Alright. Let’s go a bit deeper today.
No filters.
No hype.
No motivational slogans slapped on top of real pain.
Just real talk.
There’s a thought many people carry quietly.
One they don’t say out loud.
One that feels shameful… even dangerous to admit.
The thought of removing yourself from the equation.
Permanently.
Not for attention.
Not for drama.
Not to hurt anyone.
Just to make the pain stop.
When you’re exhausted, your mind starts telling you things that sound reasonable:
“It’s my life.”
“I’m not hurting anyone.”
“They’ll be fine.”
“I just can not continue.”
Brother… I hear you.
Most people will never understand that kind of inner ache. They’re spared that darkness. They go to bed tired — not broken. Sad — not hollow. Overwhelmed — but not crushed from the inside out.
I wasn’t spared.
I’ve been there. More than once.
Those thoughts have knocked on my door too.
And ja — life can SUCK. Properly.
Sometimes it’s not even one big thing. It’s just pressure. Relentless pressure. Always being the strong one. The reliable one. The oke everyone leans on… while you quietly bleed on the inside.
And when you’re in that space, your mind becomes a very convincing liar.
So here’s a truth we don’t talk about enough — and we should.
When someone takes their own life, it’s not an ending.
It’s a nuclear explosion.
Not for you — you’re gone.
But for everyone else.
Your mom.
Your dad.
Your kids.
Your nieces and nephews.
Your brothers and sisters.
Your friends.
Your colleagues.
And even the people who quietly looked up to you — the ones you never knew were watching.
They all stand in the blast radius.
And here’s the hard part:
They don’t “get over it”.
Ever.
They learn to live around it.
They learn to function with it.
But that wound never really closes.
Birthdays feel different.
Holidays feel heavier.
Random moments reopen everything.
And the shockwave doesn’t stop there.
Trauma echoes forward. It seeps into the next generation. Children grow up with unanswered questions. Families fracture. Some people never fully trust joy again.
One decision.
Hundreds of lives altered.
Deeply. Permanently.
So no — this isn’t “just your life”.
If you’re standing in that dark place right now, I’m not here to lecture you. I’m not here to shame you. And I’m definitely not going to throw clichés at you.
I’m asking you one thing.
Pause.
Pause long enough to think about the devastation you would leave behind.
The pain you feel is real. I won’t minimise it.
But it is also temporary, even if it doesn’t feel like it today.
What’s not temporary is the damage left when someone checks out.
Pain changes.
Circumstances change.
People change.
You don’t have to solve your whole life today.
You don’t have to be strong forever.
You don’t even have to feel hopeful right now.
You just have to stay.
Get help. Speak. Phone someone. Sit quietly with someone if that’s all you can manage. Cry if you need to. Swear if you need to. Just don’t lock yourself inside your own head — that’s the most dangerous place to be.
And if you don’t know who to talk to — talk to me. I mean that.
And ja… knowing me, you know I’m going to say it:
Jesus and gym, brother.
Not because push-ups fix your soul 😅
But because faith gives perspective when life feels meaningless.
And movement gives you something solid to hold onto when your mind is spiralling.
They’re not magic solutions.
They’re tools.
Talking is the lifeline.
Don’t disappear.
You are needed — even on the days you feel invisible, useless, or easily replaceable.
If you need coaching guidance, structure, or simply a place to rebuild yourself step by step, you can reach me here:
👉 https://gertlouw.com/contact-me-2/coaching-options/
You’re not weak for struggling.
You’re strong for staying.
And if this helped you, share it.
It might land in front of someone who’s fighting a battle you can’t see.
Gert Louw
gertlouw 