The Trap of Existing
Why I Wrote Gutter Call
I wrote this book for my own therapy and as a light to others.
It has come to my attention, and I’m ashamed to say only just recently, that the rate of suicide deaths is increasing year after year. I don’t know why any individual decides to take their own life, and I’m certain it isn’t always for the same reason. If you’re reading this, it’s safe to say you’re among the living, and you may presume that nothing could be so bad as to make death seem like a viable option. I believe you’re right. But the numbers don’t lie.
Every year the rates climb, and it’s mostly men. In 2021, suicide was the eleventh leading cause of death in the United States. It was the second most common cause of death for individuals between the ages of 25 and 34, and that same age group had the second highest suicide rate among all male age groups. The only group with a higher rate? Men aged 75 and older. As a 36-year-old man at the time of writing this, I find those two groups striking. They’re separated by more than twice a lifetime, yet they share something in common.
A World That Offers Less Than It Promises
Young men are entering adulthood in a world that is constantly changing. Some argue that the change is progress; others argue it’s decline. What I’ve come to believe is that every time we “advance,” we give up a little piece of ourselves. Consider a few examples:
Social media is a powerful tool for marketing and connection, but it frequently cultivates loneliness and relentless comparison.
Fast food is quick and affordable, but its options are rarely, if ever, beneficial to our health.
On-demand delivery means virtually anything can arrive at your front door without you ever stepping outside, giving even more reason to embrace a sedentary lifestyle.
Loneliness. Low testosterone. Sedentary living. These aren’t accidental byproducts, they’re the quiet cost of modern convenience. It’s a system that isn’t widely addressed because, in many ways, it’s intentional. Don’t think for yourself, don’t improve yourself, don’t stand up for yourself, just consume what’s offered and keep moving. People are easier to manage when they’re simply existing rather than truly living.
Existing vs. Living
So what’s the difference between the two?
Existing is staying in a job you hate because it covers the bills. It’s waiting to be told what to do instead of going out and doing it yourself. It’s refusing to own your mistakes, because if you don’t own anything, you can’t be held accountable for anything.
Living, on the other hand, is taking a chance on something (or someone) you’re passionate about, regardless of the consequences. It’s accepting that life will come in waves, and that those waves will sometimes beat you down to nothing and sometimes carry you higher than you expected. To live is to find meaning in both the highs and the lows, to stay focused on your goals while remaining present in the moment.
My Own Point of Existence
My first full-time position out of college ended not long after it started. After finally graduating, I had landed a job that I found no fulfillment in, in a place I didn’t care for, earning little money with no benefits. I should have been relieved when my position was eliminated, I had no intention of working there long term, but instead I panicked. I was embarrassed. I moved away and found a job I hated even more. But it paid rent and kept the lights on, so I stayed, and I began to exist.
I convinced myself I had been dealt a bad hand, and that this was simply the life I needed to get used to. I slipped into bad habits: little sleep, no exercise, no decent food, no meaningful relationships. I often drank alone in my apartment, watching television into the early hours of the morning. I felt like I was slowly fading away. It wasn’t until I started pursuing things I could actually control (starting with my health) that I rediscovered my appetite for life.
Some might say, “It could have been worse; at least you had an apartment.” Maybe. But I’ve come to believe that some of the hardest seasons for men aren’t the moments of obvious struggle or clear success, but the long stretches in between, when we’re simply stuck in a state of existence with no true identity.
That’s why, as painful as it is to consider, it makes a certain sense to me that the highest male suicide rate belongs to men aged 75 and older. Retirement can be wonderful or devastating. When a man has poured his entire identity into a career, and that career ends, the rug gets pulled out from under him. Suddenly, he’s in the same trap, adrift in a life of existence, with no clear purpose to reach for.
Why I Wrote This Story
I wrote Gutter Call as a depiction of the trap that modern existence has become for so many men. Whether one person reads this novel or one million, my hope is that at least one person comes away from it inspired to find the light at the end of the tunnel, and to recognize that if you’re stuck in a point of existence, there is always more to pursue, and always reason to live.
A test is an opportunity to succeed. A temptation is an opportunity to fail.
And a story — this story — is an opportunity to choose which one you’ll be.
You can purchase your copy of Gutter Call here.