I asked myself that question a few months ago, as I looked at my reflection in a bathroom mirror. It was almost a random inquiry; a sudden revelation after years of suffering with depression and alcoholism. I’ve contemplated suicide more times than I can recount and have actually come very close to ending my own life on a few occasions.
How is it that I’m still here?
Recently I conversed with a younger friend who had turned 40 last year and is at a tough point in his life. He had spent nearly a decade in education before joining an alleged friend to start a business. This “friend” took the money he’d invested and abandoned the project. So now my pal is nearly bankrupt and has to resort to an Uber-type job to earn a living. We conversed between rides. The gig economy emerged after the “Great Recession”. I fell victim to it after losing my job with an engineering firm in 2010. It can be humiliating, as people struggle to find work.
As I described in a previous essay, I began fighting alcoholism in the mid-1980s. I still haven’t won – and I know I never really will – but I’ve succeeded in controlling it. Equally wicked and unrelenting, depression and alcoholism are perfect companions – global serial killers. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been impacted by either of these afflictions.
But people don’t always tell the truth about their lives.
Regardless, I still wonder how I’ve come this far. I’m certainly glad that I have. Between October 2024 and January 2025 I lost three of my closest friends. I’m at the point in time where I don’t count the number of likes I get on Facebook or Instagram. I count the number of people I’ve outlived. Then again, one doesn’t get to this point in life without going through a few bumps and bruises. And that means losing people we know and love.
How are you still alive?
I don’t know. Honestly…I have no idea. But I’m here – and I’ll just keep moving forward.
Chief Writing Wolf 