He was a fighter, it's sad to see him go like that.

Some things hit harder than others.

Yesterday morning, NRL Figure Paul Green was found dead and it’s been reported that he died by suicide.

Maybe it hit me harder because his name is one letter removed from my Dads (Paul Breen). Maybe it’s because I know the pain his children would be feeling and I know the pain ahead of them.

“He’s a fighter, it’s very sad to see Greeny go like that”

This comment in one of the many articles jumped out at me. I know the message would have been nothing but heartfelt and when I truly unpack that statement, I don’t think there’s anything untrue in it. But I recognise something in there.

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“Matt, I’m Depressed”

I wish I could have understood what was behind those words when my Dad said them to me. Without fully comprehending the pain he was in, I asked him whether he should go see someone, whether he could see a psychologist to help him through his struggle

“I can’t, it would damage my career”

I didn’t know how tragic those words were until he took his life. My Dad knew he was struggling and he didn’t feel like he could fully admit it, because of how he thought he would be viewed.

I can’t help but feel this would be the same in Rugby League circles. I love the game, I love the fans, and I love the personalities. I genuinely think it’s the ‘toughest’ sport going around and I think with that, comes a sense of stoicism.

And with stoicism, by its very definition, comes an unwillingness to acknowledge discomfort.

Rugby League does some great things around mental health, even our very own Canberra Raiders champion the Silence is Deadly Program. Perhaps part of the reason these programs exist is because people from the rugby league community, people from all communities for that matter, still don’t truly understand mental health struggles and suicide.

I know it because I see it, and I see it because I recognise it.

When writing the eulogy for my Dad’s funeral, I remember wanting to communicate that the way he died was not the way he lived. I thought that somehow, through the act of taking his life, he’d tarnished his reputation.

I know this isn’t true, but it’s how I felt at the time. Maybe I was embarrassed, maybe I was ashamed that I wasn’t enough of a reason for him to see a life worth living. I know these aren’t true thoughts, but there was a reason I felt the need to tell a church full of people that “the way my Dad died, was not who he was”.

“He’s a fighter, it’s very sad to see Greeny go like that”

“Like that”. Seeing anyone die is sad. Seeing someone die from suicide might be inherently more tragic because to varying degrees, it’s a choice. And maybe I’m misinterpreting the statement, but I think it unknowingly represents a broader issue.

Suicide is taboo. It’s something that contradicts us to our very core. Not only are our loved ones making a decision that infers we’re not enough, but they are also making a decision that infers there’s no point living.

The act of suicide is a statement of belief that I know to be false. People who commit suicide feel a burden to their loved ones, they feel isolated, and they feel like there is no better option.

From my experience, I know my Dad was not a burden to me. I know if he reached out to me that he would not have been isolated. I know there were countless options that would have been better than taking his life. But I know he didn’t feel that way.

Suicide represents a failure in our society. A failure in letting people know that they aren’t a burden, that they aren’t isolated, and regardless of a situation that someone is faced with, that there is always hope.

We have to have empathy towards someone’s struggle, that is critical. But how can we truly have empathy if we don’t talk about it properly? How can we fully comprehend the problem at hand if we’re always dancing around the concept of suicide?

We can’t.

I wrote recently about my fear that "because I’m my Father’s son, am I somehow destined for the same fate?” I know that it’s not the case, but consistently engaging with the concept of suicide is an uncomfortable exercise for me.

I engage with the concept of suicide because I truly believe we can make a difference. I truly believe that one life can be saved from suicide, repeatedly. I truly believe it is worth the discomfort.

Every time I write an article, every time I speak about my experiences, I’m revisiting trauma. Each time I visit it, I comprehend it a bit more, I understand it a bit better, and over time, it carries less and less weight.

Our society needs to go through that same process.

It won’t happen overnight, and it won’t be comfortable. But each time our society properly deals with suicide, we’ll collectively comprehend it a bit more, we’ll unite our understandings a bit better, and over time, our community will carry less and less weight, allowing us to carry those who need it.

“He was a fighter, It’s sad to Greeny go.”

Just. Keep. Moving.