We need to talk more about mental health – but it is more than a conversation!

Beyond Awareness: The Reality of Supporting Someone in Crisis

This year, conversations about suicide and mental health have become more visible in public forums. The tragic deaths of Adam and Troy Selwood sparked important dialogue across the media, the football community, and the wider public about mental health, connection, and what it truly means to support one another.

More recently, Bailey Smith’s openness about his own mental health challenges and his decision to seek support through a treatment program, reinforced the importance of speaking up and reaching out.

These moments are building momentum, with increasing calls for a dedicated mental health round in the AFL. The message we hear often is: “We need to talk more.”

And we absolutely do.
But it’s also more than that.

When I hear that someone has died by suicide, my heart aches, both as a psychologist and as a human being. I think of the people I sit with in crisis. I think of families navigating unimaginable grief. I think of the silence and complexity that often surround these experiences.

Grief is never linear. It is messy, unique, and shaped by love, loss, time, support, and care. There is no ‘right’ way through it… but kindness, presence, and genuine connection can carry people a long way.

Beyond a Round and a Hashtag

There’s talk of introducing a dedicated mental health round in football…and I get it. It’s a meaningful gesture. Visibility matters. Awareness matters.

But if we stop there, we’re missing the heart of it.

Conversations about mental health aren’t just about talking. They’re about trust. Timing. Safety. Language. They’re about readiness, on both sides.

So the real question is: why aren’t these conversations happening more often?

If you're the one in distress:

• You might worry about being a burden.

• You might not want to cause more stress for someone else.

• You might not have the words.

• You might not know who feels safe.

• You might fear judgement or dismissal.

• You might think: If I tell them, will I just end up needing to comfort them too?

And if you're the one who cares:

• You might be scared of what they’ll say.

• You might not know how to respond.

• You might fear saying the wrong thing or making it worse.

• You might not want to know the truth because it feels too confronting.

• You might just feel… helpless.

These are not signs of failure. They’re signs of just how complex and human this space is.

Even as a psychologist, someone trained to have these conversations, I’ll be honest: it’s still hard. 

It should be. 

I never want to become desensitised to someone’s pain or the weight of that question:
“Are you having thoughts of suicide / ending your life?”

It’s confronting because it matters. Because behind the question is a person. A real human life.

To the Person in Crisis

Please. Reach out. You don’t have to phrase it perfectly. You don’t have to explain everything. Start with a message. A code. A trusted emoji. A quiet word. A written note. Whatever helps you signal: I’m not OK, and I need support.

Talk to someone you trust, a mate, a family member, your coach, your GP, a therapist, a colleague. You are not alone, and you are not a burden.

If their reaction feels big, that’s not because you’ve done something wrong. It’s because they care and maybe don’t know what to do. But you started the most important part: the reaching out.

To the Person Who Cares

You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be there.

Ask the question. Sit beside them. Listen without needing to rush in with advice. Let them know they don’t have to carry it alone, and neither do you.

Build a support crew. Don’t be the only one holding the weight. Create a web of care, professionals, friends, mentors, family… so that everyone, including you, feels supported in the process.

And know this:
You are not responsible for someone’s suicidal thoughts. But your presence, your love, and your ability to sit with them without judgment? That can be a life raft.

Let’s Talk About All of It

Let’s normalise every part of these conversations:

• How to ask for help.

• How to receive a cry for help.

• How to build a team around someone in crisis.

• How to look after yourself while supporting someone else.

Mental health is not just a moment. It’s a network. It’s connection. It’s complexity. And it’s ongoing.

No one should have to carry their pain in silence.
No one should have to hold someone else’s crisis alone.
Let’s move beyond awareness and into shared responsibility, compassion, and real action.

Because we all have a role in this. And none of us are in it alone.