Shattered and grief-stricken, Pippa Beveridge is speaking out in the hope she can save even one family from the devastation of losing their teenage child to suicide.
The Perth mother is telling anyone who will listen - from high school students to the State Coroner - what it feels like to have lost her much-loved 16-year-old daughter Abbey.
In particular, she hopes it will make teenagers see beyond the social media cliches and understand the permanent damage it has done to her family.
Abbey Young, a former Kalamunda Senior High School student, took her own life on August 31. The distressing circumstances haunt her mother, who found her and tried to revive her until ambulance officers arrived and, despite their best efforts, could not save her.
Now Ms Beveridge wants to lay bare her loss. It is the only way she can see anything positive coming from the day her world changed.
She offers no platitudes about Abbey being carried off by angels or finally resting in peace.
"I don't want to give a sanitised version of what happened to my beautiful girl or what it's like to be left behind," she says.
"Every morning I wake and for a split second I think she's alive and then it rips me apart."
It is a confronting message to teenagers who take to Facebook to share their pain and sometimes make light of self-harming behaviour. "I want to tell them there is nothing romantic about suicide, and in my head Abbey's not flying with the angels," she says.
"I've seen it firsthand and it's ugly.
"I'm in so much pain, and her family and friends are in so much pain, and I just don't think when teenagers take their life they realise what it will do to those they love the most and that we will never get over it."
Ms Beveridge does not want to blame anyone who treated Abbey because her daughter was helped by some very caring people, but she believes the mental health system was lacking when Abbey desperately tried to get help for depression and self-harming.
Abbey was in and out of Princess Margaret Hospital and ended up in Bentley Adolescent Clinic during the last year of her life, sometimes discharged without being seen by a psychiatrist or seen only at her mother's insistence.
"When you take your self-harming and distraught 15-year-old daughter into PMH, there are parents of children with broken legs, and once a nurse told me my daughter was upsetting all the sick babies," she says.
"I could understand it wasn't the place for Abbey to be but it was very distressing because she's my baby and she still needed help."
Ms Beveridge says a lack of co-ordination in the public health system means that once a crisis passes, teenagers are sent home to their ill-equipped families, armed with a list of phone numbers but little access to long-term intervention.
She says the public and private mental health systems are not geared for the long-term care of very distressed teenagers.
In a confronting letter to the State Coroner, Ms Beveridge says that though WA has come a long way in caring for children with physical illness, more needs to be done for those with mental illness.
"Where is the long-term treatment unit for adolescents in Perth," she asks.
"The answer can't change anything for Abbey, however there are many other families. Will they get the same answer?"
Ms Beveridge writes notes at 2am when she cannot sleep. She says they are ugly to read but they help.
"I know I look perfectly normal to people in everyday life but inside I am ripped apart," she says.
"I want to scream at people, 'Look, there is a war going on right here and you're all out Christmas shopping'."
A line in the note Abbey left behind - urging her mother to "have a good life for me" - still plays on her mind.
If she could talk to her daughter, Ms Beveridge would simply ask - how?
The grieving mother takes comfort sitting in Abbey's bedroom surrounded by the notes, artwork and soft toys her daughter lovingly made for her, including the picture called Lost in the Dark of a young girl without a face.
And while she could be excused for wanting to mourn in private, as a mother she wants to speak out to prevent further tragedy and even offer hope to others.
Despite Abbey losing her struggle, Ms Beveridge wants mental health services to learn from her family's experiences and for other young people not to give up.
She told 200 teenagers and their parents at Abbey's funeral what it was like to spend half an hour furiously administering CPR to Abbey in the vain hope of getting her back.
Some parents later spoke of the profound effect of her honest account, which triggered the most open conversations they had ever had with their children. "I didn't want to sensationalise suicide for voyeurs - I wanted to tell these kids how horrible it is for survivors," Ms Beveridge said.
After the funeral, she handed out a note urging her daughter's friends to talk to someone, a professional, family or friend, if they were struggling with their feelings. She gave them her mobile phone number and offered to reply to their messages on Facebook.
"Please don't turn Abbey's death into a sort of morbid glory," she said in the note. "Remember it was a massive mistake that has cost her a future and cost us so much suffering.
"Get on with your lives. I am going to try to get on with mine."
If you or someone you know needs help, contact Lifeline on 131 114.