Patchwork Piece #1: Despair Cannot Know What Comes Next

September is Suicide Prevention Month, and I've hesitated about writing anything at all. I am aware that we're nearly into October, and I have struggled to post this blog. It's not because I don't care, but because I'm not sure I have anything new to say.

Like many people, I have experienced the impact of suicide. I have seen the devastation it leaves behind. The shock. The grief. The unanswered questions. The way it can tear through families, friendships and communities, leaving lives changed forever.

What I find myself returning to is a simple thought:

Death is final. Pain is not.

When emotional pain becomes overwhelming, it can convince us that nothing will ever change. It can make today feel endless and tomorrow impossible to imagine.

But feelings change.

Circumstances change.

Lives change.

What feels unbearable now may not always feel this way.

This is not about minimising suffering. Nor is it about pretending that hope comes easily when you're struggling to get through the day.

It is about remembering that, however convincing despair may feel, it cannot know the future.

When I think about the people I have lost, what saddens me most is not only their absence. It is the loss of everything that might have been.

The conversations that were never had.

The opportunities for healing.

The relationships that may have grown.

The experiences never lived.

The moments of joy that never had the chance to arrive.

The future they never got to see.

Because despair can be very persuasive. It can tell us that nothing will change, that nothing will help, and that there is no way forward.

But despair cannot know what comes next.

It cannot know who you have yet to meet.

What support you may yet find.

What part of yourself is still waiting to emerge.

What tomorrow might bring.

There is no shame in saying, "I can't do this alone."

There is no shame in reaching out.

There is no shame in needing help.

If you're struggling today, please tell someone. A friend. A family member. A therapist. A helpline. Someone who can sit alongside you for a while.

Not because anyone can promise that things will get better overnight.

Not because the path ahead is always clear.

Not because hope comes easily.

But because despair does not know the future.

It cannot know what healing might still be possible.

What connection might still be waiting.

What joy might still find its way back to you.

Or what life you have yet to live.

If you're struggling today, please stay.

Not because you know what comes next.

But because despair doesn't know either.