Before it Happens Again Part II: Feed the Silence-How Radical Compassion—and a Casserole—Might Save a Life
By Cindy Finch, LCSW
PART I: THE PROBLEM HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT
If I had a dime for every time a newscaster linked mass shootings to mental illness—especially in those bland “news-in-review” roundups—I’d be rich. And still grieving.
Because here’s the truth:
Only 4% of people with mental illness ever become violent.
That’s the same as everyone else.
When we blame mental illness for national tragedy, we not only miss the real causes—we deepen the shame and silence that keep people from getting help.
And that silence? It’s costing lives.
PART II: WHAT IF WE TREATED BRAIN ILLNESS LIKE CANCER?
When I had cancer, casseroles poured in. So did cards, text messages, GoFundMe donations, rides to treatment, and regular check-ins.
But after a young woman in my circle died by suicide, I had a gut-punch thought I couldn’t shake:
“I wonder if a casserole could’ve helped her?”
We treat cancer like a crisis.
We treat mental illness like a flaw.
That contrast? It’s killing people.
PART III: WHO WE MISS
Mental illness often looks like:
The teacher crying in her car between classes
The teen who stopped showing up to lunch
The man who jokes a little too often about not being here next year
The friend who keeps canceling
The coworker who suddenly can’t make eye contact
The pastor who never rests
Not dangerous. Just disconnected.
Not dramatic. Just drowning quietly.
And let’s be honest: not everyone gets casseroles.
Black and brown families. LGBTQ+ youth. Rural communities. Veterans. The undocumented. Single parents.People in poverty. People in psychosis. People on Medicaid.
They’re often the last ones to get help—and the first ones blamed when things fall apart.
PART IV: YES, A CASSEROLE COULD HELP
Why? Because practical care is more than polite—it’s neurobiologically powerful.
Human connection regulates the nervous system.
Warmth, eye contact, meals, and emotional safety lower cortisol and inflammation in the brain. They restore dignity and break isolation.
We call it “dropping off soup.”
But it’s actually co-regulation.
And for someone in deep pain, it can be a literal lifeline.
PART V: A MOVEMENT TO FEED THE SILENCE
We don’t need another hashtag.
We need a Compassion Circle.
Let’s build a movement rooted in practical, trauma-informed care for people living with brain illness. Let’s organize help like we organize meal trains.
🥘 The Feed the Silence Starter Kit: 5 Ways to Show Up
Form a Circle.
PTA? Book club? Faith group? Text thread? You’re already halfway there.Identify a Need.
Who’s gone quiet lately? Who’s struggling with grief, addiction, recovery, diagnosis, or depression?Offer Practical Love.
Drop off meals
Send a grocery gift card
Offer rides to therapy
Do the laundry
Visit the hospital
Leave soup at the door
Speak Like a Human.
“I made too much—can I drop some off?”
“You don’t have to be okay to be loved.”
“No pressure. Just care.”
“I’ll check in again next week, too.”
Be Consistent.
Mental illness doesn’t resolve in a weekend. Show up again. And again. Healing lives in repetition.
PART VI: VALIDATION HEALS
As a therapist, here’s what I know:
It’s not the perfect words. It’s presence that heals.
“You matter. You’re not a burden. I’ll walk with you until the light comes back.”
That one sentence—offered sincerely—can do more than ten therapy sessions when someone is lost in the dark.
PART VII: BRING A CASSEROLE. BUILD A SYSTEM.
Casseroles save lives.
But systems save whole communities.
We need:
Fully funded school mental health teams
Expanded mobile crisis units and respite centers
Enforced parity laws so mental health is covered like physical health
Community mental health workers, especially in rural and BIPOC areas
Faith-based mental health literacy programs
Let’s show up at the door—and show up at the ballot box.
PART VIII: IF YOU’RE HESITANT… HERE’S A FAQ
Q: What if I say the wrong thing?
A: That’s okay. Start with “I care about you.” Perfect isn’t required. Presence is.
Q: What if they push me away?
A: Keep gently showing up. Mental illness can distort perception—but consistency breaks through.
Q: What if I need support, too?
A: Then get it. You’re allowed to ask for help even as you give it. It’s not either/or. It’s both/and.
Q: What if it’s awkward?
A: It will be. Love often is. Do it anyway.
PART IX: JOIN THE MOVEMENT
Download our free resource:
Feed the Silence: The Starter Kit
Includes:
Care team template
Easy ways to check in without making it weird
Resources for suicide prevention + low-cost therapy
Printable checklist for churches, families, and support groups
Want to bring this message to your school, team, or congregation?
We offer trauma-informed workshops, keynotes, and training.
📩 Contact: cindy@yourepiccomeback.org
FOR CLINICIANS
This work is rooted in:
DBT’s use of validation as intervention
Polyvagal Theory’s emphasis on co-regulation
Community-based healing models from peer support, ACT teams, and Clubhouse International
If you’re a clinician, you can train others in this model—or use it to bolster recovery between sessions.
If a casserole can save a life, pass the damn tater tots.
Mental illness is not a character flaw.
It’s not a weakness.
It’s not shameful.
It’s illness. And illness deserves care.
Let’s flood the silence with so much care, truth, and casseroles that isolation has nowhere left to hide.
Let’s Feed the Silence. Before it feeds on someone we love.
— Cindy Finch, LCSW
