Last year, I decided to start writing again after a long absence. The hiatus was largely due to my fear of judgment — of exposing myself through my writing. I’ve always written in a brutally authentic way, and that style meant that whatever I wrote would reflect me deeply. It’s the kind of writing that lets people see through you, and I worried that people would see all the vulnerabilities, all the insecurities, in a way that would make me uncomfortable.
But, as much as I feared judgment, I couldn’t escape the pull of writing about what truly matters to me. I couldn’t settle for writing about things that didn’t connect deeply with who I am. So I returned to it, promising myself to go back to the raw, unfiltered style of the past. And I've stuck to that promise, until now.
Today, though, I’m going to write about something that’s hard for me to talk about. It’s a topic that might make some people uncomfortable. For others, they may deeply relate. But I feel it’s important to share, because it's something many of us face, whether we realise it or not.
We all have gifts. Things that come naturally to us — whether it's a voice that can reach incredible ranges, or the ability to dance with the stars, or something else entirely. While people spend years honing these skills, the truth is that the starting point for most of these abilities is a gift. Something we didn’t earn, but were simply handed.
We think of this in black and white terms, especially in areas like sports or the arts: either you’re gifted or you’re not. Most people wouldn’t fault a child for not being the next Cristiano Ronaldo or Ed Sheeran. But what we often forget is that the gods don’t just give. They take as well. We might get incredible talent in one area, but then have to deal with challenges elsewhere. You might be a brilliant artist with a chaotic family life, or have great wealth but never find the peace to enjoy it. The gods give, and they take — and that’s a reality we all live with.
I call these our weaknesses. We all have them. Even those who seem to have it all. These weaknesses show up in different ways and to varying degrees. Take someone who’s a brilliant singer but can’t quiet the voice of addiction or suicide in their head. They may turn to sex, drugs, or worse. We’ve seen this happen to people like Avicii.
If you’ve never been in that mental place, it’s hard to imagine. For those who are naturally mentally resilient and optimistic, it’s almost impossible to understand why someone can’t just “snap out of it” or say “no” to their destructive tendencies. They wonder, “why would anyone kill themselves yet many are struggling for their lives int he hospital?” But, thinking like this is like a monkey asking why a fish can’t swing from tree to tree.
And I relate to this. I have gifts — plenty of them. One of those gifts is the ability to take irrational risks, to sharply switch contexts, to jump into new ventures on a whim. I can start a company where the odds of success are extremely slim, or travel to a new city with just a suitcase and start my life.
There was a time, not so long ago, when I didn’t understand why others wouldn’t just take that leap too. Why wouldn’t everyone take the risk? It seemed obvious to me. But now I realize that this is one of my gifts. I didn’t earn it, and not everyone shares that kind of mindset. Around 2016, a friend pointed out that I had a unique gift for entrepreneurship, and that I shouldn’t expect others to feel the same or to understand me. It was something I had never really understood before, but it was true.
But just as I have these strengths, I also have weaknesses. And those weaknesses become glaring when I’m faced with situations where they work against me. The truth is, I have a mental battle that others just can’t relate to. It’s something I’ve tried to push away for years, but it never goes away. And, i have come to accept that it will never go away.
I had a conversation with a friend two weeks ago about relocating to the U.S. I explained why I didn’t want to. She tried to convince me that it would be good for my kids, but I struggled to articulate why I wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t until I paused, looked inward, and found myself speaking for five minutes about my fears that I truly understood why.
For most of my adult life, I’ve lived in two extremes: profound emptiness and euphoric highs. The highs are amazing. I feel unstoppable. I’m optimistic. Life connects in perfect ways, and everything feels right. I can take on the entire world. But the emptiness is something else entirely. I will curl up in bed for weeks, wondering why I’m even here in this world. Why suffer through life at all? For me, living is suffering, a constant grind, like staring into an abyss and eating glass. Over and over again. It is painful.
When things get tough, I struggle to find meaning in the hardship. I wonder what the purpose of it all is. What's the greater good that justifies the suffering? And then, the dark thoughts creep in. Why keep fighting? What's the point? Why not commit suicide?
This is the part that terrifies me. What if I move to the U.S. and all of this spirals out of control? What if I end up in a place where the emptiness becomes unbearable? What if I can’t handle it? And then, the only solution is to jump off a building to my death?
I know this is my weakness. And when I shared these thoughts, she couldn’t relate. She couldn’t imagine living with a mind that’s constantly in battle, where thoughts of life and death are racing through your mind every day. And many others don’t understand either. Last year, after shutting down my company, i had constant thoughts of suicide. A friend would not understand. To him, i am handsome, had great job offers and my life was overall great. Why think of suicide?
It’s a hard reality to face, but it’s mine. I’ve always had a gift for certain things, but I’ve also been cursed with a mind that doesn’t always see the world clearly. I’ve lived most of my life without purpose, and when difficulties arise, my first instinct is to ask: why keep going? Why not commit suicide?
But I’ve come to realize that I need to accept this reality. I need to acknowledge that, for me, struggles are often tied to my mental state, and if I don’t address that, I’ll keep putting myself in situations that worsen the cycle. I have written about seeking help before, i see a therapist every month.
One thing that has helped recently is recognising that there is certain responsibilities that i have been running away from for a long time. But late last year, I started to face it. My father passed away when I was young, and his absence has always weighed on me. It is like my entire existence is tied to his absence and his unfinished work. His image looms large in my life and mind, demanding that I finish this work. I’ve finally relented and started to take on that responsibility.
In January, I began renovating his old house. I’m also building my own house next to his. The objective is to regularly gather my siblings starting this Easter holiday. Together with my siblings, we are also planning to honour our father and celebrate his legacy through a memorial and thanksgiving service later in the year. This will be the first in all the 31 years of my father’s death.
These things are demanding but surprisingly I’ve found peace in them. I’ve found joy.Taking on this responsibility has given me purpose. It’s something that doesn’t trigger my darker thoughts. It’s something that grounds me. I am always looking forward to the next day because of these projects.
To anyone who’s struggling with mental battles, I dedicate this to you. I hope you find the answers your mind is seeking. I hope you find peace, purpose, and the strength to keep going.