THE TALKS WE NEED TO HAVE TO END CRISIS
A Suicide Prevention Act and relevant mechanisms worth discussing to arrest harrowing national statistics which are not just the realm of mental health sufferers
IT’S the tragedy that dare not speak its name.
Yet almost every day this week, this paper alone has carried headlines detailing stories of its heartbreaking consequences.
Suicide.
Naming it may still be contentious, but silence can no longer be countenanced.
We read this week of Gold Coast mother Ursula Wharton, who created a harrowing video imploring Australian politicians to do more to help combat teen suicide after the death of her own son. And then we read of Raniera Tamati, the father of two who performed the Haka on the beachfront in Surfers Paradise in a show of love following the Christchurch shootings on March 15, whose family now face a life without him.
While we argue about the left and right of politics, our city is reeling from these stories of life and death.
No one denies suicide is an enormous problem. How can you argue against the following facts: in the year 2019, about 1.53 million people will die from suicide; in Australia alone we’ve reached a record level of eight people per day.
Eight people every day. I read those facts and I look at my two children and their beautiful, happy circle of friends and I shudder to think how this crisis might one day touch them.
I was just eight years old when a close friend, only a few years older, killed himself. His mother and grandfather found his body. My mother sat me down and told me the news in words appropriate for a child, but the feelings were far too big for my little body and brain.
I did not understand then and I do not understand now. I just know I was told on a Wednesday, and I still consider that the worst day of the week.
Which is why I’m investing in the talking cure.
With my own children in that sweet tween spot, full of intelligence and interest but not yet angst, they are learning – again – how to speak.
But instead of mouthing their precious first words, I’m teaching them how to talk about their emotions and how to sit with uncomfortable feelings. Real communication is a muscle they must use daily if it is to perform in a crisis.
It is no immunisation against this suicide epidemic, but right now it is all we have.
Suicide is a problem that has always been, and no doubt will always be, but we can not accept that this national crisis will have no end.
Perhaps there is no “cure’’, but it can get better.
In the UK, the male suicide rate is at its lowest since 1981 – while ours is worse than ever.
Our two cultures are, historically and socially, remarkably similar. So what are we getting wrong?
Or more importantly, what are they getting right?
It turns out, we might already know. Suicide Prevention Australia this week proposed the idea of a federal minister for suicide prevention, and is calling on both major parties to introduce a Commonwealth Suicide Prevention Act, establish a national suicide prevention office and collect better data.
Although this story collected plenty of cynical comments from those who, understandably, consider government intervention the first step towards catastrophe (looking at you, solar panels), it’s beyond obvious that something must be done.
Judging by the UK, this could be the very thing.
The key difference between their federal suicide policy and ours ... is that they have one.
On World Mental Health Day in 2018, the UK Government announced its
own first suicide prevention minister.
“The UK has been ahead of the game, every step along the way,” says psychologist Jill Harkavy-Friedman, vicepresident of research for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, adding that she believes there has been a decrease in the UK suicide rate precisely because a national strategy has been implemented.
There is still great misunderstanding about suicide, with one of the fallacies being the automatic assumption that every victim has mental health issues.
Yet Suicide Prevention Australia chief executive Nieves Murray explicitly says this is not the case.
In fact, coronial data shows fewer than half those who take their own lives have a mental health diagnosis.
Which is why a Commonwealth Suicide Prevention Act would also see Centrelink workers, financial advisers, community housing workers, teachers and others trained to identify people at risk of taking their own lives.
We can only hope that whoever wins at the polls today, they will take Mr Murray’s plea to heart. And that of the Wharton and Tamati families.
If you or someone you know needs help, phone Lifeline on 131 114.