Suicidal thoughts are deeply human and deeply misunderstood.
Suicide is not an easy conversation. It lives in a place many of us would rather turn away from, and that silence can feel devastating when we are the ones carrying these thoughts. When we already feel overwhelmed or hopeless, being misunderstood can deepen the ache. Myths and assumptions widen the distance, leaving many of us feeling more alone when we most need connection.
Unhelpful, damaging messages are sadly quite common responses:
“Suicide is selfish.”
“Just think positive — you have so much to live for.”
“Others have it worse.”
“Do more self-care — take a walk, take a bath.”
Although often well-meaning, these responses usually come from fear or discomfort. They can unintentionally dismiss the complexity of our pain and rupture trust in moments when reaching out took courage. Many of us even avoid saying the word suicide because we’ve absorbed the myth that speaking it makes it more likely to happen. In reality, turning toward one another with care, listening, asking, sitting in the dark together, can be grounding, relieving, even life-preserving.
Not All Suicidal Thoughts Feel the Same
All experiences of suicidality deserve attention and care. And within that spectrum, there are differences in how intense, persistent, or overwhelming our thoughts may feel. Some of us experience passive thoughts of not wanting to exist, a sign of exhaustion or desire for relief, more than a wish to die. Others feel pulled toward more active thoughts or planning, which can increase risk and require immediate support and connection.
However, when we experience suicidality, what we feel matters. We are not alone in it.
If suicidality is a language, trauma may be its root
Shock trauma and complex relational trauma can disrupt our connection to ourselves, making it harder to hold overwhelming emotion or find relief inside our own system. When symptoms are intense, exhausting, and relentless, suicide may feel less like wanting to die and more like wanting pain to stop.
Many of us who carry trauma also carry toxic shame. We may hate the parts of us that hurt, believing we must eliminate them to survive. But attacking ourselves often intensifies suffering, leaving little room for peace, connection, or pleasure. As we build capacity to be in relationship with the parts of us that feel suicidal, we begin to hear what they’re holding — and why they came to exist in the first place.
This is where non-pathologizing trauma-informed work can help.
From an IFS (Internal Family Systems) perspective, suicidal parts are not villains — they are firefighters who rushed in to put out emotional fires that once felt unmanageable. Their strategies may be frightening, but they grew from protection, not malice. Through IFS, we learn to meet all our parts with curiosity and begin to experience life from our wise, adult Self rather than from fear or collapse.
NARM (Neuro-Affective Relational Model) offers a similar lens: suicidality is a survival strategy, not a failure. After trauma, many of us operate from child consciousness, relying on strategies that once shielded us but now limit or harm us. NARM helps us reclaim agency, understand how suicidal impulses once helped us cope, and grow into adult consciousness where we have more choice, presence, and connection.
Trauma work and healing-oriented therapy support us in developing new ways of relating to ourselves, ways that soften our dependence on suicidal strategies while honoring the purpose they once served.
When we approach our parts with compassion instead of fear, we begin to recognize their wisdom. Even the strategies we dislike often carry history, meaning, and protection. When we welcome them, messages long held in silence can finally be heard.
It is often easier to turn inward with blame than to face the possibility that those we depended on may have harmed us. Shame can feel safer than acknowledging the terror of not being protected or understood. Suicidal thoughts can even offer a sense of control when everything else feels helpless or out of reach.
These are just a few examples of the wisdom that suicidal parts may hold when we listen with openness. In IFS and NARM, we’re not trying to push these parts away; we’re building a relationship with them, allowing our internal world more space to breathe. With that space, peace, quiet, and love have room to exist alongside, and eventually instead of the suicidal thoughts that once felt like the only option.
Start working with an IFS-Trained Trauma Therapist in Highland Park and Los Angeles
There is much wisdom that suicidal parts hold when we listen with openness. In IFS and NARM, we’re not trying to push these parts away; we’re building a relationship with them, allowing our internal world more space to breathe. With that space, peace, quiet, and love have room to exist alongside, and eventually instead of the suicidal thoughts that once felt like the only option.
Reach out to schedule a free 15-minute consultation and begin reconnecting with every part of you, including the ones that may feel scary, overwhelming, and yes, suicidal.
Other Services Offered at Therapy on Fig
At Therapy on Fig, we provide therapy services tailored to the unique needs of couples and individual adults and teens. We offer Neurodivergent Affirming Therapy, IFS Therapy, Grief and Loss Therapy, Therapy for Empaths, Trauma Therapy, Couples Therapy, Teen Therapy, ADHD Therapy, Group Therapy, and Therapy for Entrepreneurs. Whether you're seeking support for a specific issue or looking to strengthen your relationship overall, our therapists are here to help. Reach out today to learn more about our services!
Michael Hung is Associate Marriage and Family Therapist #154058, supervised by Phillip Chang, LCSW #92156. He is trained in Internal Family Systems (Level 1) and modalities rooted in a somatically-based trauma-informed approach, such as Neuroaffective Relational Model (Level 2), Intimacy from the Inside Out (IFIO), and Gottman Method.