Moving for Suicide Prevention, in Memory of Andrew
My brother Andrew died by suicide in 2023.
In Australia, suicide is the leading cause of death for people aged 15–44, with an estimated 30 attempts for every life lost. Stigma and loneliness make this crisis even harder to face.
Andrew, a lifelong Michael Jackson fan and mischief-maker, was the heart of our family pranks. I’ll always cherish our moonwalking practice sessions. Though we can’t dance together again, I’m learning MJ’s moves in his honour to support Black Dog Institute’s suicide prevention research.
Your donation can bring hope and recovery to those who need help.
Suicide prevention can seem unlikely or difficult—but like learning to moonwalk, it’s not impossible.
My Updates
Under the Radar
Tuesday 8th Apr
Up to 60 per cent of Australians who die by suicide never knock on the door of mental health services. These are the invisible, undiagnosed, and unsupported—flying solo final flights with tragic efficiency.
Under the Radar, one of Black Dog Institute’s investigative programs into suicide prevention aims to detect these lost pilots early and focuses on marginalised groups such as Indigenous Australians and LGBTQ+ individuals. It requires working closely with grassroots organisations.
The Federal Labor Government’s $1 billion mental health pledge, announced today, could mark a lift-off for more substantial, better-equipped frontline support. With targeted funding, we may be able to build a secondary radar to track at-risk cohorts and deliver the tailored interventions they desperately need.
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He Flew West
Sunday 9th Mar
I know there's a place, way up in the sky,
Where pilots can go, ere it’s time they must die.
There that the planes are aligned with precision
A Chaucer Street hallway, the runway decision
A place where a pilot has nothing to fear,
A silver-lined spot, where the airspace is clear
It’s where they sing loud, and they drink and then snore
The kind of a place where a Concorde can roar
I know there’s a place where the best pilots go
When their wings get too weary, their airspeed too slow
The songs played are loved, their collectibles hung
And tunes about flying and dying are sung
It's only for pilots who’ve flown west before,
They call out your name, as you walk thru the door
They buy you a drink, if your heart it feels sad
Then shout to the others, “Make room for this dad!”
It's way down the back where there sits an old guy
(He’d dropped off the radar but taught you to fly)
Who’d wiggle his pinkie and grin with a sneer
And, "Thank you very much son, I'm pleased that you're here!”
I know there’s this place when the pilots are done
Not troubled with pain, but warmed by the sun
A place where they go to and wait for their mother
Walk with their dream, and think of their brother
It’s so far away but it’s there in the sky
Awaiting the bravest of pilots who try
Away from the weight of a life full of noise,
Their hours are happy, they play with their toys
O fly with the King, near the beckoning candle!
I’ll dance for you brother (but might break a sandal)
Author best unknown
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Support with Open Arms
Monday 27th Jan
Thank you to my Sponsors
$27.81
Brenda Singleton
$54.12
Catherine Adriaans
$1.51k
One Foot Forward Donations
$58.12
Sam We must share a coffee soon. It's been far too long. Sending love to you all in Melbourne. Aunty B/ xxx