rewind. | joshua dun.

three. | suicide prevention.

it was a week since i introduced avia and tate, and they were almost inseparable. it was cute, but i couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy deep in my gut. me, well, i was still trying to get josh to notice me. pfft, look at
me, i'm pitiful!

but today, the seniors and juniors were having an assembly on bullying. don't know what it's going to say, but i hate these stupid things.

it was about 1:15, and the intercom blared that seniors were now required to make their way into the gym, where the assembly was being held. we all stood and scrambled out the door, most people happy to get out of ap calculus.

once we got in the gym, i noticed avia, josh, and tate sitting together. i furrowed my eyebrows and let out a small growl. part of me wanted to stomp over there and sit my little ass down right beside josh, but i decided against it. i wasn't in the mood today. instead, i sat beside a junior who later, i learned his name was brendon, and he happened to be really funny.

our principal came on the stage and smiled weakly before tapping on the microphone to get our attention. "hello, juniors and seniors. how is everyone today?" a few outbursts erupted from the crowds, but quickly settled down. "good, good. anyways, today, you all are to be silent and respectful for the whole of this video and presentation. thank you, and have a good rest of the day."

he opened the velvet curtains on the stage and sighed before playing the video.

an inaudible gasp came from my lips as pictures from past students popped up randomly on the screen. some only freshmen; i remember.

my heart beat sped up and my hands became sweaty as i tried my hardest not let anything slip. i needed to remain calm. a woman dressed in a suit whom i didn't recognize walked onto the stage and a soft melody played behind her voice as more pictures of the same students replaced each other.

"hello, to the oldest 2 of four years in
wca. my name is heather heath, and i stand for suicide prevention." a statistic and graphs popped up on the big screen behind her.

"this research data tells us that more than 38,000 people will die by suicide in the united states in 2010 – that is one death by suicide every 13.7 minutes. 90% of these people had a diagnosable and treatable mental disorder at the time of their death.

and for everyone who thinks bullying is fun," she spat, eyeing the crowd. "or a way to cope with your own problems, just go ahead and stop. don't do it. in the end you're only hurting more people, including yourself. if you tell someone to kill themselves, and the immense guilt isn't enough to immediately make you regret your own voice, here's something you should worry about: it's actually considered encouraging suicide and you can get a fine of 25,000 dollars and ten plus years in prison. if they listen, and commit, you can be charged with manslaughter. so please, think before you say.

i've gathered here today to raise awareness, decrease the stigma, and support research that will help identify and treat people suffering from mental illnesses, with the ultimate goal of lowering these numbers.

these are the statistics, but we all know that behind every statistical data point mentioned above, there is a real human being; someone that is loved beyond death and who during their life had many hopes and dreams.

the human beings that i stand here for today are these beautiful 6 past students that have been here at this very school before. sadly, 5 out of the six suffered from depression, and whatever their demons were, they became too great to bear. their deaths, though mostly so long ago, still holds more questions than answers, and in many ways defines who i am today, and fuels my passion for suicide prevention.

i stand here today for the families – impacted by the loss. mothers, fathers, grandparents, boyfriend or girlfriend, and buddies they left behind. i stand here because i don't want another sister to learn from a phone call that her brother has died by suicide, or to have to pull a child out of school, explain what suicide is, and then tell her that her sister won't be coming back.

i don't want another parent to have to hear that their child suffered so profoundly, that they just couldn't take it anymore. i don't want any of us to have to suffer that great of a loss."

silent tears streamed down my cheeks, and i heard people whispering beside, behind, and in front of me.

"nor do i want anyone to feel ashamed for having a mental illness. it is not a choice, and often it is treatable. we know that removing the stigma opens the doors to treatment as well as prevention.

just a year after the second death in 2004, i became a suicide prevention specialist. one month after hurricane katrina struck, i flew south to support the new orleans branch of the national suicide prevention lifeline, which was understandably understaffed and ringing off the hook. the time i spent supporting the people that called in to the crisis line was time i spent making sure those 2 - and unfortunate 4 more - deaths from students in this school and surrounding education boards in our area could save the lives of others. i stand here today for these people, too.

my choice, of course, would be to have those students back. i didn't even know them personally, but it truly breaks my heart for the families still dealing with this. but given the reality of the situation, this is how i chose to make meaning of this great loss.

as a thanatologist – and a human being who is a survivor of suicide loss – i know that stigma surrounding a death can impact how well we adjust to life after loss. community support and what we call "meaning making" – such as walking for awareness, raising funds for this fine organization, or listening compassionately to the story told by the person standing next to you – these things help us adapt, cope with, and even grow through our loss. grief research shows that it is not time that heals our loss, but what we do with the time that matters." she paused and then pointed to us with a sad smile.

"i look out at this crowd and i don't see a bunch of numbers – i see a gathering of really special individuals who are willing to work together to ease the suffering of many..." i couldn't stand it anymore.

i quickly got up, using brendon's shoulder as a result of my vision being blurred from the salty tears.

running down the stairs of the bleachers, i ignored calls from teachers and ignorant whispers of students calling me an attention seeker for crying or judging me as my mascara rolled down my cheeks.

but what they didn't know was that the second girl in that video was my sister.