Being Alive

January 29, 2026

Content warning: Illness, suicide.

I’ve always had complicated feelings about being alive. In my twenties i realized that I couldn’t picture my life beyond 30, which was incredibly disconcerting.

The truth is, I don’t think I’m supposed to be alive.

At 14 my body turned against me, with my immune system attacking my digestive tract until it was destroyed.

At 15 the medication meant to stop my immune response put too much strain on my weakened heart.

At 25 an emergency room doctor told me that if I hadn’t come in I would have died in my sleep that night, as sceptic shock overtook my body.

At 29 I climbed a fence to the edge of the gorge, ready to fall into the abyss below and end it all. My foot slipped and I clung to the railing, startled into action. I climbed back over the fence with trembling hands. As I sat on the ground crying, my phone dinged. It was a message from a lifelong friend who replied to my “I love you”/cry for help text. It was the middle of the night and despite being an exhausted mom, she immediately offered to come and get me. I was too embarrassed and wrung out to accept, but her kindness reminded me that I wasn’t alone (Rationally, I knew this, but when you’re struggling with severe depression your mind lies to you, so this in-the-moment proof was vital). We texted until I felt a bit more regulated. And then I called 911 because I knew that I needed immediate help.

At 35, just as I felt like my life was coming together (happily married, beautiful house, week two at a dream job), when the the unimaginable happened- I suffered a massive brain bleed (hemorrhagic stroke) that would change everything, forever. Statistically I should not have survived this. But a series of good luck (my wife waking up, finding me, and immediately recognizing I was having a stroke, along with the response time of EMS, etc) meant that I did. What followed has been four long years of rehabilitation, recovery, and relearning how to live again.

As I approach the fifth anniversary of my stroke (as well as my 40th birthday) I am ready to fully embrace life. I am ready to feel excited and hopeful about the future. And I’m ready to share my experience, in the hopes of helping others.