Part 1: The silence before the collapse

Dear reader,

I don't know about you, but I think living in a society where pain is normalized and hardship is glorified has got to be one of the most painful and infuriating things. In many societies, pain is not just tolerated—it’s expected. Hardship is glorified as a rite of passage, and emotional suffering is often dismissed as weakness.

Young people are taught to endure, to suppress, to “tough it out.” Over time, this cultural conditioning creates a dangerous silence—one that can become fatal.

When emotional pain is normalized, it becomes invisible.

And when it’s invisible, it’s rarely addressed.

This silence is one of the most insidious contributors to the rise in youth suicide rates worldwide. The silence becomes so loud that for some people, the only way out is under.

It starts slowly, a raw stealth unravelling with very subtle signs that rarely disrupts routine. The pain however gets so heavy as it builds up thread by thread until the weight becomes unbearable.

Words may fail to fully convey the danger of unresolved pain, but numbers always tell the truth.

🌍 Suicide Rates Among Youth by Continent

To understand the global scope, here’s a comparative look at estimated suicide rates among

people between the ages of 15 and 24

Continent	Estimated Suicide Rate (per 100,000)	Key Observations
Africa	6–9	Underreporting due to stigma and limited data infrastructure
Asia	8–12	High rates in South and Southeast Asia; cultural pressures play a role
Europe	10–15	Eastern Europe shows the highest rates; mental health services vary widely
North America	12–14	Indigenous youth face disproportionately high risk
South America	7–10	Urban youth show rising trends; economic instability is a factor
Oceania	10–13	Australia and New Zealand report concerning levels, especially among

Note: These figures are approximations based on WHO and regional health data. Reporting standards and cultural factors may affect accuracy.

These numbers represent more than mere data; they are stories left incomplete, journeys unexplored, and dreams unfulfilled. The most troubling aspect is that these figures are inaccurate. There's more to them than we can ever comprehend, including those under 15 and over 24 years old who go unmentioned. If we take this to heart and imagine knowing these individuals beyond statistics, the weight of emotional indifference starts to resonate deeply.

These individuals didn't view death merely as an end; they perceived it as a means of escape, a route to freedom. They attempted to numb their feelings, but it proved ineffective. They withdrew, yet no one inquired about their state. They wished someone would look into their eyes and recognize their suffering. They cried out and caused a commotion, hoping it would convey their distress, but they continued to feel overwhelmed. Ultimately, they chose the only way out they could see.

Think back.

To the friend who stopped texting.

The sibling who grew quieter.

The classmate who always said “I’m fine” a little too quickly.

How many times did you nod and move on?

How many times did you sense something was off—but didn’t ask? Not because you didn’t care, but because you didn’t know how to.

We all do it. We all miss the signs.

And sometimes, the cost of that silence is a life that quietly slips away.

When pain is seen as normal, it’s easy to overlook.

When suffering is glorified, it’s easy to ignore.

And when silence is rewarded, it’s easy to miss the signs.

This post doesn’t offer solutions. It doesn’t end with hope.

It simply asks: What happens when we stop noticing pain?

And maybe that’s where we begin. Not with answers, but with questions.

Not with light, but with the honesty of darkness.

“Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.” — Seneca

love,

Me <3

P.S.: It gets better; it can get better.