Column: Mental-health speak is good – trust a survivor

Wednesday 10 September was World Suicide Prevention Day, when thousands shared their mental-health stories openly.

Thirteen years ago, as a 16-year-old suicide-attempt survivor, that felt impossible.

Let me take you back to 2012. Everyone was still caught up in the Gangnam-style frenzy, no-one knew what TikTok was, and at Gordon High there had been an incident that rocked the school.

A boy had jumped off the balcony, causing the entire school to stop in its tracks.

I was that boy, on a day that will live forever in my very marrow, in my memory. I was given the nickname Superman and always had the words “I want to go to hell”, the final words I shouted to a teacher before jumping, thrown back at me. There were those who felt my behaviour was attention-seeking.

After two weeks of mental recovery I returned ready to share my story, but no-one was ready nor willing to listen. It was still taboo to speak about mental health.

Those were the days before mental-health vernacular such as “trigger warnings”, “Mental Health Day” or “toxic” were interwoven into our daily language.

I was allowed to talk about my experience, but only in a way that didn’t disturb anyone, which basically meant I couldn’t share at all.

Roshni Parbhoo-Seetha, project manager for Education at the South African Depression and Anxiety Group (Sadag), confirmed she has noticed a real shift in how we speak about and respond to suicide survivors.

“In 2012 mental health was barely spoken about at schools. Survivors often felt silenced, judged or ashamed. One of the biggest misconceptions is that a suicide attempt amounted to ‘attention-seeking’.”

When I left high school I prayed I would escape the Superman moniker, but every so often I would hear it on the train or at some random place.

However, by the time I started my studies I could feel the winds of change around me.

In 2014 a movie came out that I feel changed everything with one singular line, “Feelings demand to be felt”.

The Fault in Our Stars (adapted from the novel) made people understand that suppressing feelings was no longer an option; these need to be expressed.

I have never had a problem talking about my experience with mental health or suicidal ideation. My job means asking people to be vulnerable with me, and I feel it would be hypocritical if I didn’t do the same.

Parbhoo-Seetha has also seen these changes. “Today, while stigma hasn’t disappeared completely, there’s far more openness and willingness to listen. Survivors are increasingly being seen as brave individuals who deserve care, not as people to be blamed.

“Many schools are now actively inviting Sadag in to run workshops. Teachers are more aware and learners are more open to asking for help.”

I am truly grateful for a universal language on mental health. I see this in my work with people all over the world. If a domestic abuse survivor from America, a stalking victim from Australia, and an endometriosis patient from Strand all understand the question, “How did that affect your mental health?”, and can openly express their feelings, I believe that is a win.

Feelings demand to be felt and expressed.