{"product_id":"reasons-to-stay-alive-isbn-9780143128724","title":"Reasons to Stay Alive","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eFrom the #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Midnight Library.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A very special book that has provided a beam of hope to so many.”—DOLLY ALDERTON\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eWHAT DOES IT MEAN TO FEEL TRULY ALIVE?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAged 24, Matt Haig's world caved in. He could see no way to go on living. This is the true story of how he came through crisis, triumphed over an illness that almost destroyed him, and learned to live again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt has helped millions of people do the same. Moving, funny, and even joyous, these are the lessons Matt learned. His reasons to stay alive. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"I wrote this book because the oldest clichés remain the truest. Time heals. The bottom of the valley never provides the clearest view. The tunnel does have light at the end of it, even if we haven't been able to see it . . . Words, just sometimes, really can set you free.\"\u003c\/i\u003eNamed \u003cb\u003eone of\u003c\/b\u003e E\u003cb\u003entertainment Weekly's Must-Read Books of the Year\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFinalist for the \u003cb\u003eWaterstone's Book of the Year\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"A very special book that has provided a beam of hope to so many in their darkest days.\" -- DOLLY ALDERTON\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Destined to become a modern classic.\" —\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"An in-depth exploration of Haig’s battle with depression, if you need a pick-me-up on a very fundamental level, you could do a lot worse than this book.\" ―PEOPLE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I dog-eared 45 pages in Haig's compact book where he wrote profound or poignant things. I could have easily marked more of them.\" ―Jim Higgings, THE MILWAUKEE JOURNAL SENTINEL\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Wonderful and essential.\" ―Christopher Weir, THE HUFFINGTON POST\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A quick, witty and at times profound take on an illness many people suffer from, but sometimes can’t bring themselves to talk about.\" ―THE MINNEAPOLIS STAR-TRIBUNE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A small masterpiece that may even save lives\" -- JOANNA LUMLEY\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Things just got real. His honest — and surprisingly funny — first person account is a reminder that no matter how hopeless life may seem, it really never is.\" ―NY METRO\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A scintillating read.” ―THE DAILY MAIL (London)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"REASONS TO STAY ALIVE is essential reading for anyone who has dealt with depression and for anyone who loves someone with the disease.\" ―BOOK REPORTER (London)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Fascinating and beautifully written.\" ―IAN RANKIN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Brings a difficult and sensitive subject out of the darkness and into the light.\" ―MICHAEL PALIN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Matt Haig is astounding.\" ―STEPHEN FRY\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Maybe the most important book I've read this year.\" ―SIMON MAYO\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A life-saving book.\" ―AMANDA CRAIG\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Matt Haig uses words like a tin-opener. We are the tin.\" ―JEANETTE WINTERSON\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Thoughtful, honest and incredibly insightful.\" ―JENNY COLGAN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Brilliant and salutary . . . should be on prescription.\" ―REV. RICHARD COLES\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A vibrant, encouraging depiction of a sinister disorder.\" ―KIRKUS REVIEW\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Warm and engaging, and shot through with humour...a valuable contribution to the conversation.\" ―THE SUNDAY TIMES (London)\u003cb\u003eMatt Haig\u003c\/b\u003e is the internationally bestselling writer of six novels, including the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestseller \u003ci\u003eThe Midnight Library\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eHow To Stop Time.\u003c\/i\u003e He has also written award-winning children’s books. His work has been translated into thirty languages. He has written two memoirs, \u003ci\u003eReasons to Stay Alive\u003c\/i\u003e, an international bestseller, and \u003ci\u003eNotes on a Nervous Planet.\u003c\/i\u003eThis  book  is  impossible\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThirteen years ago I knew this couldn’t happen. I  was  going  to  die,  you  see.  Or  go  mad. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere  was  no  way  I  would  still  be  here.  Sometimes  I doubted I would even make the next ten minutes. And the idea that I would be well enough and confident enough to write about it in this way would have been just far too much to  believe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne of the key symptoms of depression is to see no hope. No  future.  Far  from  the  tunnel  having  light  at  the  end  of it, it seems like it is blocked at both ends, and you are inside it.  So  if  I  could  have  only  known  the  future,  that  there would  be  one  far  brighter  than  anything  I’d  experienced, then  one  end  of  that  tunnel  would  have  been  blown  to pieces, and I could have faced the light. So the fact that this book  exists  is  proof  that  depression  lies.  Depression  makes you  think  things  that  are  wrong. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut  depression  itself  isn’t  a  lie.  It  is  the  most  real  thing  I’ve ever experienced. Of course, it is invisible. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo other people, it sometimes seems like nothing at all. You are  walking  around  with  your  head  on  fire  and  no  one  can  see  the  flames.  And  so—as  depression  is  largely  unseen  and  mysterious—it is easy for stigma to survive. Stigma is partic-ularly  cruel  for  depressives,  because  stigma  affects  thoughts  and  depression  is  a  disease  of  thoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen you are depressed you feel alone, and that no one is going through quite what you are going through. You are so scared of appearing in any way mad you internalize every-thing,  and  you  are  so  scared  that  people  will  alienate  you  further  you  clam  up  and  don’t  speak  about  it,  which  is  a  shame, as speaking about it helps. Words—spoken or written—are  what  connect  us  to  the  world,  and  so  speaking  about it to people, and writing about this stuff, helps connect us to each other, and to our true selves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI know, I know, we are humans. We are a clandestine species. Unlike other animals we wear clothes and do our procreating behind  closed  doors.  And  we  are  ashamed  when  things  go  wrong  with  us.  But  we’ll  grow  out  of  this,  and  the  way  we’ll  do it is by speaking about it. And maybe even through reading and  writing  about  it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  believe  that.  Because  it  was,  in  part,  through  reading and writing that I found a kind of salvation from the dark. Ever  since  I  realized  that  depression  lied  about  the  future  I have wanted to write a book about my experience, to tackle depression  and  anxiety  head-on.  So  this  book  seeks  to  do two  things.  To  lessen  that  stigma,  and—the  possibly  more quixotic ambition—to try and actually convince people that the  bottom  of  the  valley  never  provides  the  clearest  view.  I wrote this because the oldest clichés remain the truest. Time heals. The tunnel does have light at the end of it, even if we aren’t able to see it. And there’s a two-for-one offer on clouds and  silver  linings.  Words,  just  sometimes,  can  set  you  free.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA  note,  before  we  get  fully  underway\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMinds  ar e  unique.  They  go  wrong  in  unique  ways. My  mind  went  wrong  in  a  slightly  different  way  to  how other minds go wrong. Our experience overlaps with other people’s,  but  it  is  never  exactly  the  same  experience.  Um    -brella  labels  like  “depression”  (and  “anxiety”  and  “panic disorder” and “OCD”) are useful, but only if we appreciate that  people  do  not  all  have  the  same  precise  experience  of such  things. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDepression  looks  different  to  everyone.  Pain  is  felt  in different  ways,  to  different  degrees,  and  provokes  different responses.  That  said,  if  books  had  to  replicate  our  exact experience of the world to be useful, the only books worth reading  would  be  written  by  ourselves. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere is no right or wrong way to have depression, or to have  a  panic  attack,  or  to  feel  suicidal.  These  things  just \u003ci\u003eare\u003c\/i\u003e. Misery, like yoga, is not a competitive sport.But I have found  over  the  years  that  by  reading  about  other  people who  have  suffered,  survived,  and  overcome  despair,  I  have felt comforted. It has given me hope. I hope this book can do  the  same. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFalling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut  in  the  end  one  needs  more  courage  to  live  than  to  kill himself.—Albert  Camus, A  Happy  Death\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe  day  I  died\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ei  can  remember  the  day  the  old  me  died.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt  started  with  a  thought.  Something  was  going  wrong. That was the start. Before I realized what it was. And then, a second or so later, there was a strange sensation inside my head.  Some  biological  activity  in  the  rear  of  my  skull,  not far  above  my  neck.  The  cerebellum.  A  pulsing  or  intense flickering, as though a butterfly was trapped inside, combined with a tingling sensation. I did not yet know of the strange physical  effects  depression  and  anxiety  would  create.  I  just thought  I  was  about  to  die.  And  then  my  heart  started  to go. And then I started to go. I sank, fast, falling into a new claustrophobic and suffocating reality. And it would be way over a year before I would feel anything like even half-normal again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUp  until  that  point  I’d  had  no  real  understanding  or awareness  of  depression,  except  that  I  knew  my  mum  had suffered  from  it  for  a  little  while  after  I  was  born,  and that  my  great-grandmother  on  my  father’s  side  had  ended up  committing  suicide.  So  I  suppose  there  had  been  a family history, but it hadn’t been a history I’d thought about much.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnyway,  I  was  twenty-four  years  old.  I  was  living  in Spain—in one of the more sedate and beautiful corners of the  island  of  Ibiza.  It  was  September.  Within  a  fortnight, I  would  have  to  return  to  London,  and  reality.  After  six years  of  student  life  and  summer  jobs.  I  had  put  off  being an  adult  for  as  long  as  I  could,  and  it  had  loomed  like  a cloud.  A  cloud  that  was  now  breaking  and  raining  down on  me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe  weirdest  thing  about  a  mind  is  that  you  can  have the  most  intense  things  going  on  in  there  but  no  one  else can see them. The world shrugs. Your pupils might dilate. You  may  sound  incoherent.  Your  skin  might  shine  with sweat. And there was no way anyone seeing me in that villa could  have  known  what  I  was  feeling,  no  way  they  could have  appreciated  the  strange  hell  I  was  living  through,  or why  death  seemed  such  a  phenomenally  good  idea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  stayed  in  bed  for  three  days.  But  I  didn’t  sleep.  My  girl-friend Andrea came in with water at regular intervals, or fruit,  which  I  could  hardly  eat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe  window  was  open  to  let  fresh  air  in,  but  the  room was still and hot. I can remember being stunned that I was still alive. I know that sounds melodramatic, but depression and panic only give you melodramatic thoughts to play with. Anyway, there was no relief. I wanted to be dead. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t want to be dead. I just didn’t want to be alive. Death was something that scared me. And death only  happens  to  people  who  have  been  living.  There  were infinitely  more  people  who  had  never  been  alive.  I  wanted to  be  one  of  those  people.  That  old  classic  wish.  To  never have  been  born.  To  have  been  one  of  the  three  hundred million  sperm  that  hadn’t  made  it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(What  a  gift  it  was  to  be  normal!  We’re  all  walking  on these unseen tightropes when really we could slip at any second and come face to face with all the existential horrors that  only  lie  dormant  in  our  minds.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was nothing much in this room. There was a bed with a white patternless duvet, and there were white walls. There  might  have  been  a  picture  on  the  wall  but  I  don’t think so. I certainly can’t remember one. There was a book by  the  bed.  I  picked  it  up  once  and  put  it  back  down.  I couldn’t  focus  for  as  much  as  a  second.  There  was  no  way I  could  express  fully  this  experience  in  words,  because  it was beyond words. Literally, I couldn’t speak about it prop-erly.  Words  seemed  trivial  next  to  this pain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  remembered  worrying  about  my  younger  sister,  Phoebe. She  was  in  Australia.  I  worried  that  she,  my  closest  genetic match, would feel like this. I wanted to speak to her but knew I couldn’t. When we were little, at home in Nottinghamshire, we  had  developed  a  bedtime  communication  system  of knocking on the wall between our rooms. I now knocked on the mattress, imagining she could hear me all the way through the  world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKnock. Knock. Knock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI didn’t have terms like “depression” or “panic disorder” in my head. In my laughable naivete I did not really think that what  I  was  experiencing  was  something  that  other  people had  ever  felt.  Because  it  was  so  alien  to  me  I  thought  it  had to  be  alien  to  the  species. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Andrea,  I’m  scared.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It’s  okay.  It’s  going  to  be  okay.  It’s  going  to  be  okay.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What’s  happening  to  me?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I  don’t  know.  But  it’s  going  to  be  okay.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I  don’t  understand  how  this  can  be  happening.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn the third day, I left the room and I left the villa, and I  went  outside  to  kill  myself.","brand":"Penguin Life","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303802196197,"sku":"NP9780143128724","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780143128724.jpg?v=1767735491","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/reasons-to-stay-alive-isbn-9780143128724","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}