I’m ashamed to admit it took my son dying by suicide to want to know more about suicide statistics. I only knew one statistic... 22. 22 veterans die each day by suicide (but do they really? – read on...). Then my son was a veteran suicide statistic. Now I’m hungry to know all about suicide. Because I have declared war on suicide. There still will be casualties, but that number is going down! The vile darkness of suicide will be pushed back and away.
The Art of War, an ancient work on universal military tactics (which are still used to this day), insists you must know your enemy (and yourself) if you’re to win your battle. First thing’s first, I do not know my enemy yet. I don’t. I don’t know how it, that is suicide, works, how it infiltrates and infects minds. Which minds are more vulnerable and how we can take it out at the knees.
What I believe is suicide has always been a thing. It’s in the Bible. King Saul fell on his sword instead of dying by an enemy hand. Judas killed himself after his betrayal of Christ. I believe it’s always been here, but that it is growing in ferocity and number. I believe it is not only a physical battle but waged at a spiritual level as well. I believe we, as in all of us, can affect change in the number of suicides that happen every day.
I don’t know much yet, but I’ve learned some things…
What I have learned since Jake’s June 30th death-by-suicide is that the 22 a day statistic is irrefutably, verifiably skewed. Though he is one of many, and even one is too many, the daily average for veteran suicide is lower than 22. What is the veteran suicide rate then if not the infamous 22? I’m still trying to flesh that one out.
The VA has a lot of “age and sex adjusted” rates. I’m not sure what that means (is it code for “let’s try not to make it look as bad as it actually is” or “let’s adjust it to make it even for all ages and sexes”?). What they did say clearly in a 2022 report/analysis on veteran suicide, or as clearly as any government report can, is suicide is the second leading cause of death for veterans (male and female) aged 18-34 (and males through age 44)… so if you have a young veteran WATCH THEM!
Generally speaking, I’ve learned suicide is the second leading cause of death for young people up to the age of 24. A suicide happens every 11 minutes. There are warning signs. There are approximately 25 attempts before a successful suicide. (These previous facts were gleaned from a Suicide 101 training this month).
I’ve learned that about 60% of suicide attempts are successful the first time, the majority of those were with guns, it is one of the ten most common ways to die BUT psychiatric intervention significantly reduces the risk of successful suicide. I’ve learned about 14% of the population has considered suicide, and according to a QPR training I took years ago… the #1 predictor of a suicide is a previous attempt in the last 12 months.
I also learned that the “R” means REFER, as in refer someone suicidal to professionals for help. And I tell you all our referral system is BROKEN!
​That’s what I know for now. If you want to be in the conversation, have a fact to share or are otherwise affected or drawn to the suicide prevention battle, message me: [email protected]

 This summer my son died. He was not well. It was suicide. What else is there to write? What else is there to tell?
That's how it is for me right now. I want to tell everyone he is gone and that's really all I want to talk about. I want to stand on the tallest mountain and scream it to the world, "My son is dead! Gone. He should be here." I want to tell it to the cashier in the grocery store, "My son was a Marine. Was. Because he's dead now." I want everyone, everywhere to know my sadness, my sorrow, my pain, but not everyone can and, seriously, I don't wish it on anyone, and, well, it's awkward and quite honestly a buzz kill to shout stuff like that.
Grief, I've been told, does what it wants and is unique for each one of us. Knowing that, I wonder if I'm the only one that's ever wanted to do that. To MAKE them know (who is them? All of them, the whole entire world) know a piece of my very existence is GONE from life for good. Am I the only one that randomly cries when grief throat punches me with a song, a thought, a photo and doesn't want anyone to see my sorrow while simultaneously wanting them all to see exactly that... and care! Care that my world is irretrievably broken. Am I the only one who wants to sleep and sleep and sleep and hide away from all of life to make it all stop spinning... the world... the thoughts in my head... all of it? Am I the only one who saw it coming and yet didn't think this would ever really happen? Am I the only one?
What I've found is, though I may grieve differently than anyone else (and that's my right because you get to grieve however you want) there are elements of sameness in each of us who has to. We have all loved and lost and that similarity alone is enough to do things to humanity. It gives me comfort that I'm not all alone. Some know, and though I'm sorry for their loss too, and wish with all my heart they didn't, and I didn’t know, we do. We know it. We feel grief. I'm immensely grateful for those who mourn, for they have comforted me. Their presence and guidance in this gauntlet, as one of them called it, is salve to my wounded soul even as I walk this path.
I am new to this journey and they assure me… it changes EVERYTHING! I’m starting to believe them. Jake’s loss has forced me, not surprisingly, to evaluate my relationship with him... the “what-ifs” and “if-onlys” of course, but also, surprisingly, shockingly actually every... single... other part and parcel of my life. My writing hasn't escaped evaluation anymore than my day job, or what we named our new Airbnb... Grief has a python hold on my life and whether I want to or not... I must go on, but where I go from here will forever be different...
I had a mission statement for my life. I created it more years ago than I can count. I made one revision to it just before my world shut down… or maybe it happened when the whole wide world shut down. Whenever it was, and ever since then, my mission statement for life has been, “I live and write to elicit raw, honest emotion; to keep kids safe; and to reveal the soul-saving truth of Jesus Christ.” I thought over it and pondered it and truly believed this segmented sentence really did wrap up the sum total of who I am.
Then this.
My boy. My son. My self-professed Payback Kid. Flesh of my flesh... is gone. Dead by suicide, accompliced by PTSD and alcohol. My life will never be the same. I cannot be the same. I am different. I am changed. My mission in life has therefore forever changed too. I’m not exactly sure how it’ll change my actual mission statement, but I know I can’t be “just sad” about another single suicide. I have to “do” something to rage against it. It is evil and taking too many people. I hate suicide for taking my son and so many others I have loved, known and heard of who were themselves loved.
Suicide is like cancer... and you know what? People had enough of cancer robbing lives and fought against it. It’s not eradicated but they’ve dialed in treatments, survival rates are up, prognoses are better and it’s because people put effort into understanding how it works and destroying it.
I want to destroy suicide! I am in a fight to stop this statistic from rising. I MUST do what I can to analyze and figure out the enemy suicide and its alibis and weaken their forces and slow, slow, slow the death-by-suicide rate. May the Lord be with me, help and equip me for this mission this journey, this battle!
​If YOU are interested in joining the fight too, email me at: [email protected] the goal to start is to meet monthly and bring what we can to the table, lay it out and see what we can do to know our enemy better and weaken it.