편집증과 상황대처능력

A same-age friend — my co-hire, someone I'd been running a probationary project with, just the two of us — jumped to his death. Only three weeks after starting.

. .

I don't care about things outside my sphere of influence. That's why I don't watch Korean news. If I pay attention to it, all I feel is frustration, and I eventually realize there's not a single thing I can do to steer it in the direction I think is right.

Instead, for things that are within my sphere of influence — I give everything I have to realize my ideals there. My actions aren't always right. I simply believe that the choices I make are the best I can manage in the present moment, that they are the ideal choices, and I act on that belief. That's why I can live any kind of life without regretting the past. And as it turns out, I've lived reasonably well — and statistically, based on results, I'll continue to do so.

Things that fall far outside my expectations rarely happen around me. I obsessively, almost paranoiacally, think through every possible scenario for the situations around me. The thing I hate most in human relationships is misunderstanding. Sometimes I even imagine worst-case scenarios where I become the hero. For instance, I've caught people when they slipped in front of me. Once, at the stairway going down into Seolleung Station, a drunk man tumbled and fell right in front of me, passed out with his chin split open — I ran over immediately, checked his condition, called the police, undid his shirt collar and sleeve buttons, and gave him first aid.

And yet — someone who spent hours with me every single day, who was perhaps the closest person to me during those three weeks, made an extreme choice, and I couldn't stop it. I might have been the one who understood his mental state best. How could something like this happen to someone who was within my sphere of influence?

It was too sudden. I didn't know things would unfold this fast.. A 0.1% possibility existed, and I had imagined it — but I thought, surely not. There was nothing I could do.

Friday — Despair

He was an unusual person, but always cheerful — someone I could exchange courage with, tell each other we could do it, we'd get through it. On Friday he suffered one major setback and lost his confidence. But I encouraged him. I told him not to worry, that he'd absolutely pull through, that when he was with me I never failed. I said I'd help him, told him not to get so discouraged. And he thanked me, said let's do this together.

.

Was that not enough? Should I have encouraged him more, offered more comfort? Should I have listened more to his world of private imagination, understood it better, given it more weight? I feel like I did my best..

.

What if it hadn't been me — what if he'd done the project with someone with a completely different personality? What if I'd been a dreamer too, if I had despaired alongside him and he could have felt that sense of solidarity? Would things have ended differently?

Monday — The Threat

Monday. That last evening, he wasn't in a normal state. Maybe he was sending signals. There were signs of psychosis. He believed he was being wiretapped. He circled the area like a mammal pacing inside a zoo enclosure. He showed signs of disorganized thinking — whenever I asked him something or he found himself at a loss for words, he'd suddenly stand up, wander somewhere for a moment, then come back and sit down. He said his perfectly intact smartphone was broken. He said he was going to transfer to a subsidiary, make a lot of money, and spend three months looking after our own interests together.

I felt that whatever happened with this person, it wouldn't be surprising. The first thought that came to me was that I might be in danger. The next was that not just me — including himself — someone might get physically hurt. And further, that the company might suffer damage. To be honest, what I was most watchful about was the part where I could get hurt.

He left. Around 11:10. I tried to show him how to take a taxi on the company card, but he said he'd manage on his own and clocked out. I gathered with the remaining team members and briefed them on the situation. Everyone was on the same page. I said this situation needed to be taken more seriously than it might appear. We decided to report it to our team lead and section head first thing the next morning.

I got home, lay on my bed, and looked up what steps should be taken when something like this happens at work. Apparently the response should be less about HR measures and more about helping the person get access to a specialist. If someone with a fragile mind goes through a major incident or a major setback, rapid-onset schizophrenia can appear.

.

The thought that I might be in danger faded. I started to worry about him. He'd only been married three months. He couldn't be seen failing like this. If he didn't pass his probation, what would happen to him right away? Would our team lead even know what to do when I reported it? I told the team members: let's go in tomorrow, see how he's doing, prepare carefully, and tell the company in a way that would actually help him.

And then the next morning, as soon as I got to work, I looked for his seat. He wasn't there. He must be running a bit late, I thought. I waited. He was already gone.

Suicide is a truly irresponsible act. His wife, who they say had a fight with him the night before — how much guilt is she going to carry for the rest of her life? Why did he do it? If he'd lived just one more day, would things have been different? What could I have done?