R U OK?

Just a few days ago a much loved young man took his own life, leaving in his wake a shattered family, heartbroken friends and a devastated community. The anguish now endured by everyone who knew and loved my cousin, especially his parents and sisters, is agonising. And yet, tragically, the only comparable torment is probably what he himself suffered. It is inexplicably sad. The darkest of clouds with no silver lining.

It is a wretched reminder that mental health is the most precious blessing any of us can count. Without it, nothing else matters. Without the anchor of mental health to guide us through trouble, each one of us is vulnerable to languish in the depths of depression. In a place more lonely and isolated than anywhere on earth. In the grips of depression, judgement is compromised.

My understanding is that the decision to end your own life cannot be viewed through the prism of rational thought. It is not an emotional choice or a logical decision. It is the resolution when someone feels there is no resolution. Because they can't see beyond their torture. In that moment, for them, an alternative is impossible to imagine. And yet to everyone else, the only impossible, unimaginable scenario is the very one they carry out.

For anyone with uncompromised mental health, there are so many options. But for those who suffer, there are none. At least none they can see. One of the infinite cruelties of suicide is that it marks the end of one tragedy with the beginning of another. And neither really ever ends. And so there is sadness and grief and despair and pain. There is anger and frustration and fury. There is disbelief and sorrow and many many tears. There is no peace.

As I mourn for my cousin, and his family, I remember him. As a larrikin, as my little brother's hero, as my funny, likeable and much-loved cousin. Most of my memories transpired on the property where he grew up. Where we would spend many school holidays, learning precisely how unprepared and incompetent us 'city' dwelling cousins were for life on the land.

We played countless games of Round-The-World in their garden, entertained ourselves with motorbikes, horses, fences and other farming implements we were not really equipped to handle. We made him take part in our silly pretend games of hotels inside the house. I remember how he let my little brother, young enough to display unadulterated admiration, shadow his every move, all day long. I remember how he made us all laugh always. I remember him as the cousin we all loved.

The last few times I saw him, we had all grown up and real life had stumbled upon us. I can't fathom that it's now no longer upon him. I wish more than anything I have ever wished that we could turn the clock back a few days and erase all of this. But we can't. Instead we will miss and mourn a man who was loved. Whose life was too short.

Tomorrow is R U Ok? Day. It is a suicide prevention initiative that started last year and the idea is to ask someone you love, if they're ok. To give them an opportunity to open up, to start a conversation that might change their life. If you know anyone that you suspect is struggling, please ask if they're ok. And if they say they are ok, and you suspect they're not, just keep talking. And don't just do it tomorrow. Ask every time you suspect someone isn't doing ok. Because these conversations don't need to be difficult to start. And they could start the end of real difficulty.

And most importantly, if you're not feeling ok yourself, please tell someone. Call a friend and tell them you're not ok. That sentence will likely be incredibly hard to utter but if you reach out you will discover there is a queue of people a mile long who will do whatever you need them to, to help you through. No one will want you not to be ok.