Mental Health
In the summer of 2006, when I was just 14 years old, I survived a suicide attempt. This summer marks 19 years since that day—a day when my story could have ended, but God had other plans. That moment became a turning point. It was then that I began to explore my faith more deeply and to discern the calling that would eventually lead me to the priesthood—a calling I had sensed since the age of nine.
At 16, I preached my first sermon. From that time on, I have carried a deep attentiveness to the needs of others. I have sought to live with compassion and to be a safe place for people from all walks of life. Around that same season, I made my first pastoral care visit. When I noticed our youth leader missing from church, I walked two miles to check on her. Later, she wrote to my grandmother about how much that simple visit meant.
If my life had ended at 14, I would not have had the privilege of walking alongside you today, nor the joy of serving in our Benefice. In that fragile season, if someone had told me that greater things lay ahead, I don’t think I could have believed them. That is why I share this with you: because mental health matters, and because so many around us carry unseen struggles.
Often, people become skilled at “masking”—hiding their true feelings to avoid stigma or to keep from feeling like a burden. Behind the smiles may be depression, stress, anxiety, or grief. That is why it is so important to check in on one another, and to truly listen when we ask, “How are you?”
My invitation to you in the weeks and months ahead is simple: reach out. Invite your friends, family, colleagues, and neighbors into real conversations. Trust your instincts—if something feels off, it probably is. Offer support when you can, or help connect others with resources that may bring hope and healing.
Let us also work together to normalize therapy and counseling. Each of us needs support in different ways, and there is no shame in seeking it. As you engage with others, do so with gentleness and warmth. Many survivors carry the fear of being judged or misunderstood, and your compassion can help ease that burden.
And remember: taking care of yourself matters, too. Find small practices that nurture your heart and body—whether it’s a walk in nature, a cup of tea, painting, swimming, working a puzzle, yoga, a call with a loved one, or simply sending a text to someone you trust. Even 15 minutes of meditation or reflection can make a real difference. Self-care, whatever it looks like in your reality, is not a luxury but a necessity.
Finally, if you or someone you love is ever in deep crisis, please remember that immediate help is available. You can call or text 988, which connects you to people who will listen and guide you toward safe spaces. Sometimes just an hour with someone who understands can bring relief and remind you that you are not alone. And while you may sometimes feel like a burden, hear me clearly: you are not a burden—the illness may make it feel that way, but your life is of infinite value.
Calling the numbers below is better sometimes because you can see a ‘real’ person sooner:
Here are local crisis resources for our communities in Wisconsin:
Barron County Crisis Line: 888-552-6642
Washburn County Crisis Line: 888-860-0373
Sawyer County Crisis Line: 866-317-9362
Friends, your life matters. The lives of those around you matter. Let’s walk gently with each other, listening deeply, and holding space for hope. The world is a better place because you are in it!!!
Mother Nozipho Dlodlo
Northern Highland Benefice
