Skip to content
Forward: Before We Begin
Sometimes I think that the purpose of life is to leave our mark on the world, if only in the hearts of others. Sharing stories does that. It whispers that we exist, that our lives
A Letter To You
"Sometimes I think that the purpose of life is to leave our mark on the world, if only in the hearts of others. Sharing stories does that. It whispers that we exist, that our lives matter."
… Kane Dodgson
There are few truths as profound as this one: our stories matter. Not as anecdotes or fleeting memories — but as the very core of everything we were, are, and everything we become. They are the footprints we leave on our journey through the world and in the hearts of those we meet.
There was a long, echoing time when I couldn't understand how the world could wound someone so deeply—a time when I felt completely broken inside. My story felt empty then — no joy, no purpose, no meaning, no hope. The worst part was losing the will to be part of life.
It is a terrifying place, like being trapped in a cruel echo of Bill Murray's — forever replaying the same disheartening scenes, rendered utterly impotent against the forces of cause and effect. Nothing you do appears to make the blindest bit of difference. You feel like a ghost in the world — a mere spectator to your own life unravelling, rather than an active participant in your own story. The only thing that ever seems to change is the compounding, intensifying despair. This ocean of feeling, I assure you, is deeper than loneliness. It is profounder, more engulfing, more consuming than grief itself.
Yet not everyone succumbs. Many people do come out the other side. And those who emerge from the very edge of suicidal thoughts often carry in their very stance the weight of epic struggles and the quiet dignity of heroic journeys. They should hold their heads high — with the unwavering pride of a lion. Because of this, make no mistake, it is the hardest hero's journey a soul can ever make.
Yet like the seasons that turn, there is hope.
Far more people survive this place than those who tragically end their lives. Many learn not only to live with those thoughts, but to live through them — and astonishingly, even to live past them. So why do we not hear more about these battle-hardened people? Why are their stories of post-traumatic growth not amplified? Why is their hard-won wisdom not shared — straight from their own mouths, in their own words, not filtered through the interpretations of professionals, organisations or researchers?
I want to introduce you to two stories that, when brought together, create something the mental health world urgently needs. There is the story of the great fall — the descent into crisis. A story that most mental health research, most systems, and most charities focus on. And often, they do it well. But there is another story, equally crucial, that we are not nearly curious enough about. The story of the great climb — how a person, against all odds, gets back up. What worked. What helped. What help did they find?
When these two stories come together, they create a third, truer, more balanced view. One that contains its own solutions.
What follows is a story. A story about stories. About why they matter more than we currently allow them to, and what happens when we finally give them the space they deserve. It is also a deeply personal document. I am a Churchill Fellow, an artist, a writer, a therapist, a community organiser, a stroke survivor, and a suicide survivor. I grew up in Blackpool. I have lost people I loved to suicide. I have been to the edge myself.
I went to America because I believed that the answers to one of our most urgent public health crises were hiding in plain sight — in the stories of the people who had survived it.
This report is what I found. My voice is my own — reflective, curious, sometimes raw, and I hope above all else, authentically northern British.
You may find this not to be a traditional report.
I want to be honest with you about that from the start.
Kane Dodgson
A Letter Of Gratitude
To Victoria, a safe harbour in a storm; to Kaysha, your life gave mine meaning; to Gavin for being a genuine and kind friend; to my family and friends for the countless supports; to Luna Moon and Little Tinks, two beautiful soul dogs who were my catalyst for getting up off the floor and starting again. Rest in peace. Thank you to Little Izzy for the unconditional love and joy you bestow on me here and now, every minute of the day. To my parents and with a heavy mixture of both sorrow and love to those I have lost. To Uncle Nev, whose story ended before mine.
My gratitude goes out to the Churchill Fellowship for creating opportunities for people like me who come from different walks of life. To Samaritans UK for what I feel is the most important community service, for being there in my past story without any agenda, and for being a sponsor in my Fellowship. I also honour Maff Potts of The Association of Camerados and Linda Vernon of Lancashire & South Cumbria NHS. Both have played important roles in helping me to be here right now with this story.
A deep and meaningful thank you to Emily for your support, encouragement and belief in what I was doing in 2019, which set the ball in motion. Without crossing paths with you, none of what has unfolded would have been possible. With too many to mention, I save the last to pay my respect to all those I shared coffee and stories with while on my travels in the USA, from Philadelphia Mural Arts to The Strangers Project in New York City and everyone in between.
The Churchill Fellowship
This report was made possible by the Churchill Fellowship — one of the UK's most prestigious and genuinely democratic awards. enables people from all parts of UK society to learn from the world's best ideas and innovations, then bring that knowledge home to drive positive change. It was founded on 1 February 1965, the day after Winston Churchill's funeral, as a living memorial to his belief in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things.
Around 150 Fellowships are awarded each year. Selection is based on the applicant's potential and the strength of their idea — not their academic qualifications or professional status. Fellows come from every walk of life — nurses, teachers, community leaders, scientists and many others — all united by a shared determination to improve lives.
About The Author
I'm an artist, writer, therapist, community organiser, and I live in Blackpool — a seaside town, with some of the highest rates of suicide, stroke and mental ill-health in the country — and I've spent my adult life turning personal pain into purposeful work.
I'm a suicide survivor and a stroke survivor. I have lost friends and loved ones to the tragedy of suicide. I qualified as a therapist in 2003 and have worked in community mental health and grassroots peer support ever since, including a landmark 2019 project in which 127 men in Lancashire shared their survival stories with me.
In 2023, I was awarded a Churchill Fellowship — one of the UK's most prestigious research awards — to travel to America and investigate the role of storytelling in suicide prevention. What I found in Philadelphia, Ithaca, and New York City became this report. This report took a long time to write. This may be my only chance to have my voice heard — and I wanted to sculpt that voice carefully, to get the story right before sharing it with the world. In that way, this report is not just about storytelling. ~ It is an example of it.
Kane lives in Blackpool with his partner Victoria and their Italian Greyhound, Little Izzy.
Kane Dodgson
Churchill Fellow 2023
Blackpool, UK
Copyright © 2026 Kane Dodgson. The moral right of the author has been asserted. The views and opinions expressed in this report are those of the author and not of the Churchill Fellowship or its partners.
Want to print your doc?
This is not the way.
This is not the way.
Try clicking the ··· in the right corner or using a keyboard shortcut (
CtrlP
) instead.