To Live or to Die: The Choice is Yours

The past four years haven’t been kind to me.

In 2021, after trying to protect myself from a reckless driver, I was convicted of gross negligence. An injustice I fought all the way to the federal court, the highest court in the country, and lost. It wasn’t until this spring that I had to face a three-month license suspension as a result.

Then, in August 2022, came the unfair termination. Eighteen months of fruitless job searching followed, because when you’re over 50 without a degree, experience doesn’t count. And also because I have a very unusual profile: it’s not easy for employers to figure out what to do with me.

In 2023, while on sick leave during unemployment, the disability insurance company canceled my contract on bogus grounds… Another injustice. And of course, unless you’re a millionaire, we all know that fighting an insurance giant is a war of attrition with astronomical costs. I didn’t even try.

Finally, in 2025, just when I was happy to finally get relief from daily hip pain with prosthetic replacements on both sides, I won the hospital infection lottery—a drug-resistant bacterial infection contracted during surgery that led to a third operation and three months of antibiotics, with no guarantee that bacteria aren’t hiding between the bone and prosthesis, potentially requiring another surgery in two years to remove it.

So several times, especially over these past four years, I’ve asked myself: To live or to die?

Suicidal thoughts aren’t what people think. We all have suicidal thoughts at some point. We can classify them into two main categories:

Passive suicidal thoughts: These are fleeting thoughts that say « if I hadn’t been born, if I weren’t here, if I disappeared, everything would be simpler. »

Active suicidal thoughts: These are more concrete thoughts: You start imagining the scenario, planning it, preparing to act on it.

It’s not so much the type of thought that’s concerning as their frequency. Not everyone with suicidal thoughts will act on them, but everyone who has acted on them had suicidal thoughts first. They reflect suffering, distress.

I had my first suicidal thoughts at 14, after my mother’s partner slapped me so hard my head nearly came off. I took a star wire that I knew was very strong and wrapped it tightly around my wrist, hoping it would cut my veins. But in reality, it hurt! I quickly released the pressure and cried my eyes out.

Throughout my life, I’ve mostly experienced passive suicidal thoughts, telling myself in the hardest moments that everything would be so much simpler if I didn’t exist. I never acted on them, held back by the fear of suffering, and probably of causing others to suffer.

Since then, I’ve gained experience, developed a deep understanding of myself and my relationship with others, and learned to step back. Even in the most devastating moments like my 2022 termination, when I was bedridden for 10 days with panic attacks, I manage to tell myself: « This is temporary. Soon, things will get better. They can only get better. »

When I take stock of the many traumas, all the injustices I’ve been through, I realize I’ve made a choice.

Fundamentally, we have two choices, two paths when facing life’s challenges: To live or to die.

I’ve become aware that I’ve chosen to live. And this protects me from acting on those thoughts, because no matter what happens, I don’t want to die. This probably explains my extraordinary resilience. To live or to die, the choice is yours.

Actually, it all started in 2012, when during a random browse at FNAC, I stumbled upon Christel Petitcollin’s book « I Think Too Much: How to Channel This Overwhelming Mind. » It literally jumped into my arms. A perfectly fitting title that put me on the path to discovering my giftedness. That’s when, recognizing myself in those pages, I understood that I didn’t know myself. And that made me curious.

Since then, I’ve dug deeper into the subject… The subject? That’s me. Me, and my relationship with others and the world. I discovered I’d had a completely atypical career, thanks to a vocational qualification obtained through validation of prior experience. Then in 2017, after a proper IQ test, I discovered mine was one standard deviation above average: enough to feel bitter and regretful, thinking « I should have gone to university… » or « if only I’d been encouraged, » and other pointless regrets.

I discovered my ADHD in 2021, which my 2022 termination pushed me to explore, study, and better understand. I even got tested for autism, which came back negative. And finally, at the end of 2024, I understood the concept of complex post-traumatic stress disorder, a condition linked to accumulated trauma over time, such as bullying at school or home, domestic violence, workplace harassment, and more. For me, it was violence and harassment in childhood and adolescence that laid the foundation for a permanent social anxiety I only became aware of last month, in July 2025.

Writing this article, I feel like I’m complaining, playing the victim, and yet these are facts. Facts I share because, like many others, I’m a professional at masking—that unconscious tendency to play the role of the strong, confident person, the one people naturally turn to in difficult times. An automatic response so well-rehearsed that no one could ever imagine the suffering it hides. Without wanting to or realizing it, I’ve become the pillar that those seeking support gravitate toward. And all of this, everything I’ve experienced, everything I feel daily, is invisible. Masking will actually be the subject of an upcoming article.

Anyway. To live or to die, the choice is yours. And I’ve chosen to live. Every experience, however painful, every diagnosis, has brought me pieces of answers, pieces of a puzzle so large and complex that it’s rare to understand the whole picture in a lifetime.

To live or to die, the choice is yours, and I’ve chosen to live because today, with the answers I have, I’m optimistic. Today, I have material to work with, to process, so I can face the future with more serenity and clarity. What motivates me is seeing my ability to positively influence the people I meet, sometimes strangers during a walk in the forest, sometimes loved ones who didn’t yet have certain useful answers to make sense of things.

And since I’ve chosen to live, I do everything I can to make this life as balanced as possible, between unavoidable suffering and essential joy.

If you too, reader, sometimes think—maybe often—that life would be simpler without you, ask yourself this question: What have you chosen? To live or to die?