Why I Choose to Work with Those Struggling with Suicidal Thoughts

When people ask why I’ve chosen to work with individuals struggling with suicidal thoughts or those who’ve attempted suicide, I often sense they’re expecting a simple answer to a profoundly complex question. Spoiler alert: there isn’t one. It’s not an easy topic, and my path to this work hasn’t been clear-cut or straightforward by any means. It’s been shaped by personal experiences, professional choices, and an unshakeable belief that every life has immeasurable worth—even when it feels like it’s lost in the dark.

 

Leaning Into the Uncomfortable

 

Let’s face it, suicidality is about as comfortable as wearing a wool sweater in July. It makes people fidget and shift uncomfortably, and many would rather discuss anything else. But here’s the thing: when faced with something uncomfortable, I lean into curiosity. I dive in, and what emerges from that discomfort is a light—a source of knowledge that helps me navigate even the toughest subjects.

 

My journey began in childhood when I watched Mrs. Doubtfire and saw someone choking. Naturally, I wondered, “What if that were me? What if someone starts choking right in front of me?” This innocent curiosity led me to learn CPR and eventually become a lifeguard. It’s a bit like how some people learn to bake bread to distract themselves from existential dread. For me, it was about being prepared—never wanting to be caught off guard.

 

I also found humor and interest in therapy when I watched What About Bob? and pondered the concept of death therapy—pretending to have a diagnosis to avoid the real one. It’s hard not to hear little Sigmund echoing in the back of your mind: “What’s the point? We’re all going to die. You’re going to die. I’m going to die. What is there to live for?” My curiosity led me to wonder what therapists know and how they solve such heavy problems. How can I be a good friend without knowing these skills that improve and even save lives?

 

It’s a bleak but humorous reminder of the existential thoughts we all wrestle with from time to time. Despite Sigmund’s gloomy perspective, I’ve learned through my work that the point is in how we live, the connections we make, and the purpose we find, no matter how elusive those things may feel in our darkest moments. And might I add, how fast those moments hit us if and when they come. But, I’ll save that story for another time.

 

A Path Fueled by Experience and a Desire to Understand

 

Joining the military was a natural extension of my desire to understand things from the inside out. I couldn’t form an opinion on leadership, war, or service without first experiencing them. This led me to five years of active duty in the United States Air Force, including a nine-month combat tour in Iraq, followed by six years in the Air Force Reserves. While I certainly saw the heavy side of military life, it wasn’t all about death and hardship. Far from it.

 

The military also offered incredible camaraderie and countless inspiring moments. Bonds were forged in the fires of shared experiences—moments of triumph, perseverance, and unwavering support for one another. I formed connections that have lasted a lifetime, witnessing firsthand how a supportive network can lift individuals from the darkest places. Yet, it was also sobering to see how one person's journey could be filled with hope and resilience while someone right beside them could be struggling with overwhelming despair.

 

This duality left a profound impact on me, highlighting the diverse and unpredictable nature of human experiences. During my time as an Embedded Behavioral Health Prevention Specialist, a role I like to joke was essentially a fancy military term for “we’re not sure what this job will do, but we’ll figure it out,” I truly began to lean into resistance and drive meaningful change.

 

This position, initially a bit of a trial-and-error experiment, laid the groundwork for a crucial role within the military community. Other branches have since observed and adapted what worked to their own communities. In this role, I was deeply involved in process improvement, policy development, and mentorship. I worked to address outdated concepts of mental health and suicidality, moving from a reactionary approach to one of true prevention. It was about fostering mental toughness while ensuring our military communities received the support they needed.

 

Gaining My Clinical Teeth and the STRIVE Program

 

I knew that if I wanted to make a bigger impact, I needed my clinical license. I sharpened my clinical teeth working with The Ohio State University's STRIVE program. This was my dream job, allowing me to dive into the science of suicidality and explore the psychological and sociological factors at play. As a research therapist working with rigorous protocols, I was under the microscope, where fidelity was paramount. It was a challenging yet invaluable experience, constantly reminding me that what I was learning today would contribute to understanding what we didn’t know we needed to know.

 

The STRIVE program, developed and brought to life by one of the most influential researchers in suicidality within the military, Dr. Craig Bryan, provided a unique opportunity to work under the guidance of a true pioneer. Dr. Bryan’s own military background and impactful story are worth exploring for anyone interested in the intersection of mental health and military service. He’s also authored several books, so feel free to google away, my friends!

 

Picture me as a determined researcher, not unlike a mad scientist, but with a lab filled with empathy and compassion rather than bubbling test tubes. This role allowed me to contribute to groundbreaking work while maintaining a lifelong learner mindset, eager to discover new answers and improve our understanding of suicidality. I also learned that the decision to send individuals to higher levels of care isn’t always black and white—it's often a gray area. With the right support, people can rebound. What might appear as a crisis is often just a loud call for help, and many times, the most powerful support is the person standing right in front of them.

 

Helping People Rediscover Purpose

 

One of the most rewarding—and occasionally heart-wrenching—parts of my job is watching people rediscover their purpose. It’s not always easy, and sometimes it feels like an uphill battle. But the moments when someone moves from feeling like they’re out of options to finding a glimmer of hope are worth every second.

 

Through my private practice, The Anxious Owl, I’ve continued to build on the foundation laid by my military and research experiences to specialize in suicide risk reduction, anxiety, and fostering a healthy mindset. My approach combines evidence-based therapies like Brief Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (BCBT) and Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) with a hefty dose of mindfulness to help clients stay grounded in the present moment and create clarity amidst their perceived turmoil. It’s like offering a life jacket to someone adrift in a sea of uncertainty—except the life jacket is made of practical skills and compassion.

 

Why I Continue This Work

 

At the core of it all, my reason for sticking with this challenging work is straightforward: I believe in life. Even when it feels like the universe is just one big, cosmic joke, I believe that there’s always a flicker of light somewhere. I believe in the power of connection and the possibility of finding purpose, even when it seems like everything’s falling apart.

 

Whether I’m working with a teenager navigating depression, a veteran dealing with past trauma, or a professional overwhelmed by life’s demands, my goal is to walk alongside them, helping them see that tomorrow could hold something better. To help them tap into their inner wisdom, quieting the noise, and begin to live the life they deserve. It’s a challenging, but when you get to witness someone find their reason to keep going, it’s the best kind of reward.

 

So, that’s why I do what I do. Despite the darkness, I truly believe we all have the ability to thrive, to find our hope, our reason for living, and to embrace our true, authentic selves. For me, that’s enough to keep diving into the discomfort, offering each person I work with my hope—until they can believe in their own.

Warmly,

Stacy Schumpert, LCSW

 

Key References

 

1. Bryan, C. J., & Rudd, M. D. (2018). Understanding and Preventing Suicide: A Guide for the Military Professional. Routledge.

2. Bryan, C. J., & Morrow, C. E. (2011). Military suicide prevention: What we can learn from civilian research and what is unique to military settings. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 67(3), 277-291.

3. Baker, M. A. (2014). Stress and Resilience in Military Personnel. Routledge.

4. Kabat-Zinn, J. (2003). Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR). In Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction: A Comprehensive Guide. New Harbinger Publications.

5. Linehan, M. M. (1993). Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder. Guilford Press.

6. American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). Provides comprehensive resources and research on suicide prevention. Website: afsp.org

7. National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH). Offers information on mental health conditions and suicide prevention. Website: nimh.nih.gov

8. World Health Organization (WHO). (2014). Preventing Suicide: A Global Imperative. WHO.

9. U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. (2019). VA National Suicide Prevention Annual Report. VA.

 

This publication is not copyrighted and is in the public domain. Duplication is encouraged.

 

The following content is for learning and curiosity purposes only.  It is not intended to substitute for the medical expertise and advice of your health care provider(s). We encourage you to discuss any decisions about treatment or care with your health care provider. The mention of any product, service, or therapy is not an endorsement by The Anxious Owl PLLC.

 

Last Updated: September 2024