01/16/2026
Su***de is often spoken about in whispers—if it’s spoken about at all. At NAMI Iowa we know that honest stories break stigma and open doors to help. This is the story of a survivor—someone who lived through suicidal thoughts as well as an attempt and found a way forward. We share stories like this because they matter. Because representation matters. And because hearing “you’re not alone” can be the difference between staying silent and reaching out.
Meet Jeff.
Jeff was a bank market president of a small-town bank. Retired now.
A father. A grandfather.
A former youth baseball coach as well as an assistant high school football coach.
A respected and active member of his community.
From the outside, he looked like someone who had it all.
Two years ago, he was going through a separation in the middle of a divorce, Jeff made the decision to end his life. One morning he started his car in the garage and went to sleep with no intention of waking up.
But he did wake up.
And the next day, he went to work as if nothing had happened.
That’s men’s mental health.
From an early age, boys are taught don’t cry, don’t talk, don’t be weak. Handle it yourself. So, Jeff did what many men and teen boys do—he showed up, did his job, and kept everything locked tightly inside.
That morning didn’t just nearly end his life.
It changed the direction of it.
Surviving something like that doesn’t return you to “normal.” It sends you somewhere else—often to places you never planned to go and never would have chosen. Jeff didn’t set out to be an advocate. He didn’t wake up wanting to talk about su***de. But pain has a way of pushing people toward work that truly matters.
That’s how Jeff found his way to the board of NAMI Central Iowa . Not because of a title. But because of lived experience.
He speaks openly to community groups and organizations. He shares his story not to shock, but to create understanding—and to offer hope.
When conversations turn to su***de, especially among young people, the question most often asked is, “Why?”
Jeff offers a difficult truth: we usually ask that question too late.
Instead, he focuses on listening—to young people who have survived attempts, to those who feel invisible despite appearing “fine.” Jeff knows firsthand that su***de doesn’t always look the way we expect it to.
Jeff also speaks with families who have lost loved ones to su***de, as well as those supporting someone who has survived—offering compassion, understanding, and the reminder that no one has to carry this pain alone.
After a loss, people often say, “I can’t believe they would do that. They seemed so happy.”
But many people wear a convincing smile while quietly carrying unbearable pain. For Jeff, that pain came from a deep sense of failure—about his marriage, his role as a father, and who he believed he was supposed to be.
In that moment, those thoughts felt real and permanent.
Today, he knows they were not true.
What Jeff understands now—and what he shares with others—is that thoughts of su***de are not signs of weakness or failure. They are signals of overwhelming pain, often compounded by silence and isolation.
He also shares that the morning in the garage was not the first time he had considered ending his life. In earlier moments, something always intervened—a phone call, an interruption, time passing. Looking back, Jeff doesn’t see those moments as coincidences, but as reminders that even in the darkest places, connection is still possible.
What ultimately changed things for Jeff was connection. His church. Friends. Family. After surviving his attempt, he began to talk—first cautiously, then honestly—about what he had been carrying alone. Through peer support and education, he learned that others had lived through similar pain.
Thank you Jeff for sharing your story with NAMI Iowa.
