Yesterday I got an alarming message. It was a close-up picture of a forearm covered in slashes and dripping with blood. Before I could respond, another pic came through, this one a full-body shot with that arm wrapped in bandages, revealing someone now at least physically OK.

The message came from someone I'd never met. I'll call him Rafi (not his real name). We had been in touch during the planning for the Elska Dhaka issue because he wanted to take part; however due to the fact that the Elska photoshoots would occur during his university exams, he chose to decline. Once the Dhaka sessions were over, I didn't necessarily expect to hear from him again, but certainly not like this.

(I don’t feel right to share graphic images or ones revealing his face, but I’ll share this one)

He explained that he did this because the man he was in love with disappeared, ignoring all messages and providing no reasons for ostensibly breaking up with him. I put on my wise old man hat and told this early-twenties guy that these things happen, that he shouldn't blame himself, and that he should blindly grab onto some hope and focus on trying to move on.

I was saddened but I also was angry. I don't want to speak for Bangladeshis, but many first-hand stories I've heard from them inform me that it's not easy to be gay there. I've also seen how common it is for LGBTQ Bangladeshis to find 'love' online, but since meeting other queer locals can be dangerous, they're often meeting foreigners, either physically when they're passing through on business trips or just virtually. In the case of Rafi, he'd been in a long-term long-distance relationship with a Dutch man. And although they'd never met in person, Rafi was under the impression that they were a proper couple and that he would be eventually moving to the Netherlands to be together. One of the stories in the Elska Dhaka issue reveals a similar situation, so my first reaction was to shout at these men to stop stringing along vulnerable guys from faraway places online. Yet while I stand by my anger, there's a different issue I should be focusing on, one of mental health.

Slashing your arms, whether you're doing it for a reaction or whether you genuinely intend to end your life, is not right. Even in my society, it's hard enough for people to seek out mental health help, and I imagine it's no easier in Bangladesh. But it's even harder for LGBTQ people who need to be sure that the therapist will understand them, which is most certainly even harder in Bangladesh.

If you know someone who might be able to talk to Rafi, please get in touch. I've heard of therapists running sessions online, over Skype or whatever. Maybe this could be a solution. He seems to speak English very well, but a Bangla speaker would be even better, not just for the language but to increase cultural understanding.

Liam Campbell is editor and chief photographer of Elska Magazine, a project about travelling the world and getting to know local gay communities.