the door to a life-saving conversation.

It’s been 25 years since Tim physically left us, but he lives on through his children and their work to continue to share his story and honor his memory. Despite increased access to resources and improvements made to stomp the stigma around mental health, there's still so much to be done. We’ll continue to breathe life into this conversation in hopes that our words and actions might reach the right person or family at just the right time.

How to connect with the right support

If you or someone you know is battling dark thoughts, connect with a mental health professional today:

• Contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988. If you or a loved one is in immediate danger, please call 911. Access a comprehensive list of suicide prevention resources here.
• To learn more about how you can connect with a mental health professional and get matched with the exact support you need, call 866-576-6702 or fill out a free assessment here.

You are not alone.