On September 7, 2015, I sat in a bathtub, staring at the rising water, asking myself one question over and over again: Why are you here?
Three years post-graduate, I was working as an associate clinical social worker in hospice care. On the surface, I looked like I had it together. But beneath the mask, I was crumbling. I was mourning the loss of my fiancé three years before, reeling from a broken engagement, and adjusting to my firstborn daughter moving 3,000 miles away for college. The grief and isolation became too heavy to hold. As the water climbed higher, I had the means, the mode, and the opportunity to end my life.
And then, the phone rang.
A friend called out of the blue, unaware of the storm raging in my mind. That simple interruption— “How are you doing?”—was enough to jolt me from despair to survival. It pushed me to drive myself to urgent care.
They Don’t Know
When I arrived, I whispered to the doctor what was happening in my head. His eyes widened with fear. He asked me quietly, “What should I do?”
Imagine that. I was the patient, but in his moment of uncertainty, he looked to me, the clinician, for guidance.
That moment revealed something profound: even trained professionals can freeze when confronted with suicidal ideation. If a medical doctor could be paralyzed by fear and lack of training, how much more uncertain might a parent, pastor, teacher, or friend feel when someone confides in them about wanting to die?
That gap in knowledge is not just unfortunate; it can be deadly. When people around us don’t know what to say, how to ask the right questions, or where to guide us, lives are put at risk.
Three Hours on the Ground
After being transferred by ambulance just two blocks away, I sat outside the hospital waiting for hours. Three hours to be exact. Alone, exhausted, and unsure of what would happen next.
But then something unexpected happened. I noticed butterflies floating across the courtyard. I watched strangers laugh and share lunch. And slowly, something inside me shifted. The heaviness in my head began to melt down through my shoulders and into the earth beneath me.
I didn’t know the name for it then, but I later learned this was called grounding or earthing— establishing a direct connection with the earth to stabilize the body’s energetic fields.
In those three hours, the earth itself helped calm my body when human systems had failed me. That experience planted the seed for the work I do today.
The Danger of Silence
Looking back, I realize how many things could have gone differently that day.
If my friend hadn’t called, I may not be here today.If the doctor had more training, he might have offered words of grounding instead of fear. If someone had been able to sit with me in those three hours outside the hospital, the loneliness wouldn’t have been so sharp.
The truth is, Black communities are particularly vulnerable. We face higher rates of trauma, chronic stress, and systemic inequities. And yet, we are often met with silence, stigma, or avoidance when we try to talk about mental health.
Too often, our loved ones simply don’t know what to do. They want to help, but without training or tools, they remain quiet—and silence can be the difference between life and death.
From Survivor to Educator
That bathtub moment was not the end of my story; it was the beginning of my purpose. I realized that my survival came not only from my own strength but from small interventions—interruptions, grounding, and a connection to something bigger than myself.
Over the past ten years, I have committed myself to making sure others have more than luck to rely on. I train communities, schools, and organizations in three key areas:
Emotional Intelligence – helping people build awareness of their feelings, manage stress, and respond to others with compassion. It creates language where silence once lived.
QPR (Question, Persuade, Refer) – a suicide prevention model that equips everyday people to notice warning signs, ask direct questions, and connect someone in crisis to help. Much like CPR for the body, QPR is first aid for the mind.
Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) – an evidence-based program that provides tools to recognize and respond to mental health challenges, whether it’s anxiety, depression, or a crisis.
These trainings are not abstract certifications to me. They are the very things that could have saved me that day—and they are the tools that can save others.
I also integrate the wisdom of bioenergetics and Reiki healing into education when communities are open to it, because healing does not only come from language and intervention. Sometimes it comes from energy flow, touch, breath, and the ancient traditions our ancestors used to balance body and
mind. These practices, when combined with evidence-based models, create a fuller, richer path to wellness.
Ten Years Later
Ten years after that bathtub moment, I sit here alive, thriving, and deeply committed to reshaping how communities view mental health. My journey has taken me from a place of personal despair to becoming an international mental health educator, teaching across borders that healing is communal, cultural, and multidimensional.
The lesson of my survival is not just my own. It is a call to community responsibility. Mental health is not only the job of professionals—it belongs to all of us. Every parent, teacher, pastor, and neighbor can play a role in saving a life.
When communities receive training in emotional intelligence, QPR, MHFA, and an introduction to practices like grounding, bioenergetics, and Reiki, they are no longer passive bystanders. They become active participants in healing. They become part of the solution.
I survived because of a phone call, three hours of earth’s grounding, and eventually, the decision to go back inside and get the help I came for. Others should not have to rely on chance. They should be able to rely on their community.
A Call to Action
If you are part of a community—whether it’s a school, a church, a workplace, or simply a family— consider what it would mean if someone near you was silently asking themselves, Why are you here? Would you know what to do? Would you know what to say?
We cannot afford to leave these answers to chance. We must equip ourselves and our communities with emotional intelligence, QPR, and Mental Health First Aid. We must also be willing to embrace holistic approaches, too—connecting to the grounding power of the earth and the wisdom of ancient practices that align body, mind, and spirit.
Ten years ago, one phone call and three hours on a hospital sidewalk changed my life. Today, I work so that others won’t have to rely on fate. Together, we can create communities where survival is not the exception, but the expectation.
Laneay L. London, MSW
Laneay L. London, MSW, is the founder and CEO of Laneay London Illuminating Minds LLC, a consulting and training firm specializing in mental health education, emotional intelligence, suicide prevention, and holistic wellness practices. An international mental health educator, Laneay brings both lived experience and professional expertise to her work in advancing Black wellness and community healing.
Learn more about the Association of Black Psychologists and their mental health resources here.
