Saving a Life: The Power of a Simple Conversation

I want to tell you about the time I saved a life.

Not for praise or recognition. Honestly, I still feel uncomfortable sharing this story. But I believe there’s a lesson here we all need to hear.

It took me months to accept that I had played a role in saving someone’s life. As humans, we downplay our involvement in big events, especially when they feel too overwhelming to process. But few events are as significant as this one.

At the time, I wasn’t a mental health professional. I wasn’t trained to handle crises. I was just someone who had been open about my own struggles with mental health, and I made it clear to my colleagues that I was always available to talk.

That openness saved a life.

The Moment Everything Changed

It was 4:30 PM on a Friday. I was coasting through the final hour of the workweek, counting down to the weekend. Then, a senior manager walked up to my desk.

“Pete, do you have a minute for a chat?”

My stomach dropped. I was convinced I was about to get in trouble. But when we sat down in a quiet meeting room, I realized this wasn’t about me at all. Their face wasn’t angry or frustrated—it was filled with pain.

They took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “What I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room,” they said. “But I’m telling you because I’ve seen how open you are about mental health, and I need someone to talk to.”

Then, the words that stopped my world: “After work today, I’m going to kill myself.”

A Conversation That Changed Everything

I froze. For a moment, my mind raced, my chest tightened, and I wasn’t sure what to say. But I remembered the simplest advice I’d once heard: Just listen.

So I did.

They laid out their plan. Every detail was as calm as if they were planning a weekend trip. They believed they were about to lose their job, their home, and access to their kids. They saw no other way forward.

As they talked, I reminded myself that I wasn’t there to fix everything. I wasn’t a therapist or a doctor. My job in that moment was to hold space—to let them talk and help them explore possibilities.

So I asked one question that opened the door: “Are these outcomes set in stone?”

That small question cracked something open. For the first time, they admitted they didn’t know for sure. That uncertainty became our first step forward.

From Hopelessness to Options

We started exploring options. Some were practical; some were silly. But each one was a step away from the ledge.

Then I asked, “What about calling the Samaritans?” Their response broke my heart: “Do you think I’m at that point?”

I gently turned the question back to them: “If I’d told you what you just told me, what would you say?”

They broke down. The reality of their situation hit them, and they realized how serious it was. By the end of our conversation, they chose three options:

1. Go to the GP.

2. Call the Samaritans.

3. Go to the pub and get drunk.
   

The first option felt the most manageable to them, so we made a detailed, step-by-step plan:

1. Get in the car.

2. Drive past the hotel.

3. Pass McDonald’s.

4. Walk into the GP office.

5. Tell the receptionist.

A Life Saved

That conversation didn’t just save their life—it transformed it. Today, they’re alive, happy, healthy, and thriving. None of the catastrophic outcomes they feared happend.

Looking back, I realize what I did wasn’t extraordinary. It was mental health first aid at its core:

1. Listen non-judgmentally and validate.

2. Provide comfort and support.

3. Signpost to further help.

These are simple, learnable skills. They don’t require clinical expertise—just a willingness to be present, to listen, and to hold space, and yes, sometimes get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Why This Matters for All of Us

This experience is one of the reasons I’m so passionate about mental health and wellbeing support. Conversations like this can change lives—not just when someone is suicidal, but in countless other moments when someone feels lost, overwhelmed, or stuck.

To you, it might feel like “just a conversation.” But to the person sitting across from you, it could mean the world. It could even save their life.

So here’s my challenge to you: Invest in these skills. Take the time to learn how to have difficult conversations, how to create a safe space, and how to guide someone toward support.

You never know when someone will need you. And you never know the difference you could make.

Creating this kind of environment isn’t easy—it requires consistent effort, leadership buy-in, and an ongoing commitment to making wellbeing a priority. But the rewards are undeniable. An organisation that cares about its people sees that care reflected in how its people approach their work, interact with each other, and represent the company externally. It’s about creating a workplace where people feel proud to belong, and where they know their struggles won’t be ignored or dismissed but will be met with understanding and support.

This isn't something you can just have off to someone in HR who is already spinning 8 different plates and expect them to get on with it. You need a specialist who understands what's involved. So, If you’re reading this and thinking about your organisation’s approach, I’m currently open to new opportunities in wellbeing leadership. Based in the West Midlands, I’m happy to explore how I can help bring a balanced and effective wellbeing strategy to your workplace.

Let’s make sure every employee can come to work feeling safe, supported, and ready to thrive. Together, we can create workplaces where wellbeing is part of the fabric of the organisation—woven into every process, every interaction, and every decision.