We lost our beloved daughter Elana in 2007, when she was eighteen. Starting in eighth grade, Elana was treated for depression with various medications and by various mental health professionals. Elana was generally high functioning, which I think masked a lot of her suffering. I misinterpreted what I now know were warning signs for suicide. For example, she stopped spending time with her friends on email. I viewed this as a mature response to a time-consuming activity, rather than what was more likely self-isolation.

My husband, Michael, and our older daughter, Aliya, and I were fortunate to have access to many support resources. Still, it took years for me to understand and accept in my deepest core that I could not think my way out of this loss, could not right this terrible tragedy, and would never see my darling Elana again.

We heard about AFSP through people in our support group. We attended our first Chicagoland Community Walk with Aliya in Fall 2007. I recall trudging from the parking lot thinking, "I don't think I can do this." But a few of Aliya's friends came for support, so I felt I had to tough it out! I was still functioning in stunned mode. I realize now that every loss survivor’s timeline is unique. Sometimes people believe they’ve made no progress in their healing, but in fact they’ve come a long way. With enough time and grief work, most loss survivors are able to experience pleasure and even joy again.

In Spring 2009, I attended my first AFSP Advocacy Forum in D.C., featuring speakers from AFSP and the government. Attendees came from all over the country, with lots of different experiences. But I recognized myself in them: that I was part of a larger, dedicated, collaborative community. I learned there was work to be done and that I had the capacity to do it. I was hooked.

I became a board member of the Illinois chapter in 2014, and I have been involved in many aspects of AFSP’s work since then. One initiative that means a lot to me is AFSP’s Seize the Awkward campaign, in partnership with the Ad Council and The Jed Foundation, which addresses youth suicide through peer-to-peer conversations. It’s so important for teens and young adults to learn they can make a difference when they reach out to friends.

I am also passionate about Project 2025, which seeks to reduce the annual suicide rate in the U.S. 20% by 2025 by identifying critical areas through which we can make the most impact in the shortest amount of time. I serve as the national chair of the Project 2025 Fundraising Committee. I am convinced Project 2025 is an effective and creative way to teach and empower the folks who interact with those at risk for suicide. I help run committee meetings, review materials, draft agreements for sites interested in suicide prevention training, and support conferences and initiatives focused on Project 2025. I’m currently working with the Illinois chapter to recruit one of the nation’s largest public healthcare systems for suicide prevention training for primary care professionals.

The fundraising component is so important. Great strides were made in HIV control and early breast cancer detection after both public and private funds dramatically increased to address those public health issues. As a major cause of death in the U.S., suicide research and prevention should be funded to this same extent.

Like many people who are suicide loss survivors or who have lived experience, I find that devoting myself to suicide prevention work sustains me. It is a privilege to be able to use my hard-won knowledge about suicide, grief, and prevention to help others. The work provides me with both purpose and solace. I continue my connection with Elana in everything I do for AFSP. I am still Elana’s mom.