He apologized for freezing earlier, for not having an answer. As soon as Silas started his story, I forgot about the elevator. We meandered around tables and desks to the relative privacy of the elevator vestibule, and I hit the Down button. My girlfriend had just landed at SFO and I needed to meet her for dinner. I waived and returned to chatting with the others. He thanked me and backed out of the crowd. I wrote a few lines, added a smiley face, signed the book he’d brought, and handed it back. I decided to take the pressure off: “I’m sure I can come up with something. There was something unusual that I couldn’t put a finger on. He froze for few seconds but kept eye contact. “Anything in particular you’d like me to say to him? To your brother?” I asked this one gent, who was immaculately dressed in a suit. Now, more than 200 people were milling about, drinking wine, or heading off for their weekends.Ī handful of attendees gathered near the mics for pics and book inscriptions. The venue–Pivotal Labs’ offices in downtown SF–had been packed to capacity. He’d hyped up the crowd and kept things rolling for more than 2 hours on stage, asking me every imaginable question. Jason Calacanis, the host and interviewer, sure knows how to put on a show.
It was Friday night, around 7pm, and a live recording of the TWiST podcast had just ended. There were perhaps a dozen people around me asking questions, and he had politely waited his turn. “Could you please sign this for my brother? It would mean a lot to him.” So, despite the shame I might feel, the fear that is making my palms sweat as I type this, allow me to get started. Recently, however, I had an experience that shook me - woke me up - and I decided that it was time to share it all. These are stories I’ve kept secret from my family, girlfriends, and closest friends for years. In this post, I’m going to talk about suicide, and why I’m still on this planet. This happy-looking shot was taken in 1999, when I almost destroyed myself.
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