Iona Winter

This year’s theme for World Suicide Prevention Day was “changing the narrative around suicide”. How can we do this, when there’s no way to sugarcoat suicide bereavement? It’s not a thing you survive; this kind of grief accompanies you for life.

I’ve attempted to challenge “the narrative around suicide” by writing A Counter of Moons (Steele Roberts Aotearoa 2025) and In the shape of his hand lay a river (Elixir & Star Press 2024). Trusting they would make it into the right hands, I’ve done my best to be undisturbed by the accompanying silence. People are percolating, processing and feeling – well, that’s been my hope, because I didn’t want anyone else to feel isolated and silenced.

“If we cannot speak about it, how can we remedy the pain of traumatic grief and support one another more adequately.” (A Counter of Moons, 2025)

A stranger recently asked if I had kids, and when I said yes but that he had died by suicide, they immediately changed tack and focused on the people I was with. In that moment I felt instantly dismissed, almost nullified, along with my son. Conversely, a writerly friend mentioned (when reading the book) that they could only stay in ‘this space’ for short periods of time, but realised that ‘this space’ is one I cannot leave and they were saddened by it. By being open about my grieving, it has left me juggling the dichotomies of grief. The silence I mention feels like a dismissal of Reuben’s existence – it’s not about my books.

What has kept me going (as a writer) are the treasured handful of gracious humans who’ve said ‘how’ A Counter of Moons and In the shape of his hand lay a river were for them. Some commented that they have also encountered the same silence since the suicide of their beloved. So, do I continue to be real or say nothing? That’s the dilemma. I’ve been told that ‘people’ don’t want to hear negative things (when the world appears increasingly more negative), and god help me if I should look ‘stuck’ in this grief. I hear the projections coming from a mile away these days.

Truth: I am grieving my son, niece, nephew, beloved friend’s children – those who felt suicide was their only option. I also grieve for the bereaved who are silenced and avoided like pariah. It’s a dreadfully barren and lonely place to find yourself in, with any kind of deep grief.

The thing is, I understand (more so since Reuben’s death) that my role here on Earth has nothing to do with fame and book sales, but everything to do with shining a bright light on issues our societies avoid. I guess that makes me an outlier and a pariah (cue the mad woman laughter). Hands down, if I had to write this book again I would do so in a heartbeat, because somebody needs to name the elephant in the room and I have nothing to fear from doing so. If you’re reading this and you’re bereaved by the suicide of a loved one – I SEE YOU.

“I hope that my words might shine light for another, or encourage discussion in a society where suicide is still shrouded in shame…Reuben would want that too, I’m sure.” (A Counter of Moons, 2025).

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