There are details of the past 11 years Corinda Taylor cannot remember clearly - the identity of speakers at the inaugural World Suicide Prevention Day event in Dunedin, when the newly-formed trust began applying for funds to expand services, all the recommendations in the independent review of coroners’ investigations of suspected suicides... Some of the gaps could be due to grief following the self-inflicted death of one of her children. But it is largely a sign of the speed at which the past decade has gone; a whirlwind of frenetic activity the Dunedin-based founder of Life Matters Suicide Prevention Trust now wonders how she maintained.
‘‘I became so focused on what I was doing, I literally didn't even look behind me to see what I had done,’’ Corinda says.
‘‘It was always the next thing, the next thing, the next thing.
‘‘There was just so much to do - and hard work, a lot of hard work.’’
The death of 20-year-old Ross, in 2013, had a profound impact on Corinda and her family. It also spurred the bewildered, grieving mother to set up an organisation to help prevent suicide and support other bereaved families. A decade later, she has stepped down from the trust she birthed and nurtured - an organisation that has had local and national impact - but says there is still much to do.
In the 12 months prior to Ross’ death, Corinda says she and husband Sid misread the signs of their son’s deteriorating mental health.
‘‘He was my youngest son and ... I thought we were experienced parents, but obviously we missed all the warning signs. But again, we weren't mental health workers,’’ she says.
‘‘I thought, ‘This is teenage behaviour’, but I didn't pick up on those subtle indicators there was something more going on.’’
Corinda described her son as intelligent, musical, sporty and artistic. But he developed bizarre complaints about aches and pains, had strange, disjointed conversations, lost weight and struggled to sleep and was agitated and anxious.
‘‘We didn’t know these were all signs of a prodrome, the stage before a full-blown episode of psychosis.’’
They thought he was taking drugs. That might well have been part, but only part, of the picture.
Ross sought emergency help a couple of times and, for a while, was placed in care under the Mental Health Act.
‘‘We also didn't know that in the year following the first episode of psychosis there is a high risk of relapse. Unless the person is on the right dose of medication, gets enough sleep, avoids stress and substance use, they can relapse.
‘‘So, we learned many hard truths after Ross passed away. But, tragically, it was too late.’’
He died on March 22 in 2013.
‘‘My whole world was just shattered,’’ Corinda recalls.
‘‘I couldn't sleep and I lost interest in everything that previously brought me joy. It was a very, very difficult time in our lives.’’
In 1994, unhappy with the country’s systemic inequality and growing violence, the trained microbiologist and immunologist, along with her veterinarian husband and their four children all under the age of 6 emigrated to New Zealand.
The family settled in rural Southland and then, in about 2005, when the children were secondary school-aged, moved to Dunedin.
Ross’ death was the antithesis of what they had been working towards.
‘‘We moved countries and provinces to ensure our kids had the best opportunities. So, all of this didn't make sense to me.’’
What helped Corinda through her grief was connection with, and mutual support of, other bereaved whānau.
‘‘I also found solace in sharing the knowledge I had gained; hoping that by doing so, others wouldn't have to pave their own difficult path.
‘‘This is a very lonely, isolating journey. You do need to connect with others who understand.’’
A year later, strongly sensing she needed to do something positive, Corinda put an advertisement in the Otago Daily Times calling for a public meeting to address suicide.
‘‘Suddenly, I had a room full of people.’’
She also started a social media page.
‘‘The timing was right. People wanted to get involved ... they were eager to help make a difference.’’
More meetings were held. Corinda selected a small group of people with whom she formed the Life Matters Suicide Prevention Trust. A month later, the city’s first event to mark World Suicide Prevention Day was held.
Important people in those early years included Denise Kent and Louise Brown, both of the Otago Mental Health Support Trust, university chaplain Rev Greg Hughson and James Sutherland, at the time an 18-year-old university student, who is still a trust member.
A monthly bereavement support group was set up, fundraising began enabling the trust to hire counsellors and therapists giving free therapy and counselling, and a petition was started, adding to voices calling for a national mental health inquiry, which was held in 2017.
That was the same year the trust’s drop-in centre opened in inner-city Albion Pl.
The next year, volunteers with experience of mental distress and addictions, mostly university students, were recruited and trained to give peer support.
‘‘They were just amazing. They not only provided peer support, they helped at events and contributed to fundraising efforts.’’
In 2019, Corinda spearheaded another petition, asking for better support for bereaved whānau through the coronial system.
At the end of that year, she was named a Kiwibank Local Hero.
She made another presentation at Parliament in May, 2021, seeking access to justice for suicide-bereaved families.
Two years ago, the Hope Centre moved to new premises, with more space and greater scope for services, in Hanover St, Dunedin.
Last year, the Trust was awarded a Te Whatu Ora Health NZ contract.
‘‘That was amazing, because we could then employ people rather than rely on volunteers ... [which] meant we could be open six days a week and some nights up until nine o'clock.
‘‘So, it meant we had so much more capacity to look after the needs of our community.’’
Reflecting on the past decade, Corinda mentions a couple of lows and a personal high.
One of the biggest challenges the trust’s board faced, in the early days, was a lack of governance experience.
‘‘I suddenly found myself being chair of Life Matters Suicide Prevention Trust. And at other times I had to step into the role as treasurer and secretary because ... it was a volunteer situation where people sometimes couldn't perform those jobs themselves.
‘‘I felt a deep sense of responsibility when it came to fiscal accountability, especially when handling donated funds ... Every cent was carefully scrutinised; I'm so tight.’’
A personal low was the coronial investigation of Ross’ death, which did not begin for eight years. Held in 2020 and 2021, Corinda describes the 11-day inquiry as ‘‘re-traumatising’’.
‘‘My husband and I, we spent 10 full days in court for the inquest, and that's excluding all the preparation ... and the submissions afterwards. It was, in my opinion, an unnecessary use of taxpayer dollars for a system that fails to support the bereaved whanau.
‘‘Reliving the painful emotions I felt in the days after Ross's death was so traumatic.
‘‘The experience left me feeling broken and exhausted.’’
Corinda has described the time since Ross’ death as ‘‘a decade of hell’’.
But the years have yielded many positives too, she says.
A personal high was getting ‘‘safe talk’’ training.
‘‘It's a suicide prevention course. I got myself qualified as a trainer because I missed all the signs of suicide and I thought, ‘If I missed it, how many other people are missing it?’
‘‘It's so silent - people don't talk about it - and how would you know somebody's struggling unless you ask them?’’
It is difficult to measure success in purely numerical terms, Corinda says.
‘‘The true measure of success, I believe, isn't in the quantity of sessions, but the quality of the support received, and whether it has made a meaningful difference in people's lives.
‘‘And it's those wonderful stories that people share with us afterwards ... ‘You were there when it was the most challenging time in my life, and you actually listened and you gave me the time’.
‘‘It's those beautiful stories coming back from our community that make my heart warm.’’
‘‘She can be very proud that her lasting contribution is seeing more and more people in mental distress in our community provided with ongoing support that helps them move towards wellness.
‘‘Life Matters Suicide Prevention Trust emerged 10 years ago from a place of pain for Corinda and her family but has been built into a service that helps others live with, and move through, their pain and distress. This is something to be very proud of and Dunedin owes her a debt of gratitude.’’
Corinda has stepped down from the trust, ready for a new season of life.
‘‘I had a lot of energy doing all of this work. I have no idea where I found time to sleep. So, I'm really catching up with my sleep. I was so sleep-deprived.’’
The couple are moving north, to be closer to family.
‘‘Yes, spending more time with our grandchildren.’’
But she will continue to actively build community and connections.
She is also adamant there is still a lot of work to be done on suicide prevention and post-vention support.
In Aotearoa New Zealand, 617 people died by suspected suicide in the 12 months to the middle of this year, including 40 in the Southern region.
The rate of suicide, 11.2 per 100,000 people, has been largely static for the past 15 years.
That rate is 60% higher in the most deprived communities, compared with the least deprived; it is 45% higher for Maori compared with the national rate; and, is twice as high for males, compared with females.
New Zealand’s youth suicide rate is the second-worst in the developed world.
‘‘Why New Zealand?
‘‘That’s the $90 million question. I don’t know.’’
But that is no reason to stop trying to prevent suicide.
‘‘I will continue to work in this space as opportunities arise.’’
And Corinda says there is a part for everyone to play.
‘‘You don't need to be a doctor or a counsellor to make a difference.
‘‘Suicide prevention actually happens in the community, and that is why peer support is so powerful.’’
It is all about relationships - making strong connections, supporting and giving hope, she says.
‘‘Nobody wants to lose a loved one to suicide. So it is in our collective best interests to work together and find solutions within our own communities.’’
Need help?
The Depression Helpline: 0800 111-757 or free-text 1737.
Lifeline Aotearoa: 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE) or free text 4357 (HELP).
Youthline: 0800 376 633, free text 234, email talk@youthline.co.nz or online chat at youthline.co.nz.
Suicide Crisis Helpline: 0508 828-865 (0508 TAUTOKO)
Life Matters Suicide Prevention Trust: 027 240 0114
Samaritans: 0800 726 666
Adult Community Mental Health Services, Southern, Health NZ: 0800 443 366
