Find Something Purple Mental Health and Suicide Prevention in Georgia

Founded in 2022, Find Something Purple was created in memory of Julian’s twin brother, Joey Andrews, his uncle, Tony Alverson, his younger brother, Isaac Andrews, and his cousin, Danielle Andrews. Each of them fought the fight of mental health. Their names are not a footnote to the work. They are the reason the work exists.

At its heart, Find Something Purple is about mental health awareness, suicide prevention, first responder support, and community care across Georgia. It’s about talking openly before pain turns into silence. It’s about making sure people know they’re not weak, broken, or alone. And it’s about giving families, friends, coworkers, and neighbors a way to show up for each other in real life.

This is informational only and not a replacement for medical or mental health care. If someone is in immediate danger, call 911. If someone is thinking about suicide or needs urgent emotional support, call or text 988 in the United States to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

What Find Something Purple means

The name “Find Something Purple” carries a simple but powerful idea. When life feels dark, heavy, or impossible to explain, people need something to hold onto. Something visible. Something hopeful. Something that reminds them to pause and keep going. The phrase originates from a late night phone conversation with Joey Andrews and his mom during one of Joey's battles with his mental health. Joey advised that he had tried all his normal tricks to attempt to feel better and they failed, his mom told him to go outside and find something purple. A simple statement turned Into a movement.

Purple has long been connected to suicide prevention and mental health awareness. For Find Something Purple, it becomes more than a color. It becomes a sign.

It can mean:

• A reminder that someone cares

• A way to start a hard conversation

• A symbol of remembrance

• A sign of support for people fighting quietly

• A small point of hope on a bad day

  
  

That kind of symbol matters because mental health struggles often happen behind closed doors. People learn how to smile through panic. They answer “I’m fine” when they’re not. They keep working, parenting, responding to calls, going to school, and showing up for others while carrying pain no one can see.

Find Something Purple pushes back against that silence.

The message is not complicated. Look for hope. Be hope. Help someone else find it.

That can happen at a community event. It can happen through a wristband, shirt, sign, conversation, fundraiser, or memorial walk. It can also happen in the quietest way possible, like checking on a friend who has pulled away.

Why this work matters in Georgia communities

Mental health is not limited to one city, county, job, age group, or family type. It reaches rural towns, suburbs, college campuses, fire stations, police departments, churches, schools, and homes across Georgia.

The challenge is that many people still don’t know where to turn. Others are afraid of being judged. Some worry they’ll be treated differently at work. Some don’t want to burden their family. And some have spent so long being “the strong one” that asking for help feels nearly impossible.

That’s where community awareness makes a real difference.

When a group like Find Something Purple talks openly about mental health and suicide prevention in Georgia, it helps make these conversations less hidden. It gives people language. It gives families permission to ask direct questions. It helps coworkers notice warning signs. It encourages friends to do more than say, “Let me know if you need anything.”

A better version sounds like:

• “I’ve noticed you haven’t seemed like yourself. Want to sit with me for a bit?”

• “You don’t have to explain everything. I’m here.”

• “Are you thinking about hurting yourself?”

• “Can I help you call 988 or find someone to talk to?”

• “I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

  
  

That directness can feel scary, but it can also save a life. Asking someone if they’re thinking about suicide does not plant the idea. It gives them a chance to tell the truth.

In Georgia, as in every state, suicide prevention takes more than crisis lines. Crisis support matters, but prevention starts earlier. It starts when people feel safe enough to talk before things reach a breaking point.

That means building communities where people can say:

“I’m overwhelmed.”

“I’m not okay.”

“I need help.”

“I don’t know how to keep doing this.”

And instead of being met with shame, they’re met with care.

Supporting first responders who carry more than most people see

First responders are often the people everyone calls when things fall apart. Firefighters, EMTs, paramedics, law enforcement officers, and dispatchers see or hear

people on the worst days of their lives.

Then, after the call ends, they’re expected to keep going.

That kind of repeated stress can leave a mark. First responders may deal with trauma exposure, sleep disruption, physical danger, grief, guilt, burnout, and pressure to stay calm at all times. Some carry memories they never talk about. Some replay calls in their heads. Some struggle with anger, numbness, isolation, anxiety, depression, substance use, or thoughts of suicide.

And still, many hesitate to ask for help.

Why? Because the culture around first responder work has often rewarded toughness and silence. A person may fear being seen as unreliable. They may worry about losing trust, status, or even their job. They may tell themselves others have it worse. They may believe they should be able to handle it.

But being affected by trauma is not a character flaw. It’s a human response.

Find Something Purple’s focus on first responder mental health matters because these workers need support that respects their reality. A generic “take care of yourself” message is not enough. First responders need communities, leaders, peers, and families that are willing to talk honestly about mental health without treating it like weakness.

Support can look like:

• Peer support programs that connect responders with people who understand the job

• Access to counselors familiar with trauma and emergency service culture

• Time and space after difficult calls

• Training that includes mental health warning signs

• Family education, so loved ones know what to watch for

• Department cultures where asking for help does not lead to shame

  
  

Families of first responders also need care. They often see the mood changes, exhaustion, nightmares, withdrawal, or irritability long before anyone else does. They may not know what to say. They may feel shut out. Community resources can help them understand that they don’t have to fix everything. They just need to stay connected, encourage help, and take warning signs seriously.

A first responder can be brave and still need support. Both can be true.

Suicide prevention starts with honest conversations

Suicide prevention can sound like a big, formal phrase. In real life, it often begins with one person noticing another person’s pain.

People at risk may not always say, “I’m thinking about suicide.” Sometimes they do, and every mention should be taken seriously. Other times the signs are more subtle.

Warning signs can include:

• Talking about feeling hopeless, trapped, or like a burden

• Pulling away from friends, family, or usual activities

• Giving away belongings

• Increased use of alcohol or drugs

• Sudden calm after a period of deep distress

• Sleeping much more or much less

• Reckless behavior

• Rage, anxiety, or major mood swings

• Saying goodbye in a way that feels final

• Searching for ways to die or talking about death often

  
  

If these signs show up, it’s better to ask than to guess.

A lot of people worry they’ll say the wrong thing. The truth is, presence matters more than perfect words. A calm, direct question can open the door:

“Are you thinking about suicide?”

If the answer is yes, stay with them if you can. Remove or reduce access to anything they could use to harm themselves, when it’s safe to do so. Call or text 988 together. If danger is immediate, call 911.

Try not to argue, lecture, shame, or rush into fixing everything. Pain doesn’t lift because someone says, “But you have so much to live for.” A better response is, “I’m really glad you told me. We’re going to get through the next few minutes together.”

That’s the goal at first. Not forever. Not the whole future. Just the next few minutes, then the next hour, then the next safe step.

Find Something Purple helps bring that kind of awareness into the open. The more people hear these conversations, the less strange they feel. The less strange they feel, the more likely someone is to speak before it’s too late.

Turning remembrance into community action

Grief can isolate people. It can make the world feel smaller. But when grief becomes service, it can create connection.

Find Something Purple is rooted in remembrance. Joey Andrews, Tony Alverson, Isaac Andrews, and Danielle Andrews are part of the reason this work keeps moving. Saying their names matters. Honoring their lives matters. Letting their stories help other people feel less alone matters.

Community work can take many forms, and each one plays a role.

Awareness events help people learn signs and resources. Fundraisers can support outreach, training, or local partnerships. Memorial gatherings give families a place to grieve without hiding. Purple shirts, ribbons, bracelets, or lights can start conversations that would not happen otherwise. School and church outreach can reach people who may never search for help online. First responder events can bring support directly to the people who spend their lives answering calls for others.

The work is not only about crisis. It’s about culture.

A healthier community is one where checking in doesn’t feel awkward. Where people know 988 exists. Where parents talk with teens about mental health without panic or shame. Where first responders can admit when a call stays with them. Where churches, schools, workplaces, and local groups know how to guide someone toward help. Where loss is met with compassion instead of whispers.

That kind of change is slow, but it’s real.

It happens when someone wears purple and tells the story behind it.

It happens when a friend follows up after a hard conversation.

It happens when a family learns that mental illness is not a moral failure.

It happens when someone who felt invisible realizes they’ve been seen.

How to support the mission in everyday life

Not everyone knows how to get involved in mental health work. The good news is, support doesn’t have to be complicated.

You can start small.

Check on people who have gone quiet. Learn the warning signs of suicide. Save 988 in your phone. Share mental health resources without waiting for a tragedy. Support local Georgia events focused on awareness and prevention. Talk about therapy, grief, depression, anxiety, trauma, and recovery like normal human experiences, because they are.

If there’s a first responder in your life, ask better questions. Instead of “Was work bad?” try “Is there anything from this week that’s been hard to shake?” Give them room to answer honestly. Don’t force details. Don’t treat silence as rejection. Just keep the door open.

If someone has lost a loved one to suicide or mental health struggles, keep showing up after the funeral. Grief does not end when everyone else goes back to regular life. Say the person’s name. Share a memory. Drop off food. Send a message on hard dates. Ask what kind of support feels helpful.

And if you’re the one struggling, you don’t have to earn help by reaching a certain level of pain. You can ask now. You can text someone now. You can call 988 now. You can tell one safe person, “I’m not okay, and I need you to stay with me.”

That is not weakness. That is a step toward staying alive.

The takeaway

Find Something Purple is a Georgia-based mental health and suicide prevention mission built from love, grief, and the need for honest conversation. It honors Joey Andrews, Tony Alverson, Isaac Andrews, and Danielle Andrews by helping others find support before silence wins.

The work matters because people are hurting in ways we don’t always see. First responders are carrying calls home with them. Families are trying to understand loss. Friends are wondering what to say. Communities are learning how to talk about suicide without fear.

So find something purple.

Wear it. Share it. Ask about it. Let it remind you to check on someone. Let it remind you to answer honestly when someone checks on you.

And if today is heavy, let it be a small sign that you’re still here, and that help can start with one conversation.