Reasons to Stay Alive

Reading Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig felt like sitting down with a compassionate friend who understands the deepest corners of despair yet also offers an unwavering sense of hope. It’s not your typical self-help book—there are no neat tips or steps to overcome depression. Instead, it’s raw, honest, and deeply personal, making it feel much more like a conversation about survival and healing.

Haig doesn’t shy away from the terrifying reality of depression and anxiety. Early in the book, he describes his own experience with mental illness, which hit him hard in his mid-twenties. He recounts the days when he felt that life was too painful to live, when anxiety and panic were suffocating, and when suicide seemed like the only escape. It’s this unfiltered honesty that makes the book so powerful.

But what I appreciated most about Reasons to Stay Alive is how Haig balances the extremes. As much as he delves into his struggle, he also holds up the small moments that kept him going. The title itself is a promise that there are reasons to stay alive, even when it feels impossible to believe in them. One of the core messages that stuck with me is that pain and joy can coexist. Haig doesn’t pretend that everything suddenly gets better or that there’s a quick fix for mental illness. Instead, he shows that it’s possible to live alongside it, to endure the bad days, and to embrace the good ones when they come.

What I found particularly moving was Haig’s reflections on time. He emphasises how crucial it is to wait through the hard moments, even when they seem unbearable. His concept that “things will change” is both comforting and empowering. He writes about how, at his lowest point, he couldn’t see a future where he would be okay. And yet, he stands as living proof that those feelings, as consuming as they are, can be temporary. That’s one of the most important takeaways of the book: that time does heal, even if slowly and imperfectly.

Haig’s style is very approachable. The book is written in short, digestible sections that jump between past and present, between prose and lists, and from fact to personal insight. I loved this format because it mirrors how mental illness can feel—fragmented, disjointed, and chaotic. Yet despite the structure, there’s a clear thread of hope woven throughout the narrative. One moment you’re reading a list of reasons to stay alive, the next you’re learning about famous people who suffered from depression, and then suddenly, you’re back in Haig’s head as he recounts his darkest times. The variety keeps the pace moving and makes it easy to pick up and put down, which I imagine is important for many readers who might be struggling themselves.

At times, the book can feel repetitive, and there were moments when I wished Haig dug a little deeper into some topics. For example, while he touches on the impact of depression on his relationships, he doesn’t explore this as deeply as I would have liked. I wanted to know more about how his loved ones supported him (or didn’t) during those dark periods. However, I also understand that this book is more about the individual experience of mental illness than it is about those around us.

Ultimately, Reasons to Stay Alive is not a manual for “fixing” depression. It’s a testament to survival. It’s a book that says, “I’ve been there, and I’m still here.” And sometimes, that’s the message people need most. For anyone who has battled with mental illness or knows someone who has, this book feels like a lifeline. It doesn’t sugarcoat the pain, but it also doesn’t let you sink into it without offering a handout. Matt Haig’s vulnerability is a reminder that none of us are truly alone in our struggles and that in itself is reason enough for most.