Today is National Suicide Prevention Day, and I have a secret.

Whenever I read that suicide is preventable, I want to scream, “except when it isn’t!” 

Harsh, huh? I should rally behind the “preventable” that appears on every suicide awareness website, right? Seems like a reasonable position to take.

But as a parent of a child who died by suicide, here’s what I hear: I could have prevented this. It was preventable. Did I watch for signs? Did I take these 5 important steps to prevent his suicide or ask these 3 tough questions that every parent should ask? Suicide is preventable. Did I bring in proper professionals? Did I blah, blah, blah at the right time, in the right way, at the right place?

Well yes, I did blah, blah, blah – and more. We did everything we possibly could, based on the information we had and what we thought was best. Everything. Yet the guilt is still capable of condemning and crippling, which is why I see a trauma therapist every week.

How the “preventable” message makes me feel is my deal. It’s my thorn that I need to intentionally and painfully remove, my burden to bear until I finally accept that I can’t — I won’t — carry that weight of guilt and regret any longer. Until it doesn’t hurt to hear that suicide is preventable.

The message of prevention is intended to give hope and instill confidence that you can make a difference in saving someone’s life. It fuels advocacy and education. If we didn’t think suicide was preventable, after all, we wouldn’t be raising our voices to sound an alarm or promote 988 as the new suicide hotline. 

Personally I wouldn’t feel compelled to share our story with complete strangers, or encourage other parents to have uncomfortable conversations with their kids, or tell weary teenagers why their story needs to continue. I wouldn’t put my pain out there for others if I didn’t think it could serve a purpose. 

That purpose is to prevent suicide, plain and not-so-simple. I don’t want anyone to go through what I have. More importantly, I don’t want anyone to go through what my son did. My agony is surpassed only by his. 

Suicide is preventable — even if it wasn’t in our case.