Suicide is a topic that often remains shrouded in silence, stigma, and misunderstanding, yet it touches nearly all of us. In Canada alone, about 4,500 people die by suicide each year — an average of 12 daily — with more than 200 attempting and many more thinking about suicide. Behind these numbers are stories of pain, resilience, and complexity that defy simple explanations.
Having worked in various clinical settings supporting individuals with high-risk forensic backgrounds, addictive disorders, and histories of trauma, I’ve witnessed firsthand how suicide can emerge from places both expected and unexpected. Some clients I worried deeply about survived. Others, who seemed “okay,” died by suicide. This unpredictability taught me a vital truth: there is no single profile for suicide risk. And that’s why understanding must replace judgment.
To this day, I can still picture and remember each former client I’ve worked with who attempted or died by suicide. Their stories stay with me, not just as memories but as lessons. As a mental health professional, I’ve come to accept that I cannot control outcomes. What I can control is my commitment to evolving my toolbox by expanding my knowledge, sharpening my skills, and deepening my compassion.
Through years of clinical work and research, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with individuals who survived suicide attempts—people who, despite immense emotional pain, found the courage to move forward and face their pain head-on. These conversations have shaped my understanding in ways textbooks never could.
Suicide in the workplace: What it looks like and why it matters
Workplaces are not immune to suicide. In fact, they can be breeding grounds for silent suffering. High-stress environments, toxic cultures, job insecurity, and lack of mental health support can all contribute to suicidal ideation.
Examples of warning signs in the workplace that an employee could be at risk of suicide include:
- Sudden emotional changes (for example, seeming exceptionally calm after distress)
- Withdrawal, absenteeism, or presenteeism
- Comments such as “I won’t be around much longer”
- Giving away personal items or tying up loose ends
But sometimes there are no signs. That’s why caring cultures and promoting the value of trusted social connections and peer support in the workplace matter more than checklists.
Talking about suicide saves lives – not the opposite
One of the most persistent myths about suicide is that talking about it increases the risk. The opposite is true. Open, honest conversations about suicide can be lifesaving. They create space for people to share their pain before it becomes unbearable. They allow others to notice subtle shifts, offer support, and guide someone toward help.
When we talk about suicide without judgment, fear, or shame, we create off-ramps—opportunities to ask for help or at least ask questions. Proactive awareness, education, and reinforcement can create opportunities for conversations long before someone reaches the Utopia Decision.
By normalizing these discussions, we create a culture of care. And nowhere is this more urgently needed than in the workplace, with all the adversity that many employees now face, including financial uncertainty, relationship breakdowns, employment fears, and mental health challenges.
My most profound personal discovery on the topic of suicide
What I’m about to share isn’t a clinical term. It’s a concept I developed from listening to the lived experiences of those who came back from the edge. One of the most profound phenomena I’ve encountered is something I call the “Utopia Decision.”
To the best of my understanding, the Utopia Decision appears to be a spontaneous internal resolution. It occurs when emotional pain becomes so overwhelming that the person decides to end their life.
But here’s the paradox: this decision can bring a sense of peace for some. What became clear to me in these complex personal moments is that the resolution was not about wanting to die—it was about wanting the pain to stop. And once that decision was made, the internal struggle and pain for many were reported to quiet.
One challenge is that once this decision is made, it comes without notice. To onlookers, the person they care about may appear calm, even content. Knowing the person is down, those around them may feel a sense of relief because it seems they’re finally “doing better.”
When I reflect on the Utopia Decision, I don’t see it as merely clinically relevant. I see it as a window into the reality that suicide is complex, deeply personal, and often invisible. What struck me most in listening to survivors was the counterintuitive outcome this emotional decision created.
For some — not all — deciding to end their life brought a sense of clarity and calm. That clarity, paradoxically, created space for the person to appear as though they were thriving. In some cases, the period of calm I encountered lasted for days; in others, weeks. Once the decision was made, the person allowed themselves to move from what I call point A (the decision) to point B (the attempt).
During this time, the individual might seem calm, joyful, or even engaged. They may reconnect with loved ones, participate in activities they once enjoyed, and appear to be “doing better.” But to outsiders, this can be deeply misleading. Internally, the person has made what feels like an emotional trade: the pain will end soon, and that brings relief.
When I asked clients why they hadn’t reached out for help, their answers varied. Some spoke of stigma, others of shame, and many expressed a deep belief that there was no hope, no solution, and nothing anyone could do. In those moments, I often offered a metaphor: when my car breaks down, I open the hood. I may not know what’s wrong, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an answer. The same applies to emotional pain. Just because someone doesn’t see a solution doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.
For many, the limiting belief was that their suffering was unsolvable. They had never been taught what suicidal thoughts are, how common they can be, and—most importantly—that there is no shame in having them. Suicidal ideation is not a moral failing; it’s the brain’s desperate attempt to find a way to stop pain.
This is why education matters. When we normalize conversations about suicide, we reduce fear and stigma. We open doors to support before someone reaches the point of emotional collapse.
Lessons learned from the Utopia Decision
- Suicide is often about ending pain, not life.
- Calmness can be a warning sign, not a recovery.
- Emotional shifts may mask deeper internal struggles.
To truly support mental health, suicide education must be a core part of every psychological health and safety program. It increases awareness, reduces stigma, and empowers people to recognize signs, respond with compassion, and guide others toward help. Silence doesn’t protect people; understanding does.
Understanding this Utopia Decision phenomenon has reshaped how I listen, how I support, and how I teach others to respond. It’s a reminder that what we see on the surface may not reflect the storm within—and that our willingness to be present, open, and compassionate can make all the difference. This is why it is beneficial to ensure that every employee has a best friend, trusted support, and clarity on mental health resources—reinforced more than just at onboarding.
Preventing suicide risk requires intention and planning
Workplaces are often where many employees spend most of their waking hours, with some estimates reaching up to 90,000 hours. They can be sources of connection or social isolation. Stress, burnout, job insecurity, job demands, and toxic environments can contribute to emotional distress. Creating a workplace that actively prevents suicide and supports mental health requires more than policies—it demands a culture of care, awareness, and action.
The following steps can help get a workplace on track:
Normalize mental health conversations: Foster a culture where emotional well-being is openly discussed, not hidden or stigmatized. Encourage leaders and managers to share their mental health experiences to model vulnerability and reduce shame. Integrate mental health check-ins into team meetings and performance reviews to make support part of everyday dialogue.
Equip staff with crisis response training: Provide training programs such as ASIST (Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training) and Crisis Ready Interventionist™, which offer tools to recognize signs of suicidal ideation and respond effectively.
Train leaders to feel comfortable asking direct, compassionate questions—such as “Are you thinking about suicide?”—without fear, judgment, or avoidance. Ensure that leaders know their role is to open conversations, help employees access support, report suicide threats to HR, and follow up intentionally.
Leaders are not therapists; they are pillars of support. Reinforce that asking about suicide does not increase risk; it opens the door to lifesaving conversations.
Build robust support systems: Offer Employee and Family Assistance Programs (EFAPs) that provide confidential access to counselling and mental health resources. Educate employees on their benefits coverage and ensure they are aware of the Suicide Crisis Helpline (9-8-8), available 24/7.
Establish peer support networks and designate mental health champions within teams to create safe, approachable points of contact.
Ensure employees know how to access crisis lines, on-call professionals, and community resources—especially during off-hours.
Design work environments that heal: Promote inclusion and connection to reduce isolation and foster belonging. Use workplace risk assessments to understand psychosocial risks and hazards that may contribute to stress.
Institute a psychological health and safety program that includes prevention and support, and monitor impact using a Plan-Do-Check-Act approach.
Suicide is not always loud. It can be quiet, calm, and hidden behind smiles. That’s why we must listen more deeply, respond more gently, and act more boldly. Understanding the Utopia Decision can provide a lens into the emotional paradox of suicide.
It reminds us that what we see on the surface may not reflect the storm within. And it calls us to be open and non-judgmental, to be present, and to keep checking in with those we care about—even when they appear to be “fine.”
Let’s stop asking, “Why didn’t they say something?” and start asking, “How can we make it safe for them to ask for help?” Because sometimes being there with compassion, curiosity, and the courage to care can create space for the help that’s needed.
