September is Suicide Prevention Month, and for me, it will always be personal.

A few years ago, I lost my dad to suicide. Writing that still feels heavy, but silence only makes the weight heavier.

My dad and I didn’t have a typical relationship. He wasn’t the happiest person—you could say he grumbled about everything. He had a hard upbringing, grew up in a very large family, and carried a lot of pain with him. He dealt with addiction and spent much of my childhood in jail.

But despite all of that—despite his skeletons in the closet—he was trying. He wasn’t sober; he was still drinking heavily. But he wasn’t on drugs anymore, and he was going to therapy while taking medication to help him get through life.

And one thing I will always carry with me: he loved his daughters very much. He just didn’t always know how to show it. For that, I don’t blame him.

When he passed, I was in one of the darkest places of my own life. I had secluded myself from everyone, completely lost in a hole by myself. It was a very lonely place to be. At that time, I had also lost myself through the chaos of new motherhood. Having my son was something I would never change—but I felt like I had disappeared in the process.

Through all of this, though, I’ve found strength I didn’t know I had. His death forced me to look at my own mental health and take it seriously. I went back to therapy, and I started taking medication for depression. Both have helped me step in the right direction, and for that, I’m very thankful.

I often wonder if my dad and I could have connected more deeply about mental health before he passed. We were separately suffering, both carrying our own darkness, but not sharing it with each other. Maybe if those conversations had happened, we would have found a stronger bond.

That’s why Suicide Prevention Month matters to me. Talking about suicide and mental health isn’t easy—but it’s necessary.

If you’ve ever felt like the world would be better without you, I want you to know: you matter, your story isn’t over, and hope is still possible. Reaching out for help isn’t weakness—it’s courage.

This Suicide Prevention Month, I encourage all of us to:

  • Check in on the people we love, even when they seem “okay.”
  • Speak openly about mental health without shame.
  • Share resources so those in need know where to turn.

💜 If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out:

  • 988 – Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text in the U.S.)
  • Mental Health America
  • NAMI – National Alliance on Mental Illness

My dad’s story ended too soon, but his life continues to shape mine. If sharing this helps even one person feel less alone, then his story carries on in a way he never got to see.

Please hold on, ask for help, and know that your life has value beyond measure. 💜

If you’d like to support a brand that gives back to mental health, I’m an affiliate with Find the Good. They partner with Mental Health America, and 10% of proceeds go directly to supporting their work. You can shop through my link here and use my code BRITTANYGABRIEL to save.

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About Opal Bri


Hi, I’m Brittany — a mom, writer, gymnastics coach, and nature lover. I share honest reflections on mental health, relationships, creativity, and everyday life, with the hope that something here makes you feel a little less alone.

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