Sometimes the first step toward saving the world begins in your own backyard.

That’s the hope for Frances Wampler and Blair Williams, two staffers at the Center for Children’s Health led by Cook Children’s, who are part of a team exploring how communities might target youth suicide as a standalone issue.

There are several “ifs” to contend with, but the two women believe it’s worth exploring the steady climb of youth suicide cases in the nation and determine what’s happening on the local and state levels.

“We see it in the headlines, see it on social media—even clinicians are expressing concern over it,” said Williams, who is a community health analyst and member of the community health needs evaluation team at the Center. “So, we’re seeing this as a rising need.”

Wampler and William’s decision to pursue the issue resulted from a culmination of events. In September, Wampler’s nephew, 19, died by suicide, leaving her family reeling from his death. And years earlier, Williams suffered the loss of a close family friend, a 15-year-old who took her own life. Their shared experiences, along with other data—including the Center for Disease Control’s report marking suicide as the nation’s second-leading cause of death among ages 10 to 24 in 2018 and a reported increase of self-harm cases seen at Cook Children’s last year—propelled the two women to pitch the idea of collaborating on exploring whether area communities needed help with this complicated issue.

“I know how hard it was for me and my family to experience the things we did,” said Wampler, program coordinator at the Center who focuses on child abuse. “He was my nephew, but he felt like one of my bonus kids. I felt like I lost one of my children, and I would take that heartache away from any person I could. I don’t want that to be the end of his story. He was not the last decision he made in his life...he was so much more than that.”

“I just want to do something with that—and I don’t know­­—try to save the world,” she said.

While discussing Wampler’s nephew’s death, she and Williams made note of how often youth suicide overlaps with other issues, such as firearm and poison injuries, child abuse and neglect, Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs), mental health and so on.

“These are things that the Center already has programming around,” Wampler said. “I was like, ‘We have to do something.’”

The two decided to take it to Center leadership and were given the green light to pursue it and “do some digging on the data,” Williams said.

“They’ve been really supportive of this,” she said. “That, to me, is really powerful because our leaders heard our concerns and supported us in our efforts to keep every child safe from injury.”

Wampler and Williams’s preliminary research efforts could potentially support the 2021 Community Health Needs Assessment. The Community Health Needs Assessment is conducted by Cook Children’s every three years to assess children’s health needs and the board uses the information to develop implementation strategies for addressing these needs.

They’re not sure how COVID-19 may affect this issue, let alone community health needs across the board, but youth suicide was on the rise well before the virus hit, Williams said. In 2012, the number of suicide deaths surpassed the number of cancer and heart disease deaths - causing suicide to be the 2^nd leading cause of all deaths in Americans ages 1-44 every year since.

“Part of it is recognizing there are several community partners and agencies that are well-equipped to handle this,” Williams said. “Part of the assessment is not only looking at the data, but it’s also looking at what resources are in the community that can be used to help.”

As it stands, the Center is in the data collection phase of the 2021 Community Health Needs Assessment process. They’ll sift through all sorts of data, such as what local health departments are seeing, what the CDC says, what the national and statewide numbers on children’s health needs show, and what’s happening inside and outside Cook Children’s walls. They’re currently conducting focus groups, a parent survey, a community leader survey, and key informant interviews, among other things. When finished, the data will be synthesized and a report published as the 2021 Community Health Needs Assessment.

Wampler and Williams are proud that the question they raised about what the Center can do to support youth suicide prevention has been met with a team approach to investigate this important topic further. They acknowledge this task is a huge undertaking. But both are passionate about getting help to children and families who need it.

Recognizing that this is becoming more of a trend is an important step, Williams said.

“There are so many great resources in our community, so many great partners. We have a wonderful health care system, a great employer who recognizes this issue. So, what can we do with these great assets and protective factors to keep kids safe from all types of harm, including harming themselves?”

Regardless of their findings and the various factors that come into play, Wampler and Williams believe ramping up awareness surrounding self-harm and suicide is key to preventing it among young people. But awareness doesn’t equate applying stereotypes, they said.

Even if children do “check off those boxes” for suicide risk factors, it doesn’t mean they’ll try suicide, Williams said. She encouraged all families to have a mental health plan to address any crisis that may arise.

“There are people who have multiple adversities and risk factors who lead very successful, healthy lives, and probably go on to help many other people, too,” she said. “It’s just recognizing that it needs more awareness. It can happen to anyone and to be prepared. If you’re in crisis, it’s going to be harder to seek out help. So, have that help lined up for you.”

Wampler agreed.

Normalizing conversations about thoughts of suicide, even if it’s uncomfortable for families, she said, also might help with prevention. Her nephew had supportive friends and family, played football in high school and had joined the military, she said, adding the family “had no idea he was feeling that way.” No one saw his suicide coming.

“I don’t think it’s talked about enough,” she said. “I don’t know how hard that would be to say, ‘I want to hurt myself.’ But you don’t have to suffer in silence. You can tell somebody that you’re struggling and get help.”

There may not be a simple answer to preventing youth self-harm and suicide, Wampler and Williams said. What leads to it and how to prevent it is often muddied by a multitude of factors, some controllable and others not.

But one aspect of it is clear to both women.

“For me,” Williams said, “if we can save one child, well, that is (saving) the world.”

“Yes. That’s right,” Wampler quickly agreed. “That one child is somebody’s whole world.”

Like an earthquake rumbling underfoot, crumpling the ground beneath, the suicide of a loved one has a way of knocking you to your hands and knees.

After the initial shock wave throws you, constant aftershocks of emotions—running the gamut from guilt to shame to horror to inconsolable sadness—may leave you struggling to regain footing long after your loved one has died.

Survivors of suicide often experience a complicated type of grief that differs from other types of bereavement, mental health experts say.

“With suicide grief, they’re dealing with a trauma on top of the loss,” says Sharon Walker, LCSW, a therapist in Arlington who specializes in complex trauma and trauma grief. “With most people who die by suicide, it’s usually violent or tragic in some way. So, the person grieving has to deal with the fact that a person chose to take their life and that how they died. That changes the grief process.”

Walker, a former longtime-facilitator of the support group Survivors of Suicide (SOS) in Fort Worth, says another dynamic comes into play—the social stigma attached to suicide.

“Death can be tragic, like a murder or a car vehicle accident. But the stigma around suicide still exists today, and so family members have to contend with that piece, as well,” she says. “It makes their grief different.”

In April 2020, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) ranked suicide as the 10^th leading cause of death based on its most recent data collected in 2018. It was listed as the second-leading cause of death for Americans ages 10-34 and the fourth-leading cause for ages 35-54, according to CDC reports.

It has long been accepted that when someone dies by suicide, six people are directly affected by it. But a researched-based estimate published on the American Association of Suicidology’s website suggests the ripple effect of one suicide extends far past that, personally affecting 135 people on average. Based on that, an estimated 6.9 million people are touched by suicide annually.

The Alliance of Hope for Suicide Loss Survivors, an international non-profit group that operates an online support group, lists the dynamics that can complicate suicide bereavement on its website. The factors include circumstances surrounding the loss; post-traumatic stress; stigma and isolation; prejudices involving suicide; investigations into the deaths; religious and spiritual beliefs on suicide; family and relationship tensions; and survivors’ questions about why their loved ones chose to take their own lives and whether they could have done something differently to prevent it.

Through her years working with suicide survivors, Walker has seen families experience all of these dynamics. And some, even more than a decade later, still wrestle with them.

“Grief is not something we ever get over, and it doesn’t ever stop. What we learn to do is grow around our grief, to encompass it and incorporate it or manage it into our own life,” she says. “We walk with it.”

When talking with families and friends facing a loss from suicide, she reminds them that they can get hijacked by their grief. And that everyone has their own process of grieving the loss.

“Every time you turn around—there’s a reminder, there’s a statement, there’s a feeling, there’s an emotion—and you are overwhelmed by your grief,” she says. “And as we walk with this, and you learn to understand your own grief process, it becomes something that you can manage.”

“It’s not that the grief gets smaller, but you grow big enough around it to start being able to manage it,” she says. “And then you can take it off the shelf and touch it when you want. It becomes something that you can eventually manage and live with and incorporate in your life. But as far as ever getting over it, there is no such thing.”

Many suicide survivors circle back to help other survivors find their way out of the devastation caused by a loved one’s suicide. They take the energy from their own grief and put it toward helping others, Walker says. The success behind the SOS group she ran for 18 years was because survivors returned to give back “because they knew how devastating it was to other people.”

“And the very act of sitting there and saying, ‘You can survive this. We didn’t think we were able to either, but we’re here to help you know that you can.’ Well, as a professional, I cannot convey that any more brilliantly than what a survivor can to another survivor,” she says.

Just Breathe

Brad Hunstable, CEO of electric motor company Linear Labs in Fort Worth and an Army veteran, understands firsthand the complexities that grieving families face after losing a child to suicide.

Nothing prepared him for April 17, 2020, the day a figurative “nuclear bomb” went off in his world, altering it forever. Hunstable had just finished a call when his daughter, then 8, ran to him, telling him something was wrong with her big brother Hayden. The 12-year-old had been playing his favorite video game Fortnite in his bedroom while his dad worked from their Aledo home.

Hunstable rushed upstairs to his son’s bedroom and found Hayden in the closet, unresponsive. He called 911 and tried unsuccessfully to revive him. Hayden—described as a fun-loving, active boy who enjoyed playing sports and loved life––died by suicide four days shy of his 13^th birthday.

Hayden didn’t suffer from depression or have any diagnosed mental health issues. No one could have predicted he would take his own life, his dad says.

Hunstable believes isolation during the initial COVID-19 stay-at-home mandate—attending school online and not getting to see friends regularly—took a toll on his son and factored into his impulsive decision to end his own life. It was also later discovered that Hayden had accidentally broken a large-screen gaming monitor just before his death—a monitor he used to play Fortnite and similar to one he’d broken months earlier but had worked to replace.

He was excited about his new replacement monitor and was set to have friends over to play Fortnite at his upcoming birthday party, says his dad, who founded Hayden’s Corner, which advocates mandated resilience classes for children and champions responsible gaming education, in honor of his son.

Hunstable—who also produced a short documentary about Hayden’s death titled “Almost Thirteen”—has spoken to various mental health experts about youth suicide and believes impulsivity plays a huge role. (Parental guidance and discretion is advised when watching Hunstable’s documentary because the disturbing subject matter may cause emotional distress.)

“When you look at youth suicide, 55% of them are impulsive and 50% don’t have a previous mental health diagnosis,” he says. “They may have something, but it’s not diagnosed. Impulsive suicide in youth happens because a boyfriend broke up with me…I got into a fight with my parents…a girlfriend just broke up with me…I’m being bullied.

 “In Hayden’s case, he broke his monitor for a second time right before his birthday, in the middle of a pandemic,” Hunstable says.

Developing resiliency is key in addressing suicide among children and teens, he says.

 “It’s always complicated. It’s never simple,” he says of life and what sometimes leads young people to impulsively choose suicide. “When you get the perfect storm of complexity, and they haven’t developed some resilience capabilities—and you haven’t taught them or had open dialogue about these things or it’s just too much—this is where you end up.”

Hunstable believes parents need to have “uncomfortable conversations” with their children about suicide so they know how to cope if the impulse ever hits them. Research shows that bringing up the topic of suicide in an age-appropriate manner does not plant the idea in children’s minds, he says, adding “that’s a myth.”

Find a way to help them contend with their emotions and impulses, like teaching them breathing techniques, meditation, playing guitar or screaming into a pillow, he says. Let them know it’s okay to talk about it, Hunstable adds, and if it happens when you’re not around, teach them to go to a trusted adult like a teacher or a grandparent.

What would he say to parents who are hesitant to discuss suicide with their children and methods to cope with their feelings?

“I’d say, ‘Do you want to be in my shoes?’ My son disappeared off the face of the Earth. I still struggle with that concept. He was there one minute—and then he went poof. You don’t want to do this,” he says. “It has nearly broken me. It nearly broke my family. It still might.”

“Hayden doesn’t have PTSD—we have PTSD,” Hunstable says of himself and his daughter, who found her brother. “I know it sounds like a cliché because I used to think the same thing. I’d hear parents say, ‘It can happen to your kid.’ Now, I’m that parent, saying that it can happen to your kid. And what’s scary is—it really could.”

Open up

Jamye Coffman, M.D., medical director of The Center for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect at Cook Children’s, knows firsthand it can happen to anyone. She lost her son Aaron, 20, to suicide on Aug. 10, 2010.

“I’ve been very open about his death, open about his suicide. And what I’ve found is that a lot of people came to me with similar stories, maybe it wasn’t their child, but with suicide in their family,” she says. “I was amazed at how many people have been touched by suicide. I think they just don’t talk about it because they don’t know how people will receive it.

“I want to talk about it because I want people to know it can affect anybody,” she says. “The rain falls on everybody, right? It doesn’t matter how good, how bad, how rich, how poor––none of that matters.”

Dr. Coffman still recalls getting the call while on vacation as she, her husband and daughter were about to enter Yellowstone National Park. The news sent her and the rest of the family reeling.

Less than a week before his death, she’d been on the phone with him. He was living and working in Lubbock, where his dad, her ex-husband, lived. He wanted to go to community college, so the two had discussed plans.

She didn’t know until after his death that his girlfriend had dumped him just before the suicide. He’d been drinking heavily that night and called a friend, who urged him to call his mom. But he never made that call.

“Obviously, he wasn’t thinking straight,” she says. “He was angry, upset, drunk, sad––all those things. But at the time, nobody really expected this to happen.”

Dr. Coffman wears a necklace with the letter “A” in memory of Aaron, who “gave the best hugs ever.” She describes him as “a super loveable guy,” who was a daredevil and enjoyed skateboarding. He was accepting of others and a good friend. He also was a great big brother to his half-sister, who was seven years his junior, she says.

“He was just a sweetheart. He would call me at times just to chat, which most boys don’t do,” she says, adding the step-family issues caused tension at times, as did Aaron’s troubles with alcohol and marijuana. “Sometimes things were strained, but we still managed to maintain a relationship through all that. We knew we loved each other.”

After Aaron died, Dr. Coffman says the pain was terrible, especially that first year. She wasn’t sure she could endure it and often found herself in her closet, her designated “crying spot.” She spent a lot of time in that closet, she says.

 “When it happens, initially, you don’t think you’re going to survive it,” Dr. Coffman says. “There’s no way around it…you have to work your way through it and own it. But even though you do, it still never goes away.

“It does get better,” she adds. “The really bad moments hit you less and less as the years go by. There are less triggers. I think it was the five-year mark when I figured out, ‘I can survive.’”

She also keeps a piece of paper tacked to a corkboard on her office wall. She doesn’t know who wrote it or even where she found it, but it has made a difference to her as a suicide survivor.

The typed words on the paper are simply put:

I don’t like it.

I don’t have to like it.

What I do have to do is make a choice about my living.

What I do have to do is accept it and go on living.

The choice is mine.

Dr. Coffman has read those words daily for more than 10 years as a reminder that the choice is hers.

Tackling the magnitude of this type of grief is different for everyone, she says. Some people do well with therapy, while others may not. Some may do better with families and friends who are present and just sit and listen. Try different things until you find what works for you, she says.

Something she learned early on at a grief support clinic and has found to be true is that there are three camps of people: Those who are hurtful. Those who are neither hurtful nor helpful. And those who are helpful.

“Go to the helpful, avoid the others,” she says for those grieving the loss of a loved one’s suicide. “There were some people that I had to just not communicate with because things they said were hurtful––things they didn’t mean to be hurtful. But, you know, things like, ‘God has a reason for everything.’ Well, when you have somebody die, there isn’t a good reason. That’s not helpful.”

What was helpful for Dr. Coffman was a supportive family and friends. Those who didn’t try to fix anything but would listen when she needed to talk and let her cry when she needed to cry. It made the difference because “it was somebody who really understood me, understood Aaron,” she says.

The family also continues to talk about Aaron, which was important, she says. They still laugh together about the “silly things he did.”

“Whether it’s the cousins or my parents or his brother or sisters…we still have memories and talk about them,” Dr. Coffman says. “I think that’s important––to keep that person alive in your heart. And I think it’s one of the hardest things for people who’ve not experienced something like this. They don’t want to say their name or talk about it because they’re afraid it’ll bring up something bad for you. Well, the bad is always there. But knowing people still remember him and can talk about him and remember the fun things about him, that’s important.”

Like many parents who lose children to suicide, Dr. Coffman also struggled with self-blame and guilt after her son’s death and battled her share of “what-ifs.” She needed reaffirmation that she was a good parent and a good person. That affirmation came from a woman who worked as a secretary at Cook Children’s Emergency Room at the time of Aaron’s death. The woman, who lost her brother to suicide, sent Dr. Coffman a letter, which she says she carried in her purse for many years.

In the letter, one of the things the woman wrote was, “We do the best we can with what we know at the time.” It’s a message that applies to most everything, she says, but as a grieving parent who lost her son to suicide, it was really helpful.

“I had to remind myself of that over and over because any mistakes I made as a parent weren’t intentional. They were done because I thought it was the right thing to do,” she says. “So, hearing that from her, in what she had gone through with her brother…when I would get into the depths of guilt, I would have to preach that to myself, and I would pull out the letter and reread it.”

The death of Aaron has had a lasting effect on Dr. Coffman and her family. It changed every part of her, and it was for the better, she says.

“I don’t think I could ever be the same person,” she says. “I always tell people it has changed me down to the molecular level. It affects every part of you. It can get changed for the worse…you can become bitter. Or you can choose to change in the sense of ‘let me learn from this, let me see what ways I need to change to be a better person.’”

After his death, she did a 180-degree turn on her parenting style “because it changes your ideas of what’s important and what’s not important,” she says. She became more accepting of others, something her son excelled at. And though she thought she was already a kind person, his death helped her become even more so, Dr. Coffman says.

She wants her son to be remembered and encourages others to talk to suicide survivors about their loved ones. It’s one of the most important parts in their healing process.

“It may help them to know that someone else is thinking about their child and has fond memories. And that that person, like Aaron, affected their life in a good way,” Dr. Coffman explains. “Especially when they die young and haven’t had the opportunity to really do a lot. But, even in a short life, they made a difference and still make a difference. Because (Aaron’s life and death) changed me. It changed my husband. It changed my daughter. It changed us to be better people.”

You matter

North Richland Hills resident Ellen Harris understands that sentiment. She lost her 22-year-old daughter Jordan to suicide on March 27, 2012.

Not long after, she and her husband Tom started The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation to ensure their daughter would be remembered. The Fort Worth-based non-profit group focuses on suicide prevention training and awareness, as well as funding research efforts in depression.

“There’s no question that the foundation was and continues to be therapeutic for us because it’s our way to honor her life,” Harris says. “And to bring awareness to a subject that people weren’t willing to talk about.”

Jordan was a former valedictorian and National Merit Scholar in high school and named a Stamps Scholar at the University of Michigan, where she was about to graduate with a degree in organizational studies, a field that focuses on social justice. She had been diagnosed with depression the last six months of her life, which came as a surprise to the Harris family.

None of them would have described her as depressed. Instead, Harris used adjectives like “loving and joyful,” “funny,” “smart” and “full-of-life” to describe her eldest child of three, who loved to travel and help others.

“She didn’t want to worry us, so she never let on. I can remember my brother-in-law over Thanksgiving making the comment that she was the happiest depressed person he had ever known,” Harris says. “So, deep inside, she was struggling, and none of us knew the extent.”

Jordan had done well in college but wasn’t sure what she would do after graduation. She had high-performing roommates and friends who “all seemed to know what they wanted to do. And she didn’t, which weighed on her heavily,” her mom says. “I think she believed she was a failure.”

She had told her mom she was a disappointment to the family and hadn’t done much right in life. Which couldn’t have been farther from the truth, says Harris, adding she has no doubt her daughter was dealing with mental illness at the time of her suicide.

 “She became severely depressed, only I didn’t know what that meant,” she says. “I didn’t know what depression looked like.”

Looking back, she also believes Jordan had “hit a bump in the road” but didn’t have the resilience to overcome it, Harris says. Her daughter had excelled academically, had lots of friends and was pretty. Even though she worked hard for her grades, she hadn’t had to struggle for most of her young life, Harris says.

“I think resilience is a huge part of protection when it comes to suicide,” she says. “That’s part of my theory. I think she just didn’t have a good personal resource for bouncing back when she dealt with adversity.”

“It’s really important that children do (face adversity), even if it’s breaking up with a boyfriend or having acne or something that causes you to struggle a little bit,” Harris says. “I think you need to let your kids fail and figure out how to succeed again without you fixing it.”

Jordan’s death left an “enormous hole” in her heart, Harris says, and she faced a difficult time, especially in the early days. She still can’t watch a video of her daughter, and “I don’t know how long it took me before I could even look at a picture of her without feeling crushed,” she says.

For suicide survivors, it’s important to get a support system in place to help them because the suicide rate for people who have lost someone to it is higher compared to the general public, Harris says. While trying to cope with Jordan’s death, she and her husband tried therapy and various grief support groups but acknowledged that neither of them is much of “a sharer.” Reading books about people who had experienced what she had seemed to help her, she says.

And she immediately put her son and daughter, who were both attending the University of Texas at Austin at the time, into therapy to help them deal with Jordan’s suicide. Both were extremely close to her and devastated by her death. That seemed to help them cope with the loss of their big sister, Harris says.

“Whether it’s going to your church or wherever you find comfort, I think it’s important” to get support, she says.

 It took more than a year for Harris to feel comfortable in large social groups.

“I hated the look in people’s eyes, you know, how sorry they were but how glad they were that it wasn’t them. I mean, let’s face it, that goes through people’s heads,” she says.

Harris also saw firsthand the social stigma attached to suicide. One of the foundation’s missions is to address that issue. From the beginning, she and her husband didn’t try to hide that Jordan had taken her own life. So many people with similar stories approached her, but they had never let on about what really happened with their loved ones, Harris says.

“I think death and serious illness, in general, kind of bring out interesting traits in people,” Harris says. “There were people who didn’t come around and didn’t call because they were obviously uncomfortable with what had happened and with the subject of death, perhaps, and especially the death of a child.”

“But there were other people, who were not necessarily our best friends, who just really stepped up and supported us,” she says. “Some people don’t know how to talk about things like that, and death especially is a really difficult subject. But death by suicide––there’s still such a huge stigma attached to it.”

The foundation’s goal is to have conversations with the public to eliminate that stigma and create an understanding of what’s actually behind the act of suicide. For instance, a common misconception is that those who die by suicide are just selfish, Harris says.

But, in their minds, they’re doing the opposite of selfish, she says. Many of those who kill themselves think they’ll be a burden to their loved ones for the rest of their lives and everyone would be better off without them. With the love she had for her family, Harris says, Jordan wouldn’t have taken her own life if she had been thinking clearly or really understood what her family and friends would face for the rest of their lives.

“It’s not a selfish act on their part,” she says. “This is reaching a depth of hopelessness so deep that they can’t even see anything except how they get out of this pain.”

“They don’t want to die,” she adds. “They just don’t see any other way out.”

Statistics, no matter how alarming, sometimes blur into faceless numbers when parents hear them on TV or read them in a news story.

That’s until it’s your child in the emergency room, hooked to an IV while receiving treatment for ingesting too many pills—in this case, over-the-counter pain meds often used to relieve menstrual cramps—with the intent of harming herself.

And then suddenly, those numbers have a face. For Betty, a Tarrant County mom who asked not to be identified to protect her 14-year-old from any stigma attached to her attempted suicide, the face that came fully into focus was her own teenage daughter’s.

Betty’s daughter is among the many children and young adults across the country who’ve used excessive doses of common drugs, like pain relievers or allergy medications, with the intent of harming themselves. National studies have shown OTC meds as the No. 1 means used by youths in suicide attempts and the third-leading cause of youth suicide deaths.

“I really didn’t put those in the category of prescription medications, so I never put them away,” Betty said of the handful of OTC meds—a combination of Motrin and Midol—her daughter swallowed earlier this year. (Motrin contains ibuprofen, and Midol is a mixture of acetaminophen, caffeine and pyrilamine maleate, an antihistamine.) “I want other people to know, and to even have lockboxes for their medications, so that someone else doesn’t have to go through what we went through.”

Her daughter, who went to school but said it wasn’t the same because of COVID restrictions, had felt isolated and been sad because she missed her friends, she said. She faced the typical teenage stuff like low self-esteem, Betty said, but she had no idea her daughter was considering suicide.

“She’s seeking treatment now, but I want to be really clear, ‘Put all your medications away, not just your prescription medications,’” she said.

Betty is far from alone in facing this issue. Other parents across the nation also are grappling with children and teens who are intentionally overdosing with easily accessible OTC meds.

In a study published by The Journal of Pediatrics in May 2019, Nationwide Children’s Hospital and the Central Ohio Poison Center found that suspected suicide attempts by self-poisoning in children and young adults had doubled in the past decade. The research, which targeted ages 10 to 24 during 2000 to 2018, also showed suicide attempts using OTC meds had tripled among girls and young women.

The same researchers later expounded on the initial report, pointing out that the two most commonly used substances among all age groups were OTC pain relievers—such as acetaminophen, ibuprofen and aspirin—followed by antidepressants.

Last year, a study conducted by the Center for Injury Research and Policy and the Central Ohio Poison Center at Nationwide Children’s Hospital focused specifically on the use of OTC pain relievers in suicide attempts, showing a 57-percent hike in overall cases from 2000 to 2018. Children and young adults between 6 to 19-year-old made up half of the cases, and of those, 73 percent were female, the study showed.

Researchers analyzed 549,807 suicide-related calls made to poison control centers across the United States that involved OTC medications. The study, published in Pharmacoepidemiology and Drug Safety journal, also determined a 34-percent rise in the frequency of those cases during that time period, caused primarily by a jump among calls involving 6- to 19-year-old females, researchers said.

The results from the study showed the breakdown of OTC substances involved in the calls: 48 percent, acetaminophen alone; 33 percent, ibuprofen; and 19 percent, aspirin. Acetaminophen and aspirin accounted for 65 percent and 33 percent of deaths, respectively. Aspirin created the most serious medical outcomes for 36 percent of the cases and 68 percent of the cases with aspirin were admitted into a health care facility compared with other OTC pain relievers. Overall, while suicide-related cases using acetaminophen and ibuprofen climbed, the number involving aspirin decreased, researchers found.

Although local numbers on these types of cases are not yet readily available, physicians at Cook Children’s Medical Center are noticing a similar increase in intentional OTC medication overdoses.

Stacey Vanvliet, M.D., an inpatient pediatric hospitalist at Cook Children’s, said suicide attempts “have become part of my daily practice” and most are overdoses on a substance that’s “convenient for the children and teens to grab.” While it’s mostly older ones, children as young as 8 or 9 come in for attempting suicide, she said.

“Commonly, we see Tylenol, Motrin, aspirin, Benadryl—things that people just stock in their cabinets to have on hand,” she said. “We see teenagers take huge handfuls of them.”

Many people have a misconception of how dangerous these drugs can be when ingested over the recommended dosage, Dr. Vanvliet said. For example, high levels of acetaminophen (as in Tylenol) can cause liver damage or acute liver failure as well as other serious health issues.

“I think another misperception is that there’s a certain type of patient or type of teen that might try to overdose. Or that there’s a certain stressor or pattern, so to speak, that this happens and then the teen goes for pills or whatever it may be,” she said. “But in my experience, that’s not the case. We certainly have children who have undergone significant trauma and have mental health issues…but we also have children who haven’t shown a whole lot of warning signs and are very high achievers.”

When a child or teen attempts suicide, it’s usually an impulsive decision, Dr. Vanvliet said, which makes the accessibility to OTC meds more dangerous.

“You’d be amazed at some of the things that trigger them to make a serious attempt. It can be something as small as, ‘My mom took my phone away because I got a bad grade,’ or ‘My best friend is mad at me,’” she said. “It’s not necessarily anything that’s huge…but they make these snap decisions, and they go take a handful of pills, and it could be really damaging. It happens over and over, unfortunately.”

So, what can be done to keep children safe? Many health experts and researchers propose restricting the amount of OTC meds that can be purchased at one time and suggest unit-dose packaging, such as blister packs, as well as promoting safe storage for OTC and other medications.

Responding to that call, The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation, a Fort Worth-based nonprofit group that targets suicide prevention, plans to launch Keep All Meds Secure (KAMS) public awareness initiative this summer. Christina Judge, the foundation’s executive director, said the initiative includes educating families and caregivers on the dangers of various medications, providing lockboxes for safe storage and advocating safe disposal of old medications. The foundation also offers free suicide prevention training to help parents to know what to look and listen for with a child who might be considering suicide.

The initiative began with a phone call that Judge received. A frantic mother, whose daughter had taken a handful of Tylenol and a handful of Advil, called the foundation seeking help in finding a bed at a mental health facility for her daughter.

“The pivotal moment was just hearing the anguish in the mother’s voice,” Judge said. “I asked her, ‘Did you know that these drugs in the hands of a suicidal child could be lethal?’ She said, ‘No. We just keep them in the cabinet above the sink.’”

“Well, that was enough for me,” Judge said, who researched the topic, presented a case for it and sought funding for the initiative.

Vanvliet believes programs such as KAMS will help with suicide prevention among children and teens.

“Education for parents and keeping those substances safe, I think, is a big part of preventing this from happening,” she said.

For Betty, what happened to her daughter has made her even more vigilant. She has always paid close attention to safety in her house. The family’s guns are always locked away in a safe, along with prescription medication. Now, she secures her OTC meds, too, she said.

She’s thankful her daughter, who’s getting ongoing treatment, didn’t suffer any long-term health effects from the incident. But Betty is highly aware that it all could have ended much differently that day her daughter tried to overdose.

“I think she got scared and came to me and told me. I’m so glad she did,” Betty said. “And I have to say if there were more pills in the bottles, we would have had a much different situation…it could have been much more harmful.”

“Like I said, we’d locked up everything else except for that. And if we had locked that up, maybe we would have avoided this,” she said.

One year into COVID-19, it’s clear the pandemic is taking a toll on the mental wellbeing of children and teens.

In March, a record 43 patients were admitted to Cook Children’s Medical Center after attempting suicide. This staggering figure is nearly double the number of suicidal patients seen during the same time period of 2020. Even worse, kids are dying. Last year, Cook Children’s recorded seven suicide deaths, marking the first time suicide was the leading cause of trauma deaths at the hospital, surpassing child abuse and car wrecks.

“The mental health crisis was already happening, then it met a global pandemic and these are the consequences,” said Kristen Pyrc, M.D., co-medical director of Psychiatry at Cook Children’s.

“They’re less engaged and have less interaction with others, and instead are spending more time online and in virtual settings. And it’s hard for them to be hopeful about anything because so many things, like prom and graduation parties, are canceled.”

The issue is not unique to North Texas. Doctors and nurses from across the nation are reporting similar statistics. In February, NPR released an article titled “Child Psychiatrists Warn That The Pandemic May Be Driving Up Kids' Suicide Risk.” It found that children’s hospitals across the U.S. are seeing up a 250% increase in suicidal patients in emergency rooms since the pandemic began. While there are no nationwide numbers on child suicides in 2020 available yet, experts agree there is reason to be concerned.

The Impact

More children are suffering from stress, anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts than at any time in recent memory. Pediatricians like Kathleen Powderly, M.D. from Cook Children’s Pediatrics Magnolia say children as young as 7 are needing help.

“I’ve had a couple of elementary school students, which you don’t see very often, who are actively suicidal or have already had a suicide attempt. I’ve also managed more kids on antidepressants since the pandemic because it’s hard to get into doctors right now,” Dr. Powderly said. “COVID-19 is not as impactful in terms of volume of cases in pediatrics, but our volume of psychiatric patients has increased quite a bit.”

Previously, Dr. Powderly was the medical director of Cook Children’s Hospitalist Group, the attending physicians who care for children in the hospital. She says her team was seeing an increase in suicidal patients before she transitioned into the office setting five years ago and that the pandemic created a perfect storm. On top of the stressors kids were already dealing with, they’re now struggling with isolation, virtual school, and a loss of activities.

“We’re not going to be able to flip the switch and just go back to normal when this is over,” said Dr. Powderly. “This is going to take some time to come out of. I’ve even had patients tell me they’re struggling with being around people.”

Members of Cook Children’s Youth Advisory Council shared similar experiences in a recent meeting. The teens said they feel more anxious being around their friends in person because they’re so used to only seeing people online now. In addition to new stressors, there is a severe lack of mental health resources across the board.

A Growing Need

“There weren’t enough psychiatric beds to begin with, and then COVID happened and the capacity was reduced because you can’t have patients sharing rooms,” said Dr. Pyrc.

The need for more inpatient psychiatric beds for children and teens has been known for years. In 2017, Cook Children’s opened the Rees-Jones Behavioral Health Center to help address the issue. The unit has 15 inpatient beds available for children between the ages of 2 and 12. As we reported when the center opened, the kids who end up here are patients with complex trauma, medical and social needs. They are often suicidal or have tried to hurt someone else. Eight out of 10 have had something traumatic happen to them. They have either been abused physically or sexually, or they have experienced some sort of neglect.

Teenagers who need inpatient psychiatric care have to be treated elsewhere but often end up waiting on the medical floor of Cook Children’s until a bed opens up in the community, which can take days. With more kids needing these services, it’s not uncommon for Cook Children’s to have a dozen or more patients waiting in a regular hospital room for a transfer to a psychiatric facility that can care for them.

“There are just not enough resources in general,” said Dr. Pyrc. “It’s an awful place to be in. This is a national problem, but it affects us here locally. We need more funding and we need more mental health professionals to care for these patients.”

On the outpatient side, finding a licensed therapist to see a child can take months. The waitlist just to see a counselor at Cook Children’s can be as high as 250 days at any given time. Even with easier access to appointments with virtual visits, there are not enough mental health professionals to meet the need.

Kia Carter, M.D., co-medical director of Psychiatry at Cook Children’s, has been a vocal advocate for increased mental health funding. Testifying in front of the Texas Senate’s Committee on Health and Human Services recently, she said early identification, intervention and treatment is essential to preventing further complications from mental illness. But there are roadblocks.

“We get insurances denying a specific level of care saying that a child doesn’t need an inpatient level of care. We also get a lot of pushback about medication,” Dr. Carter said.

She also asked lawmakers for increased support and to consider giving mental health care providers more leverage with insurance companies.

Hoping for JOY

In the meantime, Cook Children’s aims to bring awareness to the mental health crisis affecting children and teens with the launch of a new suicide prevention campaign.

The Joy Campaign is an acronym that stands for:

Just breathe.

Open up.

You matter.

“If we can just get kids to slow down, realize that what they are experiencing is temporary and that they have a long life ahead of them, I think we can make an impact,” said Dr. Powderly.

For the next month, Cook Children’s will be releasing a series of articles on Checkup Newsroom weekly that address many of the issues at play, such as the pandemic, the role of over-the-counter medications, social media, as well as how minorities and LGBTQ+ young people are impacted. We’ll also be speaking with families who have lost a child to suicide to examine the effects on parents and siblings.

If you feel your child might be struggling, here are some of the warning signs to watch for:

• Anger
• Declining grades
• Lack of concern about appearance and hygiene
• Changes in eating and/or sleep
• Self-injury such as cutting
• Less motivation
• Alcohol/drug use
• Acting highly anxious or agitated
• Recklessness
• Giving away possessions 

If you’re concerned about your child’s mental health, seek help early. Schedule an appointment with a licensed counselor. If your child is actively suicidal, call 911 or take them to the nearest emergency room.

Read this story in Spanish here.

This is why the WATCH coalition and two of its partners, Connections Wellness Group and the Denton County Behavioral Health Leadership Team, are working together to spread messaging from the Okay to Say™ campaign.

Okay to Say is an award-winning public awareness campaign, initiated by the Meadows Mental Health Policy Institute and supported by The Hackett Center for Mental Health. Their message is simple: it’s okay to talk openly about mental health. Hope begins with open and honest conversations about mental health between trusted family members, friends, and other loved ones. WATCH, Connections Wellness Group, and the Denton County BHLT invite you to join us in working together to spread these messages throughout Denton County and the North Texas region so every child understands that it is Okay to Say.

Speak up by asking friends and family how they are feeling. Or, share how you are feeling.

Share hope by becoming a mental health supporter of someone close to you who might be struggling. There are great supporter tips on the Okay to Say website such as: Ask & Listen, Focus on Strengths, and Don’t Try to Fix.

Add your voice by sharing your journey at www.okaytosay.org or on social media using the hashtag #okaytosay.

WATCH, Connections Wellness Group, and the Behavioral Health Leadership Team have raised awareness of the Okay to Say campaign by purchasing a billboard in Denton on I-35W (Post Oak exit), sharing messages on social media, and passing out bookmarks with Okay to Say messaging at Denton County libraries. We’ve also purchased a billboard in Denton on I-35W Northbound (Post Oak exit), resulting in approximately 483,610 folks, age 18 and older, seeing this important message every week for 6 months!

Read the full story here.

Distracted driving is becoming increasingly common and dangerous, causing traffic crashes and fatalities. In 2015, 463 people were killed in distracted driving crashes in Texas and 3,000 more were seriously hurt.

This month, the Texas Department of Transportation begins it's annual "Talk. Text. Crash." distracted driving campaign. According to TxDot:

"In 2015, 38 percent of Texas drivers admitted to talking on their mobile phone while driving at least some of the time, according to a survey conducted by the Texas A&M Transportation Institute, and more than one-fifth (21.2 percent) of drivers said they read or send text messages or emails when behind the wheel."

Teens may even be aware of the danger, but in the teenage mind, the need to stay in touch often outweighs the need to stay safe. ‘Kids who are learning to drive right now have grown up with cell phones, so it seems natural to stay connected to their friends all the time,” said Sam McCage, Ph.D., LMFT, LPC, manager of Behavioral Health Services at Cook Children’s. “When teenagers do not respond immediately to texts, they might feel that they’re being very rude or will miss out on something important.”

The most dangerous time of the year for teens to drive, is the first year after they receive their driver license. Drivers between the ages of 16 and 17 have a higher crash rate than those drivers between the ages of 18 and 19. Sixteen –year-old drivers are less experienced and haven’t developed the skills necessary to handle distractions, road hazards and poor traffic situations.

Parents can help their teen drivers by riding in the car with them, even after they obtain their license. The only way teens learn to drive is by driving, and they will get better at driving when coached by an experienced older driver. Please don’t assume that just because your teen has passed their driving test, that they know everything about driving.