Yes, Even Mental Health Needs First Aid.

Last Updated on July 14, 2025 by Grace Oluchi

I didn’t know how to save myself, so I tried to save everybody else.

You ever been that person? The “therapist friend” with a crumbling spirit and a soft voice? The one who knows when someone is not okay just by the way they say “I’m fine” too fast? Yeah. That was me.

But let me tell you this: nobody teaches you how to help without bleeding out yourself. Nobody gives you a manual for when the group chat turns into a suicide hotline.

Let’s talk about that.

The Key Takeaway.

Mental health first aid is NOT about fixing people. It’s about knowing what in the world to do when things go left, before the ambulance, before the diagnosis, before the funeral. It’s the emotional CPR we should all know, but barely anyone talks about. This stuff saves lives and not with white coats, but with real conversations, real awareness, and real guts.

What Is Mental Health First Aid & Why It’s Important.

Mental health first aid is like knowing what to do when someone’s soul is choking. Like CPR, but for breakdowns, panic attacks, depressive spirals, suicidal thoughts, you know, the stuff people love to talk about but never prepare for.

It matters because, NEWS FLASH: people don’t only die when they stop breathing. Sometimes, they die in pieces. Quietly. On your watch.

And it’s not your job to save them, but, it helps to know what to say. What to notice. When to not brush things off. When to stay on the call instead of hanging up.

You don’t need to be a therapist.

But you need to stop pretending you don’t see it. In fact, you need to be able to see it in the first place.

Brutal Honesty.

We’re not taught this.

Most of us are just out here guessing.

• Your friend has a panic attack and what do you do? Offer water and pray?
• Google “how to stop someone from hyperventilating” with shaky hands?
• Tell them to “just breathe”? Newsflash: they ARE breathing, that’s why they’re alive enough to panic.

See the gap?

People know how to wrap cuts, how to give CPR but they don’t know how to respond to, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Let me paint a scene:

Your roommate hasn’t left her bed in 4 days. The room smells like a wet sock. Her phone’s on DND. Her eyes? Blank. The group chat says “she’ll be fine.” But something in your gut says otherwise.

Mental health first aid teaches you to trust that gut. To ask the question directly: “Are you thinking of hurting yourself?”

Yes, that bluntly.

Because beating around the bush doesn’t work when someone’s drowning in their mind.

And Then…

Sometimes the one who needs the first aid… is you.

And that’s where it stings. Because no one wants to admit they don’t have the energy to hold space for other people anymore.

But you’ll keep showing up. Nodding. Supporting. Checking in. Until your own brain starts sending SOS signals you ignore.

Let me say this loud and clear: Mental health first aid is also about YOU knowing when to TAP OUT.

• To say: “Hey, I don’t have the capacity right now, but I love you.”
• To create space without guilt.
• And to not become the therapist-friend-martyr with nothing left.

Because what’s the point of knowing how to resuscitate everyone else if you’re slowly dying inside?

Now, How Do You Give A Mental Health First Aid?

STEP 1: Notice the Signs (Even When They’re Subtle AF).

Mental breakdowns don’t always show up as crying. Sometimes they show up as:

• Going ghost out of nowhere.
• Talking like life is meaningless.
• “Joking” about dying (they’re not really joking).
• Posting weird, cryptic things online.
• Not eating / overeating.
• Sleeping too much or not at all.
• Being overly snappy or too numb.
• Always saying “I’m tired” but it’s not physical.
• Giving stuff away suddenly.

Mental health crises wear disguises. Your job is to recognize the patterns. And listen to your gut if something feels off. That gut? That’s God sometimes.

STEP 2: Say Something. Even If You’re Scared.

This is the most important step. Most people freeze because they don’t want to “say the wrong thing.”

But you know what’s worse than saying the wrong thing? Saying NOTHING.

So here’s what to say:

• “Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve been really quiet lately… are you okay?”
• “This might sound random, but I just wanted to check on your mental health. Like, really check.”
• “I saw your tweet/IG story… and I just wanna ask, are you in a bad place right now?”
• “Are you feeling like hurting yourself?”

Yep. You can ask that last one. Don’t sugar-coat. Say it straight. Also, you will not put the idea in their head. If it’s in their head, it’s already there. You asking might just be the thing that pulls them back from the edge.

STEP 3: Listen. Shut Up. Just Listen.

No advice. No Bible verses. No “look on the bright side.”

Just sit with them in the mess. Say:

• “That sounds really heavy.”
• “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
• “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Let the silence sit, let them cry. If they say nothing? Still stay. Your presence can be louder than any words.

STEP 4: Don’t Try to “Fix” Them.

You’re not a therapist. Stop acting like you need all the answers. If someone says, “I want to die,” don’t panic. Don’t be like,

“Noooo don’t say that, you have so much to live for!”

Nah. That minimizes their pain. Instead say:

“Thank you for trusting me with that. I’m going to help you get through this.”

Boom. Powerful. Supportive. Grounded.

STEP 5: Help Them Get Help (Without Forcing It Down Their Throat)

This part right here?? This is where most people flop.

Don’t say, “You should see a therapist.” Say:

• “Would you be open to talking to someone who’s trained to help?”
• “If I help you find someone or sit with you while you call, would that make it easier?”
• “There are hotlines and free mental health support online. Want me to help you look?”

Make it feel like teamwork, not judgment. Offer to:

• Research therapists together.
• Sit in while they make a call.
• Help them find a crisis line.
• Message a mental health advocate with them.
• Walk them through a breathing exercise if they’re panicking.

Mental health first aid is helping them take the first step, not the whole staircase.

STEP 6: Follow Up Like It’s Life or Death (Because It Might Be).

The check-ins matter.

• Send that text.
• Make that call.
• Say “thinking about you” even if they don’t reply.
• Remind them: “I’m still here.”

Sometimes people test your love by disappearing. Your check-in could be the rope that pulls them out of their own thoughts.

STEP 7: Know Your Limits (Save Yourself Too).

If it’s getting too heavy and you feel like you’re drowning while helping someone else, IT’S OKAY TO TAP OUT. Say:

“I love you. I want you to get help. But I’m not equipped to hold this alone. Can I help you talk to someone who can?”

Mental health first aid means recognizing when you need backup too.

Some Quick Response Cheat Codes.

The Situation	What You Can Say
“I want to die”	“Thank you for telling me. I’m here. Let’s get through this together.”
“I feel like nothing matters”	“I hear you. That feeling is valid. Want to talk about it?”
Random social media sadness	“Hey, I saw your post. Do you want to talk or vent? I’m around.”
Friend isolating	“I’ve been missing you. You okay? I’m here if you want to chat or chill.”
Panic attack	“Okay, breathe with me. In… out… hold my hand. You’re safe. I’m here.”

REMEMBER:

• You’re not here to rescue. You’re here to respond.
• You are not the solution. You’re the first spark of hope.
• You’re not a miracle worker. But you’re a lifeline. And that’s powerful.

We Should Be Taught This in School.

Before algebra.

Before calculus.

And before we learn mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, can someone teach us what to do when someone says, “I want to disappear”?

• We need more than P.E and guidance counselors.
• We need real tools for when things get ugly. Not surface-level stuff. I’m talking about step-by-step, blood-and-bones level training.

This should be as basic as knowing how to dial emergency numbers. Because let’s be honest, when a friend texts you “goodbye,” do you even know what to do?

We know how to call for help when hearts stop. It’s time we learn what to do when souls do. Whew.