Welcome to the MB4MH Blog

Sharing stories, sparking hope, and driving change for mental health in Australia.

Lived Experience Stories

I never imagined I’d be writing this — not as a blog, not as a mission statement, and definitely not as the start of a mental health reform movement.
But here I am. And here is why.

In 2022, I lost my 24-year-old son, Kiah, to suicide.
He was more than his struggles. He was bright, funny, creative, and deeply loved. He called me to say he wasn’t okay. He did what we ask people in crisis to do — he reached out.

The police responded and called the ambulance.
But instead of sending help, the ambulance service assessed him over the phone and decided not to attend.
Over two hours later, they went to the house — and left again without searching for him.
Many more hours passed before police finally followed up.
By then, Kiah was gone.

And I was left with silence. Shock. And unimaginable loss.

The Journey Before the Grief

Years before that night, I made the difficult decision to move to Queensland — not for work, not for lifestyle, but to escape domestic violence.

It was a move of survival — for myself, and my children. However Kiah chose to remain in South Australia.
But trauma doesn’t stop at the border.
The impact of what we fled left deep marks on both of us, especially Kiah, who carried that pain into his adolescence and early adulthood.

He was a survivor long before he was ever seen as someone in crisis.
And still, when he finally reached out for help, the systems weren’t there for him.

What I Did With My Grief

While I couldn’t breathe life back into my son, I refused to let his death go unnoticed.
My mother and daughter began sewing fidget mats — soft, sensory tools for calming hands and anxious minds — and giving them away to anyone who needed comfort.
It was a quiet act of healing that reached far beyond our home.

And I? I poured my pain into purpose.
I committed to finishing the degree I had started — in criminology and psychology — because I needed to finish something. I needed knowledge. I needed a voice.
Not just as a grieving mother, but as someone who could advocate with lived experience and education.

From this space of pain and passion, Monkey Boy for Mental Health (MB4MH) was born.

Why I Speak, Why I Share

Because Kiah called for help, and help never came.
Because if no one speaks, nothing changes.
Because grief doesn’t disappear — but it can become a force for good.
Because I made a promise to my son: his life, and his death, would not be forgotten.

Now, through MB4MH, we:

  • Share stories to break stigma

  • Provide free fidget mats to bring peace in small ways

  • Campaign for reform through Kiah’s Rule — a bill demanding real, in-person mental health crisis responses

  • Offer merchandise, workshops, and advocacy that fund our mission and amplify our message

If you’ve ever lost someone… if you’ve ever had to rebuild your life from trauma… if you’ve ever been told you weren’t “serious enough” to be helped… I see you.

This story isn’t easy to tell. But it’s necessary.
Because Kiah should still be here. And we must make sure the next person is.

💛 His name is Kiah.
His story is now a movement.

Mental Health Crisis Response Reform

When someone calls for help during a mental health crisis, they deserve more than a phone call — they deserve a person who shows up.

But too often in Australia, crisis calls are triaged over the phone and dismissed as “not urgent” — even when police or family have flagged serious risk. That’s what happened to my son, Kiah. He was calling for help. Police responded. They referred his case to the ambulance service. But no one came — not until it was too late.

This wasn’t a one-off mistake. It’s a pattern — and it’s killing people.

That’s why I’ve created Kiah’s Rule: a national reform proposal that would ensure:

  • ✅ Mandatory in-person responses for high-risk mental health crises

  • ✅ A ban on phone-only triage in critical cases

  • ✅ Follow-up action when someone can’t be found

  • ✅ Accountability for services that fail to act when lives are on the line

We don’t treat heart attacks with a phone call.
We shouldn’t treat suicidal crisis that way either.

Kiah’s Rule is about more than one boy. It’s about all the lives we could still save — if someone just shows up

Reducing Stigma

Let’s be real — mental health isn’t always clean, clinical, or comfortable. Sometimes it’s chaotic. Sometimes it’s loud. And sometimes... it looks like a monkey with a mind full of feelings.

That’s exactly why MB4MH exists.

We started this movement to honour Kiah — but also to challenge the silence that surrounds mental illness. Because stigma kills. It stops people from asking for help. It makes them feel like they’re the problem, instead of someone trying to survive a problem.

And it’s still everywhere — in families, in services, in the way we talk (or don’t talk) about “not coping.”

 So how do we reduce stigma?

  • We talk about mental health like we talk about physical health — normally, openly, and without shame.

  • We wear it proudly — on shirts, caps, and even fidget mats, because visibility matters.

  • We share stories — not for sympathy, but for solidarity.

  • And sometimes, we laugh — because laughter breaks the tension and reminds people they’re not alone in the madness.

Every time you tell someone you’re not okay…
Every time you explain why a Monkey Boy fidget mat helps…
Every time you challenge someone’s assumptions…

You chip away at stigma — and build something stronger in its place: understanding.

So keep talking. Keep showing up. Keep being real.
Because the more we say it out loud, the less anyone has to suffer in silence

Mindfulness and Coping Tools

Let’s be honest — mindfulness doesn’t always look like sitting cross-legged in a silent room with perfect breathing.
Sometimes it looks like fiddling with a zipper.
Or rubbing a button sewn into a corner of a fidget mat.
Or just not falling apart for five minutes — and that’s enough.

At MB4MH, we believe that mindfulness is about presence, not perfection.

It’s about finding small ways to slow down, ground yourself, and reconnect with the now — especially when your mind is swinging from one anxious thought to the next like a Monkey Boy in the jungle.

 A Few Monkey Boy–Approved Coping Tools:

  • Fidget Mats: Not just for kids or dementia care — they’re for anyone who needs something to do with their hands while their thoughts settle.

  • 5-4-3-2-1 Technique: Name 5 things you can see, 4 you can touch, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, 1 you can taste. It brings your brain back to here.

  • Breath In, Box Out: Inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4 — repeat as needed. It slows racing thoughts.

  • Movement: Walk, sway, stretch — remind your body it’s safe, even if your brain is loud.

  • Self-talk: Say this aloud: “This is hard. But I’m here. And I’m doing what I can.”

Mindfulness doesn’t mean pretending everything’s fine.
It means making space to feel, without letting those feelings take over completely.

It’s one moment at a time.
One breath. One fidget. One monkey at a time.

Community Spotlights

Coming soon

Grief, Loss, and Healing

Grief, Loss & Healing: Carrying Kiah, and Still Moving Forward

There is no tidy way to speak about grief.
It doesn’t follow stages. It doesn’t follow rules.
It follows you.

Since losing my son Kiah, every day has been a step into a world I never wanted — a world where I have to keep going without him, but for him.

Grief is not something you “get through.”
It becomes part of you.
But so can healing.

What No One Tells You About Grief:

  • You can cry while smiling.

  • You can laugh in one breath and feel shattered in the next.

  • You can be strong in public and fall apart in the shower.

  • You can build something beautiful out of something unbearable.

I started MB4MH because I couldn’t sit still in the silence.
I needed Kiah’s life — and death — to mean something.
And in doing so, I found that healing doesn’t mean forgetting.
It means remembering louder.
With purpose. With people. With reform.

Healing Isn’t Linear — It’s Layered.

If you’re grieving — a person, a moment, a version of life you thought you’d have — please know this:
There is no wrong way to mourn.
There is no time limit.
And there is no shame in still not being okay.

But there is also this:
You can hurt and hope.
You can break and build.
You can honour what you’ve lost by creating what you wish had existed.

That’s what MB4MH is to me.

Australians for Mental Health

What Australians for Mental Health Do:

  • Drive legislative reform:
    Campaigning to make mental health a genuine priority at every level of government — not just a promise, but written into law.

  • Fight for funding:
    Pushing for consistent, long-term investment into mental health services, prevention programs, and crisis response teams.

  • Amplify lived experience voices:
    Working with people who have lived through the system (or been failed by it) to shape better policies and practices.

  • Raise public awareness:
    Running national campaigns, petitions, and actions that spotlight the gaps — and pressure leaders to close them.

  • Push for real accountability:
    Demanding that government plans and mental health policies are transparent, reviewed, and actually implemented — not just promised.

Why It Matters

Mental illness affects 1 in 5 Australians every year — but only a fraction receive timely, effective care.
Australians for Mental Health is fighting to fix a broken system that costs lives and leaves families like mine — and countless others — picking up the pieces.

They are working to build a future where mental health is treated as seriously as physical health, and no one is left to struggle in silence.

Learn More or Get Involved

Visit: www.australiansformentalhealth.org.au

Join the MB4MH Movement

Share your story, sign the Kiah's Rule petition, or support our mission to create a better future for mental health in Australia.