Health | Suicidal thoughts are terrifying and isolating. This survivor is “living proof” that recovery is feasible.

Mary Lawal was 8 years old when she first attempted suicide.

The details about Lawal, now a 22-year-old psychology student at Prince George's Community College, have grow to be blurred over time. She doesn't remember the circumstances that led to her attempt — was she arguing together with her parents? A fight together with her siblings? — and even knowing that suicide was a possibility as a baby. She has only a vague memory of feeling lonely and unlovable.

“I don’t think I really knew what I was doing,” she said.

In the last twenty years general suicide rateS within the USA have increased by greater than a 3rd. They are also Children aged 8 to 12 — especially amongst young girls. Nearly one in ten highschool students in Maryland reported having attempted suicide not less than once within the 12 months ending in fall 2022, in keeping with a survey by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

But there are reasons to be hopeful. For two years, in Maryland and across the country, the 988 Suicide and Crisis Hotline has made it easier to ask for help. And earlier this month US Representative Jamie Raskina Democrat from Maryland, introduced a bill that will create a federal grant program to support evidence-based models for stabilizing individuals with serious suicidal thoughts. Raskin lost his son to suicide in December 2020.

While suicidal ideation – enthusiastic about or formulating plans for suicide – could be frightening and isolating, research shows that it can be treatable through psychotherapy, medication, family and social support and other treatments. Nine out of ten people who attempt to take their very own lives don’t die during this acute crisis phase and don’t attempt suicide in the longer term. Studies show that the majority individuals who attempt suicide once don’t try to end their lives again.

But Lawal tried again. After her first attempt as a baby, she attempted suicide 4 more times, most recently in 2021.

Lawal survived. And today, after several years of intensive treatment, hospitalization, medication and therapy, she considers herself recovered from her suicidal thoughts and self-harm. She is now an outspoken mental health advocate who shares her story with hundreds of individuals on her website. Instagramin addition to with politicians, mental medical examiners and educators as a volunteer and youth advisor for the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

She desires to convey to people in crisis situations the message that she herself so desperately needed in her youth: that there may be hope for improvement.

“I am living proof that recovery is possible,” Lawal said. “Mental illness does not have to be a death sentence.”

Mary Lawal survived five suicide attempts and is now a mental health advocate to share her story and spread a message of hope. Lawal is a student at Prince George's Community College. (Kenneth K. Lam/Staff)
Mary Lawal survived five suicide attempts and is now a mental health advocate to share her story and spread a message of hope. Lawal is a student at Prince George's Community College. (Kenneth K. Lam/Staff)

Lawal remembers fighting her mental health from a young age. She spent her childhood moving between Bowie and Nigeria, where her father grew up and ran a business. She modified schools 4 or five times during her childhood, sometimes in the midst of the varsity 12 months.

Ezekiel Adegbola met Lawal once they were each in highschool in Nigeria. He remembers her as someone who adapted quickly to the “Nigerian way of life” and was very intelligent and funny. They became fast friends, Adegbola said, and remained close even after Mary returned to Maryland.

But inside, Lawal felt like she didn't belong anywhere – like nobody really understood her. At 13, she began self-harming. She knew she needed help, but she didn't know the best way to put her feelings into words. Mental health wasn't a subject her teachers or classmates talked about at college.

“I felt like I was trapped in this vicious cycle of doom,” she said.

When it involves stopping suicides — and most other health crises — taking motion early is crucial, says Holly Wilcox, a professor on the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. That means tackling the early seeds of the issue before it becomes a crisis, and teaching people the best way to recognize those seeds and what to do once they spot them.

Suicide may look like too big and scary a subject to bring up with children, but there are age-appropriate — and effective — ways to achieve this, Wilcox said. She and other researchers are currently testing programs in Maryland schools that give children tools for handling tricky situations and conversations with their friends and teach them when to involve a responsible adult.

“One thing we've noticed is that students, even those in middle school, really appreciate having the space and time to talk about mental health,” said Wilcox, who has spent her profession advancing public health approaches to suicide prevention.

“By allowing them to talk about it, we hope we'll combat the stigma of mental illness,” Wilcox said. “They can learn practical skills and learn about different mental illnesses. That should help them if they or someone else in their life is facing any kind of mental health issue or crisis; they'll have something to fall back on to be able to work toward a solution.”

Since there was no similar program at her school, Lawal turned to YouTube and social media to find out about mental health. Hearing others share similar experiences to her own was helpful, but she still wasn't sure the best way to recuperate. When she lived in Nigeria, she considered going to the closest pharmacy and asking for help.

“I wanted to ask the pharmacist,” she recalls, “'Do you have anything for depression or suicidal thoughts? Something that helps?'”

When she found the courage to inform her parents how much she was suffering, they didn't understand. They were a family of believers – why couldn't she trust that God would maintain her?

Lawal's father, Wasiu Lawal, said he initially attributed his daughter's mental health problems to her youth. But as she got older, things got worse, not higher, he said. Although he knew nothing about therapy – mental health was never a subject people talked about when he was growing up in Nigeria – he eventually knew his daughter needed serious help.

“I was willing to do anything to help her,” Lawal said.

Towards the tip of Lawal's highschool years, her mental health deteriorated even further. At her worst, she would scream and cry at her mother, asking her why she had given birth to her.

But when Lawal was 19, after years of attempting suicide and being hospitalized frequently for her horrific obsessions, a physician suggested a day-care program to her family. For several weeks, Lawal attended several hours of group and individual therapy every day. Just a few months later, she attended this system again. This time, though it was virtual, Lawal felt more prepared to speak in confidence to the opposite program participants – to share her experiences and offer her input during group therapy.

After several years of treatment and learning about mental health, Lawal said it felt like every part had fallen into place. She left this system with a deeper understanding of herself, which grew even deeper as she explored her relationship together with her faith. She got here to consider that every part she had been through had a purpose – to assist her understand others who were struggling and to assist them feel less alone.

“God, he had me then. He has me now,” she said. “In my darkest moments, in my darkest times, when I felt alone, like I had no one, he was still with me and the reason I'm still alive today.”

Rolly Orebote, a preacher and spiritual mentor based in London, remembers meeting Lawal through Instagram about 4 years ago. She noticed how much the young girl was struggling, she said, but lately she has been amazed on the sort of person she has grow to be.

“When I first met Sister Mary, she was a completely different person. Someone who was not understood, someone who had no confidence in herself,” Orebote said. “I can't tell you how impressed and proud I am of her because she has grown so much in such a short time.”

Lawal is now adept at telling her story. In 2023, she approached members of the Maryland General Assembly and asked them to totally fund the 988 hotline. She has also helped start support groups for NAMI and frequently volunteers to talk to journalists about mental health issues. A psychology student at Prince George's Community College, she isn't quite sure if she desires to proceed her studies and grow to be a therapist or stay in advocacy.

Whatever Lawal does, her father said, she is going to help lots of people. She has taught him rather a lot about mental health, he said. Now, when he meets a parent whose child has mental health issues, he knows the best way to refer to them about it – and help them determine the best way to support their child.

“She is incredible. Unbelievable,” he said of his daughter. “She can tell her story anywhere. She is not ashamed. She is brave. I am really proud of her.”

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