As a Gen Xer, I often find myself in conversations with other parents and friends, who are shocked that kids today—sometimes as young as 10 or 12—are openly talking about suicide. The idea feels outlandish, almost unfathomable. When we were that age, it was unheard of. And if that’s how we “feel”, imagine the Boomers.
Yet, when I stop and think about it, I catch myself questioning why it seems so surprising—especially since I’ve personally struggled with depression my entire life. The first time I felt different, the first time I felt a deep sadness I couldn’t understand, I was in fourth grade. I didn’t know what depression was, but I knew something felt different, I was sad and didn’t have a clue how to talk about it. By sixth grade, I had my first thoughts of suicide.
So, maybe it’s not that these struggles didn’t exist back then—it’s that no one talked about them. I certainly didn’t. I wore a smile like armor. No one would have guessed I was the kid writing dark poetry at night, crying into my pillow. My thoughts were my own because I believed no one could possibly understand what was wrong with me.
That’s why it’s so important that we listen to the kids around us. Pay attention to their actions, the silent cries for help that often go unnoticed. Watch their moods—are they different than they used to be? Who are they spending time with? Have their friendships changed? Are they hanging out with anyone at all? How much are they sleeping? Eating? Talking to you? How much time are they spending on their phone? When they engage with you, do they have an attitude? That attitude may be hurt, it may be a silent cry.
There are so many signs, and sometimes, we just don’t see them. But you might be surprised by what happens when you simply ask, “Hey, what’s going on?” Don’t pressure them—just let them know you’re there. Even if they act like they don’t need you, they do. They need to feel that warmth, that presence, that unwavering support.
This is why I’m passionate about mental health. Because I have lost dear ones to suicide and for far too long, silence was the norm. And silence in this case is not on our side.
And maybe that’s where change really begins—not in having all the right answers, but in creating a space where kids feel safe enough to speak. A space where they don’t have to translate their pain into something more “acceptable” just to be heard. Where they don’t feel dismissed, rushed, or misunderstood.
Because the truth is, kids don’t always say, “I’m struggling.” Sometimes it shows up in withdrawal. In anger. In silence. In the sudden shift you can’t quite explain. And while it’s easy to brush those moments off as “phases” or “attitude,” sometimes they are something deeper—something that needs our attention, not our correction.
We don’t have to be perfect parents or perfect listeners. We just have to be present. To sit with them, even in the uncomfortable moments. To remind them, in both words and actions, that they are not alone in what they’re feeling. That what they feel matters.
And if you’re reading this as someone who once was that child—the one who stayed quiet, who carried more than they knew how to express—I see you too. Your voice matters now, even if it didn’t feel like it did then. And your awareness today could be the very thing that changes someone else’s tomorrow.
Because silence may have been the norm once… but it doesn’t have to be anymore.
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Whether you’re supporting a child or reflecting on your own experiences, having a safe outlet for emotions matters.
💜 Support for Your Healing Journey Through Journaling & Reflection
Healing and forgiveness aren’t things we rush—they’re things we walk through, one step at a time. If you’re in a place where your heart feels heavy, know that you don’t have to carry it alone.
Sometimes having a few gentle tools can help you process what you’re feeling in a safe and meaningful way.
Journaling can be a powerful way to release emotions you may not be ready to say out loud. It gives your thoughts a place to land and your heart room to breathe.
You might also find comfort in devotionals or quiet moments of reflection—small reminders that healing is still happening, even when it feels slow.
And on the days that feel overwhelming, creating a peaceful space—lighting a candle, sitting in stillness, or simply allowing yourself to pause—can help bring a sense of calm when you need it most.
Below are a few things that may gently support you on your journey 🤍
Start Where You Are – Meera Lee Patel
Burn After Writing – Sharon Jones
💭Related Reading on LuvMyCrazy
When Depression Sinks In: The Daily Battle
🤍 Support & Resources
NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness
If you or someone you love is struggling with mental health, grief, or emotional pain, you’re not alone. There are organizations that offer free support, guidance, and community.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline
Call or text 988