Suicide is the greatest subject of writing. One, there is the responsibility involved in writing about the topic. Studies show that suicide rates increase whenever media covers suicide. It is as if whenever we talk about it, we endanger someone else’s life. Then there’s the mystery of it all. Those who took their own lives won’t be able to tell us what happened at the last moment before they went.

When I was young, on one of the preaching walks, the woman we were talking with told us about a recent suicide in their community. I judged the person who committed it. Why would someone ever do such a thing? To hurt himself. People who do that commit the most unforgivable sin.

You won’t understand suicide until you are there. Until it is the only thing that makes sense. That your brain is in so much pain that you cannot take it any longer and it is the only way out. It is all about pain. The way I experienced it. I know some people had the time to philosophize about it. My experience was that I was just really desperate of whatever physical thing I caught. Because it was physical.

But what that experience taught me was not giving up. Or giving up but not giving in. It is ok to accept defeat to let go. But I gave myself the chance to be patient. And patience was everything. Waiting was everything.

The waiting, I discovered from experience, happened easily when one does it day by day. Moment by moment. The by-product of this is that you appreciate the slowness of life and what happens in between. This was when I got another realization: life is inherently meaningless. The reason why it can be so easy to give in is because we haven’t done the work of creating meaning (either through building relationships, touching people’s lives, seeing the world, reading, etc.), it is so difficult to find a reason to keep going when in that situation. I was deep in religion but not even my beliefs saved me. And this is why I think, a lot of young people who caught depression, easily give up. They just haven’t been in this world long enough to see closer and longer for meaning. There is no destiny. Meaning is not given. We look for it ourselves. It takes some work to create a meaningful life even among those who grew up in the healthiest families and in the most privileged situations.

Suicide is the single most important motivation. We want to find the good in life as much as we can to never ever want to let it go. And if ever this resolved is challenged, we know we are stronger.

For those who have never experience the urge to harm themselves, be grateful for it, but never ever judged those who do. And while you’re life is perfect, make the most of your situation by finding meaning as much as you can so that you are ready whenever things go south. Because they always do.


If you decide to stop living, then there’s no getting better. It just stops altogether.

So, the decision is either to stop altogether or wait for things to get better. Most of the time, they do. Ginhawa. Relief is more accessible than we usually believe.

To do