What We Do
Reasons to stay alive is a collection of letters, written by strangers, for anyone who is struggling to stay.
It exists for days when being alive feels heavy.
For moments when you feel alone, exhausted, or unsure if you can keep going.
These letters aren’t here to fix you or tell you what to do – they’re here to remind you that you are not alone, and that others have felt this way too.
This project is dedicated to Jan.
Jan was more than my childhood friend — he was family. He was woven into the fabric of my life in a way that helped shape who I am today.
Some people pass through your life; Jan became part of its foundation.
He had a rare kindness about him, the kind that wasn’t loud or performative but simply part of who he was. His heart was generous and open. He was always there when someone needed him, always ready to share a laugh, a story, or a moment that made life feel lighter and when he smiled — that beautiful, warm smile — people felt instantly at ease. Being around him felt like being welcomed home.
Music lived inside him. He could sing the most beautiful notes, the kind that made you stop and listen, because they carried something real. There was a gentleness in everything he did — in his hands, in his words, in the way he treated people. Jan smiled easily, laughed freely, and loved deeply.
What made him even more extraordinary was the quiet strength he carried. Even while holding his own pain, he continued to give so much of himself to others. That was simply who he was — someone who showed up with kindness, warmth, and love, again and again.
And that is how I will always remember him.
This space exists because I often find myself wondering what might have been different if Jan had been able to read words like these. Not letters he left behind, but letters written for him — words of care, understanding, and quiet encouragement from people who loved him, or those who may never have known him, yet who would have wanted him to stay.
Sometimes I think about what it might have meant if those words had reached him in the moments when the weight he carried felt too heavy. I like to believe they might have softened something inside him, even just a little. That perhaps a few gentle words — even from a stranger — could have calmed his soul enough to help him hold on for one more moment, and then another.
I choose to believe that words have that kind of power. That kindness, when it finds its way to someone at the right time, can remind them they are not as alone as they feel.
And that is why this space exists — in the hope that someone, somewhere, might read these letters and find one small reason to keep going.
If you’re here right now, please know this:
You don’t have to decide anything today.
You don’t need to feel hopeful or strong.
You just need to stay for this moment.
If you are in immediate danger, please reach out to a local crisis line or emergency services listed below:
Emergency Contact Numbers
112 – General emergency number for life-threatening situations, including severe mental health crises. Offers a 24-hour psychiatric emergency service; self-referral
or doctor referral is possible.
1579 – National Mental Health Helpline – Available 24/7, staffed by psychology professionals providing free emotional support, advice, and guidance.
1770 – Richmond Foundation Helpline – Offers emotional support and practical guidance, available 8 am to 8 pm Monday to Friday, and Saturday until 4 pm.
179 – Supportline (Aġenzija Appoġġ)
24 hour helpline providing immediate help, information,
and referrals for social services.
Online and Chat Support
Kriżi App – Mobile app providing mood tracking, anonymous chat, coping tools, and emergency contact to professionals
Kellimni.com – Anonymous online chat platform available 24/7, offering psychological support.
Online chat service by Richmond Foundation, available Monday to Friday 8 am–8 pm, Saturday 8 am–4 pm.
This site is not a replacement for professional help – but it is a reminder that you matter, and you’re not alone.
You’re allowed to stay.