When I was in the 6th grade my class was discussing nuclear war, and I said that while I hoped it never happened, I wasn't scared of it happening, because I knew if I died I'd be with Jesus.
The next day I was sent to the counselor, where I learned they were afraid I was suicidal. The counselor quickly learned that I wasn't, but she gave me a book about the struggles of adolescence. (It had talk about how I may be confused and embarrassed about getting boobies, so I suppose the author thought it was only girls who struggled with adolescence. Or the counselor gave me the wrong book.)
The security of the gospel makes no sense to the world. Darkened minds cannot understand the light.
I wasn't suicidal; I was (and am) secure.