Will's Story

Will’s story of holding on to hope through early loss, hidden suicidality, and the pressure to stay silent in a male-dominated industry.

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Suicidality
14 min read
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Will's story

Will grew up in Eltham, a small town northeast of Melbourne. On the outside, his childhood seemed typical. But at just five years old, Will lost his cousin to suicide, an experience that shaped his understanding of grief, masculinity and what it means to cope.

In this episode of Holding on to Hope, Will shares how early trauma, a lack of emotional role models and unspoken expectations around 'being a man' led to years of internal struggle. Over time, suicidal thoughts became a quiet, almost normalised, response to distress.

Now 29 and working as an electrician, Will talks openly about what helped him through some of his darkest moments, including the decision to call Lifeline. He also explores the complex ways relationships, vulnerability, and stigma can show up for men who are trying to do the work of healing.

This is a story about unlearning silence, showing up for yourself, and realising you don’t have to wait until you're in crisis to reach out.


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Note: this transcript has been edited for clarity, grammar, and flow.

Darcy: We acknowledge the lives lost to suicide and recognise those who have survived suicide attempts, as well as those who struggle today or have struggled in the past with thoughts of suicide, mental health issues, and crisis situations. We acknowledge all those who have felt the deep impact of suicide, including those who love, care for, and support people experiencing suicidality, and those experiencing the pain and bereavement through suicide. We respect collaboration with people who have a lived or living experience of suicide and mental health issues, and we value their contribution to the work we do.

Will: I love and care for somebody who's having those thoughts. I know that they love and care for me, the people around you like your friends and your family. They want to help you they're there to listen to you.

Darcy: Welcome to holding on to hope, a series that shares the stories of everyday Australians that have experienced moments in crisis and found a path to support. Whilst all of the stories shared are of hope and inspiration, at times, you may hear something triggering. If you or someone you know needs crisis support, please phone Lifeline on 13 11 14, text 0477 13 11 14, or visit lifeline.org.au for the crisis chat service, which is available 24/7.

Ruben: Welcome to Holding on to Hope. I'm your host, Ruben Mackella.

Today we’re joined by Will, a 29-year-old electrician. Growing up in Eltham, a town northeast of Melbourne, Will had a fairly standard childhood. However, beneath the surface of normalcy lay a profound struggle that began at a young age. At just five years old, Will’s life was touched by tragedy when his cousin died by suicide. This event, coupled with a lack of positive emotional role models, led Will down a path where thoughts of suicide became familiar, almost normalised, responses to emotional distress.

In this conversation, Will shares what it was like to reach out to Lifeline during moments of despair, the challenges of navigating relationships, and the stigma that can surround men’s mental health. Join us as we explore Will’s journey of resilience, self-discovery, and the ongoing pursuit of mental wellbeing in a world where seeking help is a sign of strength.

Will, thank you so much for joining us today. Your awareness of suicide started at a very young age with the loss of your cousin. Can you tell us about that time and how it began to normalise the idea of suicide for you?

Will: My awareness of suicide started when I was five years old. My cousin died by suicide. I don’t really have many specific memories, except for two that stand out. One was my father being particularly upset when we found out the news. The other was at the funeral, seeing my aunties and other relatives visibly unwell, especially because it was an open casket.

Suicide isn’t something that’s typically known to a five-year-old. It’s not something a child can really grasp. But I remember the details being shared with me at the time. Instead of being told simply that someone had passed away, I was told how it happened. I think that’s when it stuck. I got the idea that when life becomes overwhelming, whatever the reason, suicide might be an option. That’s not something that should feel normal in a five-year-old’s world.

I remember almost immediately finding out it was suicide, and that he’d died that way. I think I rationalised it in my own head. I don’t recall a particular conversation where someone explained suicide to me; I just started drawing my own conclusions. I knew he had served in the Australian Defence Force. And I think I just started to make those conclusions myself at age five, that maybe things got a bit too hard. And that's why he did what he did. But I don't recall a particular conversation explaining what suicide meant. I came to those conclusions myself.

Ruben: Can you paint a picture of what was going on in your world when you first became aware of your suicidal thoughts and feelings?

Will: Two things come to mind. I think it’s a bit retrospective. At the time, it was so normalised that the idea of things becoming too challenging, and suicide being an option, didn’t really stand out to me.

Because it had been normalised so early on, it didn’t occur to me in the moment that I was having those thoughts myself. It’s only looking back that I can recognise that suicidality was something I was carrying (and have carried) for most of my life.

The first time I realised that not everyone had these thoughts was when I was 18. I remember feeling overwhelmed or distressed by something and telling my girlfriend at the time that I felt like ending my life. She was obviously really upset to hear that from her boyfriend. And I remember feeling a bit confused, like 'Why is she so shocked?' Because for me, it had just felt normal.

Ruben: What was it like for you, having those thoughts and feelings at the time?

Will: It was kind of my default. If I was feeling down, even about something small, my thoughts would go straight to suicide. I played basketball when I was a kid, and if I didn’t perform well in a game, my first thought was, 'I shouldn’t be here anymore.' Any sadness, stress, or overwhelm with school - that was the default. That I wasn’t good enough. That I didn’t need to be here anymore.

There was this constant feeling of, 'What’s the point?' Looking back now, everything just felt kind of dull. I didn’t feel emotions fully. Everything was muted and those thoughts were always there in the background.

Ruben: Could you share how these feelings of suicidality affected your relationships, work, or other aspects of your everyday routine?

Will: What I’ve alluded to so far is that a lot of my understanding of this comes from hindsight because at the time, it all felt so normal to me. I didn’t realise what the effects were until much later.

Looking back now, I think being so emotionally subdued impacted every aspect of my life. I would give up on things as soon as I felt like I wasn’t good enough or wasn’t performing. That’s when those suicidal thoughts would take over, and I’d kind of shut down. I wasn’t emotionally available in relationships; I was trapped in my own thoughts.

At work, it got to the point where I just didn’t want to go. I’d call in sick because I couldn’t cope with the idea of being there. Even when I was at work, I couldn’t concentrate because the thoughts of suicide were so overwhelming. But again, all of that is clearer in hindsight. Now that I’ve been able to take a bit more control of my mental health and wellbeing, I can see just how much it was affecting me.

Ruben: Did you feel, at the time, that you had good avenues to open up about your suicidal thoughts or suicidality?

Will: No, I don’t think I felt like I had anyone to turn to or anywhere to go. I definitely felt the stigma, especially around being a man and needing to show a tough exterior. Around age 20, I was just starting in the construction industry, and that added another layer of pressure. There’s a lot of bravado, a kind of expectation to be tough.

I think I was trying to live up to that in my own way, putting that pressure on myself. But it made it even harder to open up. Seeing my first girlfriend’s emotional reaction made me realise she obviously cared, but it still didn’t feel like something I could really talk about.

Ruben: At what point did you realise that you needed support for your suicidal thoughts and feelings?

Will: It was around age 21 when things started to feel more overwhelming in terms of my suicidal thoughts. That was the first time I called Lifeline. And I think it was then that I realised something was happening that was beyond my control. Before that, it all just felt normal. It was something that happened in my mind, but I didn’t think it had too much impact on my life.

But by 21, I was moving into the construction industry. I guess the pressures of becoming an adult and entering the professional workforce became a bit too much. I remember leaving my desk to go sit in the bathroom because I couldn’t cope with what was happening in my head. Then there was a moment where I completely broke down.

I was in the kitchen at home, working in a remote town at the time, and I was completely alone. My emotions just completely took over. I felt stunned, like I couldn’t do anything. That’s when I made the call to Lifeline. I felt like they might be the only ones who could understand or even just listen. I didn’t feel like there was anyone else I could turn to.

Ruben: Can you tell us a bit about what led you to call Lifeline both times and what the experience was like?

Will: I was working in Katherine, which is a remote part of the Northern Territory, on a construction project. At the time, I was living in a work-provided share house with one of my colleagues. He’d gone home for the weekend, so I was there alone. I remember washing the dishes and feeling completely hopeless. I started crying uncontrollably and that wasn’t something I did often, so it stood out.

I remember thinking, If my mum could see me right now, if she was a fly on the wall, what would she think of her son feeling like this? That thought really set me off. I couldn’t control my emotions. I called Lifeline, and the conversation really helped to calm things down. That was my first experience.

The second time I called, it was actually prompted by my girlfriend at the time. She encouraged me to reach out, I think because she was also feeling quite overwhelmed by the situation. I remember that call brought a lot of comfort, not just to me, but to her as well. I became more relaxed, and that helped her feel calmer, too. So both times, it was a really positive experience.

Darcy: We hope you're enjoying this episode. Lifeline's new support toolkit makes it easier to care for family, friends and loved ones, and look after yourself along the way. Visit us at toolkit.lifeline.org.au. Now, back to the episode.

Ruben: What would you say was your biggest hurdle or challenge in taking that critical first step towards getting help?

Will: It’s hard to say what the biggest one was, but two things come to mind. One was stigma. Like I mentioned earlier, working in the construction industry, there’s this belief that we’re supposed to be invincible. We feel like we need to be invincible. So I definitely felt the pressure that I shouldn’t reach out, even if I really needed help.

The other hurdle was not feeling like I had anyone to talk to. I didn’t feel like I had that one close friend to lean on, or a family member I could open up to. Those were the two biggest barriers I faced when it came to reaching out.

Ruben: How did you go about finding the support you needed when dealing with suicidality? What resources or methods were most helpful for you?

Will: The first step was seeing a psychologist. And that was prompted by the same girlfriend who encouraged me to call Lifeline. I think she recognised that she couldn’t be the solution. And really, that wasn’t her responsibility either. She said, 'You need to go and see someone.'

So I went to the GP and got a referral to a psychologist. That’s probably been the most impactful support in my mental health journey. Because really, it became an emotional education. That part of my life didn’t start until I was 25 or 26 years old. It was like relearning everything - what happiness means, what sadness looks like, what those emotions feel like.

I started learning to recognise and name my emotions. And by doing that, they became less overwhelming.

Ruben: Did you feel like you could be open with work about what you were going through, or did it still feel like a private journey? What was that like?

Will: At the time, it still felt like a really taboo topic. Honestly, I was embarrassed to be seeing a psychologist. I remember I would purposely book the latest appointment she had, so it would be dark when I arrived.

The main reason for that was that I didn’t want to be seen walking into the clinic. I’d even park my car a few blocks away so no one would see it outside. The construction site I was working on at the time was fairly big, and I was mortified by the idea that someone might find out.

I don’t think I disclosed any of what I was going through at work - not until a few years later, and only to one employer.

Ruben: What specific actions or habits did you develop to help you cope with suicidal thoughts or intense emotions?

Will: I remember the first kind of strategy that my psychologist asked me to implement was setting a timer on my watch for every hour to stop for 30 seconds and take deep breaths. That was the first thing.

I was a bit sceptical at first. I’d never done breathing exercises or meditation of any kind. But it definitely helped. I was in the middle of my workday. At the time, I was running a small crew on a construction site, and I could feel the immediate effects.

That 30-second break and some deep breathing helped manage my stress right then and there. Over time, I started to see the broader benefits, too. In a way, it was like putting out spot fires. Taking care of the little flare-ups before they turned into something bigger. These days, it’s almost like these moments of, I don’t know, 'old man' contemplation that really help with my mental health. I like to reflect on how my days go. I try to think about my behaviour, especially when something triggers me, and I reflect on it afterwards. Why did I behave that way? Why did that affect me so much?

Exercise is a massive thing too. Starting my day with exercise gives me a sense of completion. It's like I’ve already done what I need to do for myself today. And the rest of the day feels like a bonus.

Ruben: Looking back at your journey, what are some valuable insights or lessons you’ve learned about yourself and your mental health?

Will: A big insight I’ve learned is that I’m a bit more fragile than the persona I tried to put on for most of my life - that idea of being invincible, falling into the stigma that men don’t need help, or shouldn’t need help.

I’ve become okay with that now. If I need more rest, I take more rest. If I need more sleep, I take more sleep. Whatever it is, I’ve learned to be more accommodating to what I actually need, instead of what I think I should need. That’s been a big one for me. That emotional awakening, or relearning all of my emotions later in life, it was kind of like an emotional crisis at first. But it became one of the most valuable lessons.

It helped me feel more, because I finally understood what I was feeling. And it helped me manage those feelings, too, for the same reason. Even the more difficult emotions didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. I didn’t lose them or try to block them, I just learned to listen to them. Like if I was feeling fear, I could pause and think, Why am I feeling this? Maybe it is a fearful situation, and I need to step away. That’s probably been the most valuable lesson: really learning the basics of what emotions are and what they actually feel like.

Ruben: How are you doing now? And have you gained a better understanding of your triggers for suicidal thoughts?

Will: I’m fairly realistic about my mental health journey. I know that going to see a psychologist once isn’t going to 'fix' me for the rest of my life. So I’m okay with it being an ongoing process. There are ups and downs, like with anything, but overall, I’m doing much better.

And I say that mostly because now I know what’s going on. I have awareness. Back then, suicidal ideation was so normalised for me that it was just part of the background. I thought about it all the time, but I didn’t realise it was something I could actually do something about. Now I know how it impacts my life, my relationships, my work, everything, and I’m better off for knowing.

There’s a bit of a pattern that my friends have probably picked up on when things aren’t going so well, I tend to ramp up my exercise. It becomes more of a focus, almost like a coping mechanism. And when things are good, maybe I’m eating a bit too much, but that’s okay too. Even smaller strategies have helped. I’ve started making more time for things I consider wholesome, like reading a book instead of scrolling on my phone.

That kind of stuff really grounds me. It helps bring me back in touch with how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. So yeah, definitely a lot better than I used to be.

Ruben: What would be your message of hope for someone listening who is currently struggling?

Will: My message of hope would be this: the people around you really do care about you. I have the perspective of both experiencing intense suicidal ideation and being bereaved by suicide, and something I’ve realised is that the love and care I’ve felt for others going through this is the same love and care they’ve felt for me.

If you’re going through something hard or if you’re struggling, your friends and family want to support you. They want to listen. They really do love and care for you. So let that be your encouragement to seek support. There’s no shame. There’s no need to feel embarrassed. Every time I’ve opened up to someone I trust, I’ve only had positive experiences. Reach out to someone you love or someone you trust, and you will be met with care and support.

Ruben: Thank you so much for joining us on Holding on to Hope. It’s been really powerful hearing your story.

Will: Thanks for that. Cheers.

Darcy: Thanks for listening to Holding on to Hope, the podcast. Lifeline is grateful to all Holding on to Hope participants for choosing to share their personal lived experiences openly and courageously in order to offer hope and inspiration to others. Your act of kindness makes for a better world.

And remember - you don’t have to struggle alone. Visit toolkit.lifeline.org.au today.

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