I Feel So Alive on World Suicide Prevention Day

Two years of choosing life, feeling alive, and being honest about death

Hot, sweaty, and feeling the blood rushing through my veins in Grenada

I’m not a big fan of jumping on social bandwagons and observing “national day of such and such” or “blah blah blah month,” but there is one exception I take very seriously: suicide awareness.

Today, September 10, 2025, is World Suicide Prevention Day, and I’d like to focus on it for just a bit. For whatever reason, suicide is like an unspoken family secret—a terrible truth that everybody knows about but also refuses to talk about.

This has always been confounding to me: I know at least nine people who have died by suicide. Some were friends, some were family members, and some were friends of family members. Yet people refuse to talk about it.

I despise this.

Suicide kills.

We need to talk about it.

Why we need to say the word “suicide”

As I’ve written before, pretending suicide doesn’t exist (or hiding the cause of death of people who die by suicide) doesn’t do anybody any favors, and it’s blatantly untruthful.

The best cure for a problem is to bring it out in the open, acknowledge that it exists, and talk about it. Like adultery, alcoholism, pornography, sexual abuse, or whatever else we find embarrassing, people know it’s destroying families, but they don’t want to acknowledge it.

THIS MUST STOP.

The headlines I hate seeing most are when people write about someone’s death and say the person “died suddenly” or “died unexpectedly.” This grieves me because it’s often a lie. I don’t necessarily fault people for their desire to do that, because they’re trying to protect the reputation of the deceased, their loved one.

But it’s still wrong.

Plus, I don’t think it’s actually loving—either to your loved one or to other people. If your friend or family member died from a certain kind of cancer, would it be disrespectful to let people know about that? What if other people learning that the kind of cancer their friend died from is something they should be aware of and seek testing for?

We do this all the time with all kinds of deaths.

Bob died of a heart attack.

Jimmy was killed in a drunk-driving accident.

Jane died from breast cancer.

This is good. It helps us think about our own mortality.

If we knew Bob, we should start taking our own heart health seriously.

If we knew Jimmy, we should start taking drinking and driving seriously.

If we knew Jane, we should start taking early detection for breast cancer seriously.

It’s crazy to single out suicide as the one cause of death where we zip our lips and act like we don’t know how they died or why.

Part of the reason people don’t want to talk about suicide is because they hate to say something out loud that might be true but sounds terrible.

“David killed himself because he hated his life” sounds ghastly. It also sounds judgmental, both to David and to the people around him.

It raises so many questions:

• Why was his life so bad?

• Didn’t he feel loved?

• Did other people drive him to suicide?

• Could I have done something to help?

All of these are fair questions, but in the end, none of them really matter: we can’t know, and it’s irrelevant once people take “the final solution to a temporary problem.”

We don’t NEED to know exactly why people end their own lives. For Pete’s sake, we don’t understand why people die from all kinds of things half the time anyway.

Some people die from lung cancer at age 23, even if they never smoked a cigarette in their lives. Yet, somehow, Keith Richards has smoked every substance known to man, inhaling the equivalent of all the pollution in Shanghai, China, yet he is still alive and kicking today at 81.

Obese men over the age of 45 are the most vulnerable to heart attacks, yet my own little brother, who was fit as a fiddle, highly active, and ate a healthy diet died from a sudden heart attack with no warning as an 18-year-old.

Death, in general, doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to.

Suicide doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to.

Stop lying about it.

Lee MacMillan: “Welcome to Life with Lee”

A few years ago, when my mental state was near its darkest point, I stumbled across a video of a “van life” millennial travel blogger on YouTube named Lee MacMillan. I found the video pinned to the top of her channel.

“Welcome to Life with Lee,” it said. I watched it, and saved it.

I thought it was very interesting and inspirational. She sounded a lot like me: both her passion for travel and exploration, and also in her muddy state of mental confusion, lack of peace and meaning, and overall sense of being unsettled.

I didn’t know who she was before, or what she’d done in the past, but she was clearly making some big life changes, and this video was an announcement of her new direction.

Watch the video: the scenery is breathtaking. Lee has gone all over the world, visiting at least 13 countries, and, if this video is any indicator, has traveled to mountains, beaches, deserts, jungles, big cities, and everything in between. It looks like she’s seen and done almost everything someone interested in travel possibly could.

But she’s clearly not happy. Something is wrong.

This video is an amazingly vulnerable confession of her struggle with emotional overload, mental health, and trying to make sense of her life. Here’s the video I found, below, and I’ve also added a transcript if you’d prefer to read it. (Or you can just skip past it if you’d prefer not to read the whole thing).

It’s almost ten minutes long, but I believe it’s worth your time. See what stands out to you and reflect on your own emotional feelings and struggles (if you have them).

I feel unable to take care of myself. Basic needs like feeding myself are hard right now. I feel lazy and disgusted with myself for how little I’m able to take care of. I’m unable to focus on anything, really.

I feel like I should be doing work. I should be making a LinkedIn profile. I feel sad, lost, and lonely. I’m unable to focus. I’m constantly comparing myself. I feel like I need to be productive.

Meanwhile, I’m spending my whole day procrastinating. Now I feel worse that I haven’t accomplished anything.

I did go for a bike ride with Dad today. That was nice.

I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I do truly want to create a morning routine to look forward to.

I want to wake up each day excited to live that day. Right now, living feels like a drag. I have a hard time envisioning my future because I don’t know what I want. Yet I’m not focusing on figuring out what it is that I want.

I know what I don’t want, and that list is long. So how can I be so picky? I always think a new place will solve my issue: new surroundings, new friends. But it’s not that simple.

I’m working on becoming better at being me, who I am, where I am, but it’s hard. This is a mental battle that I’m losing miserably right now. I’m not appreciating what I have or what’s around me. I speak the words, but I don’t feel it.

I was asked to describe 2020 in one word, and I said “raw.” This year, I was stripped of my ego and forced to face my insecurities, my self-limiting beliefs, and my fears. I had to change my mindset and learn to accept myself, all flaws included.

What I found happens when you learn to accept yourself for all that you are is you begin to heal. You begin to find out what it is that you really need to grow and thrive. You begin to find your tribe of people who love you for all that you are.

You begin to open new doors that were once closed because you were too busy trying to be somebody else or trying to meet someone’s expectations instead of being unapologetically yourself. And you begin to truly love yourself, and that is powerful.

I’ve learned that I would rather risk falling down again than let my life be controlled by my own fears. I’ve learned that no one can save you but yourself. You create your reality. You are in the driver’s seat. Not fear.

I’ve learned to stop disappointing myself in order to please everyone else. I’ve learned to set boundaries to protect my energy. I’ve learned to let go. To love without attachment.

I’ve learned that in order to stop dwelling in the past or obsessing over the future, you need to deal with the uncomfortable emotions that sit in the present. The longer you resist this, the worse you feel. I’ve learned it’s worth taking the difficult path if it means being true to yourself.

I’ve learned that as you change, not everyone will accept the new you. But that is okay.

I am so grateful for this community that we have built online, and I look forward to continuing to foster and curate a safe space for all of us to interact in 2021.

Which brings me to the most exciting part of this video, which is that I’m both ecstatic and slightly overwhelmed to be building a new camper van.

I am located in Santa Barbara in California, and this time around, I’m going to be building a van for a completely different reason. I am not interested in getting back into full-time van life. I have learned a lot of invaluable lessons on the road, one of which is to listen to my heart when the road is calling, but to honor myself and my needs when I’m craving some stability and solid ground under my feet.

So, California will be my launching pad, but I hope that one day, sooner than later, when the world begins to open, to travel in this van all across North America, and to meet more of you and more people in this like-minded community. You guys inspire me to be more creative, to continue opening up.

It’s very genuine for me to share. I’m an extrovert through and through, and I’ve learned this year that I need people. So I value this community so much. So, thank you for being here.

2021 is going to look different than it has in the past. If you’re excited to take on some new challenges with me, to learn, to grow, and to push yourself outside of your comfort zone with me, then I cannot wait to see more of you in the new year.

That is everything for me for the end of 2020.

See you in 2021.

Isn’t that beautiful, depressing, vulnerable… but also hopeful?

Here’s the sad thing: this video was posted in December 2020. I found this video, I think, in the summer of 2021.

She died by suicide in March 2021. That means she was already dead when I found this video. When I discovered who she was, it was already too late.

What a sad, crazy world.

I’ve watched this video multiple times since then, and the words have a totally new meaning now that I know that she was on the verge of ending her own life. It “hits different” now.

People could opine about how this video was “a cry for help,” but I’m no expert, and I don’t know that for sure. This may be one of those things that seemed okay at the time, but looks more obvious with the benefit of hindsight.

Are there some phrases she uses in this video that are a cause for concern? Certainly.

Does that mean it was logical for people to immediately contact her and ask her if she was suicidal? Not necessarily, but perhaps there were signs that friends and family members could have seen if they were looking. I don’t know.

Endlessly searching for meaning

Some people are quick to criticize the whole “van life” / nomad movement that’s so popular with millennials in the first place, and get kind of annoyed at their stubborn refusal to “settle down” and live a “normal” life.

It is indeed counter-cultural to reject the trappings of a family, a mortgage, a car, a job, and the boring daily grind that most Americans have experienced as “normal” for the past century or so.

It is a little strange to see a 28 year old woman living, alone, and single, with nothing, searching endlessly to find happiness by trotting all over the globe, visiting foreign places and meeting so many strangers who become friends, yet still coming up empty and feeling so alone.

I want to be a world traveler myself, and have visited a few countries on my own, taking various scuba diving trips in exciting places, and I love adventure.

But even I scratch my head at this whole generation of young people who are spending their entire twenties pursuing their wanderlust forever, off the grid, sleeping in their cars, cooking camp meals, taking spiritual retreats, endlessly navel-gazing, and perpetually trying to “discover themselves,” but never knowing exactly what that means.

It seems somewhat selfish and shallow and also so needlessly deep sometimes: like they’re living for simple pleasure, but also trying to uncover the profoundest truths of life, and solve the greatest mysteries of the universe and everything that exists.

But kids are kids, and sometimes it really does take time to discover that. Lee even admits being disillusioned with a life she thought would solve her emptiness.

I know what I don’t want, and that list is long. So how can I be so picky? I always think a new place will solve my issue: new surroundings, new friends. But it’s not that simple.

I have definitely known some people who feel like, in order to cope with life, they need to constantly move: they’re always changing their surroundings, changing the scenery, and changing their social circle. And I’m never surprised that these people seem to wander forever and never actually find what they’re looking for.

But at the same time, I’m awkwardly split in the middle—I also long to get in a van and drive all over the world, hike, snorkel, sail, swim, and camp in every country on earth. I want to wake up in a hammock high on a baobab tree in Madagascar, or go to bed under the stars in a sleeping bag in the Hebrides of Scotland.

I want all those things: I want to be free and untethered, going wherever the wind may take me.

But I can’t—I’m married and have five kids. I don’t have the time or freedom to do much more than stay home and take care of my family now. But, of course, the irony is, even though I’m not chasing my passions in a van overseas, I haven’t been immune to the same kinds of thoughts and feelings as Lee.

I have had a lifelong struggle myself with suicidal thoughts, and I have been very open about this. I don’t understand why other people aren’t. I am chronically surprised at the pathetic state of therapy and counseling, and I’ve had a tough time trying to choose to live when life is incredibly hard and I don’t understand why getting help seems to be so difficult.

My second “Lifeaversary”

And mostly, I don’t want to suffer in silence. When I made a huge life decision to put all thoughts of suicide behind me, two years ago, in September of 2023, I wrote about it to tell the world. I want people to know about my struggle and to celebrate with me in my victory over those thoughts and temptations.

This September, I’m celebrating my second “Lifeaversary,” and I want to make the Lifeaversary a thing for people who celebrate successfully choosing to live.

So today, I’m thankful for two years of choosing life, and I’m thankful for Lee MacMillan. I’m very sad that her story was so tragic, but I’m glad this video still exists to remind me of her. Her video shows real words shared by a real person who was really struggling.

I didn’t know her. But I appreciate the openness and honesty shared here, and I wish more people would talk like this.

The two most ironic parts of this story, though, are:

1. She titled this video: “Welcome to Life with Lee”

2. The background music she chose was a song called “So Alive.”

The lyrics are fantastic. Just look at the chorus:

“So Alive” by Leucadia

I, I feel so alive

I, I feel so alive

I feel the blood rush through my veins

I can take on the world when you’re next to me

I, I feel so alive

I feel so alive

(Listen to the song here, on Spotify, or Apple Music).

Since I found it, I have taken this song as my personal anthem for staying alive.

In the evenings, I like to sit in my backyard and watch the sunset and play this song.

I listen to it all the time to remind me of people who struggle and lose the fight (like Lee) and people still struggling and winning the fight (like me, so far).

I take it one day at a time, and remind myself that it’s good to feel so alive. And even though Lee isn’t here anymore, one thing is certain: while she was alive, she felt so alive. Just look at all the things she did in her short life. I aspire to do the same.

Please, talk about suicide

If you have struggled with thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please seek help. There are a lot of people willing to listen (including me—just send me a message).

For professional help, contact the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (details below).

Today, I’m proud to loudly and publicly observe World Suicide Prevention Day. I am celebrating my choice to keep living not only for myself, but for my wife and children, and also for the memory of those like Lee who remind us how fragile and precious that choice can be, who can’t speak up against suicide anymore.

Please, talk about suicide.

Open your mouth. Use words. Ask questions. Be a listener.

Check in with the people you care about. Tell (and show) them that life is worth living.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. Veterans, press 1 when calling.