A Speccy Man Has A Breakdown - day 25

Faces I drew on my day off

Listen to me reading this.

<< Day 23 (I skipped day 24)

Yesterday I took a break. Not from thinking about the book – I don’t seem to be able to do that – but from the story, the sequence of words.

Instead, I drew pictures. Two pictures, of people whose stories I covered at the Sunday Times – suicide-related stories that I carried for years with nowhere to put them.

One was of Kevin Hines, the man I told you about who jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge and survived, and who told me he regretted jumping the moment his hand left the rail. I found a head and shoulders photo of Kevin online and drew that.

He looks serious, a little pained. Perhaps a photographer asked him to look that way for a newspaper story about his miraculous survival.

Here’s the drawing:

Drawing of Kevin Hines, from a photo.

The other picture was of an elderly British couple. The husband had a terminal illness. The wife didn’t want to outlive him, so they decided to end their lives together. It went wrong. A neighbour found the wife dead and the husband panicking.

My interview with him took place in front of their daughter, who had known nothing about any of this.

I thought about them – how could I not – while I drew this:

Drawing of an elderly couple, smiling. The woman is holding a little dog.

I still don’t know if I’ll include these drawings in the book.


Today I’m back at the layout. I’ve been arranging pages, fitting text over images, making decisions about what stays and what goes.

One thing that’s becoming clear: the book has a shape. It begins with arrival – the bus journey to hospital, the friends I messaged on the way, certain I’d never hear from them again. It ends in colour: a photo of me at dinner taken by my now grown-up daughter, vibrant blue jacket, sunshine yellow tablecloth, scarlet notebook. I’m smiling. I’m still here.

Between those two points: panic attacks, group therapy, a four-year-old version of me holding my hand, and the moment I stopped calling myself something unspeakable.

One day to deadline.


Buying options and shipping costs are here. At the time of writing, there are only (ha!) 218 copies of this book available. If you know someone who might find this useful or moving, today would be a good day to forward it.


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👉 If you or someone you know is struggling please call a crisis line, and / or take a look at Reasons To Stay.

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Someone forwarded this?
Start from the beginning here.

First published: 30 March 2026
Last updated: 31 March 2026