Trigger Warning: mentions suicide
The Club No One Signs Up For
Several years ago, I lost a former boss—Matthew.*
He wasn’t a close friend, but he was a kind and influential presence in my life. He helped me become a book editor, which had been my dream since eighth grade. He modeled strong, thoughtful leadership at a time when I was going through my own personal collapse.
I worked under him during one of the hardest seasons of my life. I had just called off a wedding and was in the thick of a depression so deep, I couldn’t comprehend how I was functioning. Work became a safe space. My team felt like family. And Matthew helped create that environment.
Then, he died by suicide.
The Grief That Catches You Off Guard
I hadn’t worked with Matthew in years, but when I learned of his death, it hit me hard—much harder than I expected. Because suddenly, I realized: We were in the same club.
The Depression Club.
The one where you know what it’s like to plan your own death.
Where you’ve written the letter to your family.
Where you’ve taken the first steps.
I’ve never fully attempted suicide, but I have been that low. I’ve felt the ache that makes you want to disappear and stop the pain. The weight that makes hope feel fictional.
And Then It Happened Again
Even recently—just a couple weeks ago—depression snuck back in. Out of nowhere. I cried myself to sleep every night for a week. I prayed for the pain to stop.
But this time? Something was different.
The Tools That Brought Me Back
I used meditation skills I’d learned from my coach. I sat with my emotions instead of running from them. I took small, gentle steps. And for the first time ever—I walked myself out of a depressive episode.
That moment was incredibly empowering. Because I realized:
I am not powerless.
My brain has changed.
The work I’ve done has mattered.
And it continues to matter.
Living With Depression, Not Under It
Sometimes I forget that healing isn’t a straight line. Even though I haven’t been suicidal in years, depression still visits. But now, I have more tools. I have support. I have hope.
And I have a voice that can speak clearly, even in the dark.
A Quick Practice
What’s one small step you can take today to care for your mental health?
Is it scheduling a therapy session? Getting some sunlight? Taking a mindful walk or just texting a friend to say “I’m struggling”?
Pick the next smallest step. You don’t have to climb the mountain—just take one breath at a time.
Reflection
When was a time you survived something quietly? Something no one else knew was hard for you? What did it take to keep going—and what might you need now to feel supported, seen, or safe?