Brandon Toh lived with mental health challenges for much of his life. He survived his first suicide attempt in his early 20s while studying at UC Berkeley. His family hoped what he was going through was temporary. But it wasn’t.
What followed was a long and courageous journey of survival, self-discovery, and service. After his attempt, Brandon was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and stepped back from school to recover. He continued to face challenges with his mental health over the years, including additional suicide attempts. Yet in between, there were long stretches of stability—times when his creativity, compassion, and sense of purpose came through.
During this time, he earned a certificate in music, graduated from UC Berkeley, and later pursued a master’s degree to become a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist.
Along the way, he found purpose in helping others. He started by volunteering on a crisis line in the Bay Area. After moving back to Southern California following graduation, he continued that work at the Didi Hirsch Suicide Prevention Center (SPC), where he became a shift supervisor and served for more than ten years.
“He was able to redirect a lot of what he was experiencing through his work,” his family said. “He turned his challenges into help for others.”
At the Suicide Prevention Center, Brandon was a driving force for change and an early example of the value of lived experience. He helped shape protocols still in use today—writing the training manual, training counselors, improving risk assessments, and building follow-up practices rooted in trust and care. He worked overnight shifts for years, showing up when others needed it most.
Even with strong support, managing mental health takes ongoing care and attention. During stressful or busy times, it’s easy to lose sight of our own needs. In 2012, after years of living with bipolar disorder, Brandon died by suicide. He was 37.
After his death, his family searched for ways to move through their grief. Each found their own path to honor his life and legacy.
His father, John, arranges significant financial gifts and donations to organizations that reflect Brandon’s interests and values, including Didi Hirsch, where the wellness lounge at the Suicide Prevention Center will bear his name.
His mother, Jean, co-facilitated grief support groups for survivors of suicide loss at Didi Hirsch and is an active advocate for openness in mental health. “When he made his first attempt, I didn’t tell anybody,” she said. “But he taught me that silence only diminishes the people we love.”
And his sister, Shauna, now works at the 988 Lifeline—helping others find their way through the darkness he knew so well.
They carry on his legacy—not only through advocacy, but by remembering his full life and the impact he made. Out of their grief came purpose. What once felt unspeakable, they are now outspoken about. Brandon helped them understand that silence only deepens the stigma.
That is a lesson they have learned and would like others to remember: “If you love someone with a mental health disorder, don’t give up. Never give up. You can’t fix it, but you can be there for them.”
