Good morning, and thank you for joining us. I am a counsellor from the Samaritan Befrienders Hong Kong. We will soon mark World Suicide Prevention Day on 10/9, and we wish to deliver a message.

 

This year, and through 2026, the global theme of the day will be “Changing the Narrative on Suicide. We believe it means moving from silence and stigma revolving around the topic of suicide to honesty and support. It also means transforming a taboo into a conversation that is safe, human, and hopeful.

 

     ​Imagine when suicide is mentioned, what comes to your mind? For some, it’s fear. For others, shame. Sometimes it could be confusion of those around the suicidal person,thinking “Why didn’t I see the signs?” But often, it’s silence.

 

In our clinical work, we often encounter people who carry heavy stories behind seemingly calm faces. They could be students, parents, or even professionals; most of them appear “healthy” by society’s standards. But we believe health should not be a mask you wear. When it should be your relationship with your whole self, including the parts that hurt deeply. The parts that we wish to be nonexistent.

 

We grow up in a world that puts a score on everything, such as grades, performance, followers, and likes. We learn, often without words, that love can only be earned by getting a high score. The pressure of failing to earn love teaches us to hide. To always keep a ‘healthy’ mask on, so we could avoid burdening others. The development of social media might have strengthened this distorted lesson. And when the highlight reel becomes the standard, our pain feels like a failure.

 

Preventing suicide asks something braver and more compassionate of us, to admit that every one of us has a shadowed/darker side and to bring those parts into the light where support is possible. This darker side of us could contain personal moments of doubt, anxiety, loneliness, grief.

 

We often turn mental health into something clinical or even shameful when it should be part of everyday health. Changing the narrative means we stop pathologizing normal struggles. Making it okay to say, “I’m not sleeping well,” “My stress is too much,” or “I’d like to talk to someone.”

 

We also wish to stress the importance of getting care that feels humane instead of the current models that are predominantly medical. We need choices about who you see, what approach you try, and how often you go. Therapeutic settings that feel welcoming, not like you’re being “admitted” or judged. If you’ve had a discouraging experience before, know that it’s okay to try a different provider, a different style, or even start with an emotional helpline to ease in.

 

​If you’re listening tonight and you’re struggling, we have a question for you: can you set the mask down, even a little? Not forever, just for long enough to be honest with yourself and one trusted person. How much of your own sadness, anger and other negative feelings can you allow yourself to notice without judgment?

 

Know that pain is a signal, not a sentence. And reaching out is a skill, not a weakness. If words are hard, try simple ones: “I’m not okay.” “Can you listen?” “I need help.” If a call feels too much, text, message, or write a note. Small openings can become lifelines as we ‘ve seen in our clinical experience.

 

For those who care for someone at risk, you don’t need perfect phrases. You need presence. Try these: “I’m glad you told me.” “I’m here. Let’s find help together.”

 

Ask directly if you’re worried about someone: “Are you thinking about suicide?” The question does not plant the idea; it opens the door to safety.

 

​ If you or someone you know is in overwhelming stress, please consider calling our emotional hotline at 2389 2222. If you prefer to speak in English, call our English hotline 2389 2223, which is open from 6:30 pm to 10:00 pm on weekdays. If you need to talk, reach out, as you matter, and your story is still being written.

 

Before we close, we’re sharing the song “The End of the World.” By Skeeter Davis. Its timbre holds that quiet desperation many of us know. We wish to deliver the message that it’s okay to hear that desperation, both your own and of others’, and to meet it gently, like a night breeze.

 

As the lyrics go, “Why does the sun go on shining? … Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?” And, “I wake up in the morning, and I wonder why everything’s the same as it was.” That feeling of incompatibility between the outer world and personal inner storm is real. Let the song sit beside you, not as an ending, but as permission to feel, and to reach for support.

 

If those feelings feel heavy tonight, please reach out to someone you trust or a local hotline.

 

Thank you for listening. Take care of yourselves, and if you could, take care of one another.