HER FAMILY NEVER IMAGINED THEY WOULD BE SAYING GOODBYE AT JUST 12..! – ALISHA RUSH’S HEARTBROKEN GRANDMOTHER SPEAKS OUT ABOUT HER FINAL MONTHS AS AUSTRALIA CONFRONTS ITS YOUTH MENTAL HEALTH CRISIS.
Australia’s mental health crisis: Family of Alisha Rush, 12, reveal final months before tragic suicide
Australia is reeling after 12-year-old Alisha Rush took her own life last month. Now, her shattered grandmother has something we all need to hear.
EXCLUSIVE
WARNING: This article discusses mental health and suicide.
When 12-year-old Alisha Rush took her own life late last month, it plunged the nation into mourning and left her family and community struggling to comprehend how a little girl could reach such a devastating point.
Now, in an exclusive sit-down interview with news.com.au, her grandmother Lana Simpson, who Alisha was living with before she died, has opened up about the final months of Alisha’s life – including the moments of joy, the warning signs and the devastating tragedy that preceded her death.
Need to talk to someone?
Don’t go it alone. Please reach out for help.
Lifeline: 13 11 14 or lifeline.org.au
Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 or beyondblue.org.au
Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800 or kidshelpline.com.au
Headspace: 1800 650 890 or headspace.org.au
13YARN: Speak to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander crisis supporter on 13 92 76 or visit 13yarn.org.au
Are you anxious? Take the Beyond Blue quiz to see how you’re tracking and whether you could benefit from support
Inside the Morisset home where Alisha spent her final weeks, evidence of the outpouring of grief that followed her death is everywhere.
Wilting flowers sit alongside stacks of sympathy cards, so many that Mrs Simpson doesn’t know where to put them.
Alisha Rush was just 12 years old when she died by suicide late last month. Picture: Supplied
There are reminders of the 12-year-old everywhere, too.
The Dino nuggets she loved, dozens of pictures, and the cheeky Kelpie named Rebel that she adored.
Mrs Simpson laughed as she described an average night in the family home as “bedlam”.
EXCLUSIVE
WARNING: This article discusses mental health and suicide.
When 12-year-old Alisha Rush took her own life late last month, it plunged the nation into mourning and left her family and community struggling to comprehend how a little girl could reach such a devastating point.
Now, in an exclusive sit-down interview with news.com.au, her grandmother Lana Simpson, who Alisha was living with before she died, has opened up about the final months of Alisha’s life – including the moments of joy, the warning signs and the devastating tragedy that preceded her death.
Need to talk to someone?
Don’t go it alone. Please reach out for help.
Lifeline: 13 11 14 or lifeline.org.au
Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 or beyondblue.org.au
Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800 or kidshelpline.com.au
Headspace: 1800 650 890 or headspace.org.au
13YARN: Speak to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander crisis supporter on 13 92 76 or visit 13yarn.org.au
Are you anxious? Take the Beyond Blue quiz to see how you’re tracking and whether you could benefit from support
Inside the Morisset home where Alisha spent her final weeks, evidence of the outpouring of grief that followed her death is everywhere.
Wilting flowers sit alongside stacks of sympathy cards, so many that Mrs Simpson doesn’t know where to put them.
Alisha Rush was just 12 years old when she died by suicide late last month. Picture: Supplied
There are reminders of the 12-year-old everywhere, too.
The Dino nuggets she loved, dozens of pictures, and the cheeky Kelpie named Rebel that she adored.
Mrs Simpson laughed as she described an average night in the family home as “bedlam”.
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“Alisha didn’t sleep and would go and crawl into the bed of our other night owl (Alisha’s cousin Breannah, 17) and they’d be laughing and carrying on all night.”
The pair were often heard giggling as they rustled around the kitchen for late-night cheese toastie supplies.
“Breannah misses her dearly, we all do,” Mrs Simpson said.
Need to talk to someone?
Don’t go it alone. Please reach out for help.
Lifeline: 13 11 14 or lifeline.org.au
Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 or beyondblue.org.au
Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800 or kidshelpline.com.au
Headspace: 1800 650 890 or headspace.org.au
13YARN: Speak to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander crisis supporter on 13 92 76 or visit 13yarn.org.au
Are you anxious? Take the Beyond Blue quiz to see how you’re tracking and whether you could benefit from support
Family plagued by suicide
Alisha’s father Kurt was 37 when he took his own life, unaware that just 13 months later, he would be joined by his firstborn child.
“We have a family that has lots of mental health (issues) and we have had multiple cases of suicide in our family,” Mrs Simpson said.
“My youngest brother died by suicide 25 years ago, my grandmother died by suicide, along with several other family members.”
Her eyes light up as she recalls Kurt’s chaotic childhood, one full of school truancy, but also pranks and amusement.
“I’d drop him at the front gate of the school, take him into the office and then they’d ring me and say, ‘Kurt’s gone over the back fence’,” she laughed.
Alisha loved dino nuggets, cheese toasties, staying up late and her piercings. Picture: Supplied
Kurt went on to become a scaffolder who had “a big heart” and lit up every room he walked into.
The last time Mrs Simpson saw her son was in her car’s rearview mirror as he entered the grips of what she believes was a psychotic break.
“I remember driving away and he was standing on the footpath and I looked in the mirror… That was the last time I saw him,” she said.
Kurt was sectioned by police and taken to the hospital, where he was reportedly seen by mental health staff, a claim Mrs Simpson is wary of accepting.
“It said on his discharge summary that he was of no harm to himself,” she said.
“Not one person from that mental health department followed up during the next week to check on him. They just let him go and told him to follow up with a counsellor.
“He took his life six days later.”
A safe space to call home
Mrs Simpson sinks into the large sofa as she recalls the nights following Kurt’s death. Her glassy eyes move between me and photos of her son that line the television cabinet.
Alisha had moved to her grandmother’s home in the NSW Hunter region on New Year’s Eve 2025, after spending years bouncing across Sydney and the Central Coast with her mother and father at times.
Alisha’s father Kurt (pictured) died by suicide last June, a death that rocked the entire family. Picture: Supplied
Mrs Simpson imagines the pair are dancing together upstairs. Picture: Supplied
The 12-year-old was born in Gosford and had three siblings, the youngest being just three years old.
“Alisha would come crawling into my bed to have a cuddle. She’d want her back scratched and we’d talk about her dad,” Mrs Simpson said.
“I would tell her, ‘Your father wasn’t perfect, he was far from perfect. But the one thing he did in this world was be very proud of you kids. He loved you kids and don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. It was not your fault, baby. It had nothing to do with you’.
“He had issues with depression, he had issues with drugs and he had issues in his relationships that he just couldn’t see his way out of.
“I think at times she actually believed it was her fault,” she said.
The day that changed their lives forever
Alisha was admitted to John Hunter Hospital by Mrs Simpson, who was gravely concerned for her granddaughter’s health, on a Monday morning.
Hours later, after being taken into the emergency department where she was conscious and responding to doctors, Alisha was placed into an induced coma and taken to the ICU. She would tragically never wake up.
Mrs Simpson teared up as she recounted her final words to her “beautiful” granddaughter.
“I said ‘I love you’, and then I swore at Kurt and told him he couldn’t have her, that it wasn’t her time yet.”
At 4am on Tuesday, Mrs Simpson and another family member were flown to Westmead as Alisha’s condition continued to worsen.
Alisha was placed into an induced coma, which she would tragically never wake from. Picture: Supplied
She was a cheeky baby and an even cheekier 12-year-old. Picture: Supplied
“The hospital staff (at Westmead and John Hunter) were the most amazing team. They did not stop, those girls did 12-hour shifts because they didn’t want to leave her,” she said.
Nurses told Mrs Simpson they had removed Alisha’s beloved bellybutton piercing, to which she replied, “you lot are going to be in so much trouble when she wakes up”.
Alisha was declared dead at 11.58pm.
Alisha’s final months
As we sit in the loungeroom, the neighbour starts blasting Kasey Chambers and Australian country hits through the open windows.
We burst out laughing, and Mrs Simpson tells me about Alisha’s love of country music.
Her favourite song was Broken Window Serenade by Whisky Myers, whose lyrics tell of a girl’s tragic spiral into depression and addiction.
“It’s between that or Black by Pearl Jam,” Mrs Simpson said.
Broken Window Serenade was played at Alisha’s funeral alongside a slideshow filled with pictures of her and her father.
The beat filled the walls of the chapel as mourners placed flowers on top of the pink and white coffin.
The day prior, Alisha’s school had organised a memorial service with pink balloons and photos of the tween.
Mrs Simpson says Alisha took after her father, Kurt. They both had fiery spirits and could talk to anyone. Picture: Supplied
Broken Window Serenade made an appearance again, with Mrs Simpson joking the “whole of Morisset” could probably hear it.
Alisha had joined the league team earlier this year, playing for the under-12s Southlakes Roosters.
She donned the #3 jersey, which has since been retired by the club for the duration of the season.
“She was long and lanky, she looked like a baby giraffe when she ran,” Mrs Simpson said, smiling as she recalled Alisha’s time on the field.
“She said, ‘I’m a bit scared about getting tackled, nan’, and I said, ‘well, the only way out of that in football is to run, Alisha’.”
Alisha was no stranger to new schools, and she appeared to fit in perfectly with the crowd.
“She made lots of friends. She loved to talk to people and was very upfront and open,” Mrs Simpson said.
‘Kids in crisis shouldn’t have to wait’
Alisha had been seeing a school counsellor for her mental health, a battle Mrs Simpson says began before she was 10.
“I think over the years, she learnt to be who people wanted her to be,” Mrs Simpson said.
“She came across like she was full of self-confidence, but when she had the quiet talks with me, she wasn’t full of self-confidence, but she liked to buff herself up and flutter her wings out.
“She was always in that flight mode. She used to tell me: ‘I’m so tired of being strong for everybody’.
“I told her ‘you don’t have to be strong, you’re 12 years old. You’re safe here and nobody’s going to judge you if you want to cry. You want to cry about your dad or you want to cry about your mother or you want to cry because you’re missing your siblings? Do so’.”
Pictures of the pair adorn the family home. Picture: Supplied
They are remembered by their loved ones as having the ‘biggest hearts that absorbed everything’. Picture: Supplied
On June 19, Alisha’s school counsellor made an urgent referral to the Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service (CAMHS).
Two weeks later, Mrs Simpson received a call from the government service, which conducted a phone assessment.
Mrs Simpson said she was told the next available appointment was July 24, three days after Alisha had taken her own life.
“For kids in crisis, they can’t wait five weeks to see anyone,” Mrs Simpson said.
“People are pouring their hearts and their souls out via telehealth because they’re in a crisis.
“It’s not meaningful when it’s someone on the other end of the phone that you can’t actually visualise or see. There are only ever phone calls, which I don’t think is beneficial to anyone that has severe mental health (problems).”
Mrs Simpson described a healthcare system of systemic failure, one that had been crippled by a lack of resources and funding.
“Kids should not have to wait while in crisis. These children slip through the cracks,” she said.
The town lacks a designated pediatrician, while the broader region battles months to years-long wait times for psychiatric assistance through the public system.
“You can’t even get into the support services, and if you do, they’re unaffordable.”
Mrs Simpson’s family may never be the same, but they will do anything to prevent the same tragedy happening to another.
“The two of them would be dancing up there right now and waving to each other from their stars,” Mrs Simpson said.
“Alisha would love it, as long as she has her piercings.”
A spokesperson for CAMHS told news.com.au a review into Alisha’s care was underway.
“We extend our sincere condolences to the family, friends and school community affected by this tragic death,” they said.
“We are continuing to support the family and our staff during this difficult time. Our School Link Coordinator is providing targeted mental health and wellbeing support to those
affected.
“As a review into the care provided is underway, we are unable to provide further comment at this time.”
Alisha’s story is the first in a series of articles for a news.com.au investigation into Australia’s mental health crisis. Over the coming weeks, the stories, deaths and experiences of fellow Australians will be shared in an effort to encourage reform in the mental health sector.
