Paranoia and Crisis Management

A peer from my cohort—the same age, working with me on our training project, just the two of us—took his own life. Only three weeks after we started.

. .

I don't concern myself with things outside my sphere of influence. That's why I don't watch Korean news. If I engaged with it, I'd only feel frustrated, and eventually realize there is nothing I can do to steer things toward what I believe is right.

Instead, for things within my sphere of influence, within my domain, I do my best to realize my ideals. My actions are not always correct. I only choose what I believe is the best choice I can make now, and trust that it aligns with my ideals. Because of this, no matter how I live, I cannot regret my past. And as it happens, I have lived well, and statistically speaking, I will continue to do so.

In my immediate surroundings, things rarely unfold in ways I haven't anticipated. I think through every possible scenario paranoically, obsessively. What I hate most in human relations is misunderstanding, and sometimes I even imagine myself as a hero in worst-case scenarios. For instance, if someone slips in front of me, I catch them. Once, at the Seolleung Station stairway, a drunk man fell down the steps and was unconscious with his chin split open—I immediately ran over, checked his condition, called the police, unbuttoned my shirt collar and cuffs, and administered first aid.

And yet, I couldn't prevent this. A peer I spent many hours with every day—perhaps the person I grew closest to in those three weeks—made an extreme choice. I may have been the one who understood this person's psychological state best. How could something like this happen to someone within my sphere of influence?

It was too sudden. I didn't know it would happen so fast. There was a 0.1% possibility that I had imagined, but I thought surely not. I had no way to intervene.

Friday — Despair

He was a unique person, but he was always bright, someone we could encourage each other with and say we can do this. On Friday, he suffered a major setback and lost confidence, but I lifted his spirits. I told him not to worry, that we would absolutely pull through, that if he stayed with me, I never fail. I promised to help him, asked him not to despair so much. And he thanked me and said let's do this together.

.

Was that not enough? Should I have given him more encouragement, more comfort? Should I have listened to him more, understood his inner world, and given him more strength? I feel like I did my best.

.

What if I hadn't been me? What if he had done the project with someone of a different temperament? What if I had been a dreamer too, what if I had despaired alongside him and lost confidence, sharing in his emotional state? Would the result have been different?

Monday — Threat

Monday. That evening, the last evening, he was not in a normal state. Perhaps he was sending signals? Symptoms of psychosis appeared. He thought he was being wiretapped, and he paced around like a caged mammal in a zoo. Symptoms of incoherence showed—when I asked questions or he lost his train of thought, he'd suddenly stand up, wander somewhere else for a moment, then return and sit down. He said his smartphone was destroyed, though it was fine. He talked about going to a subsidiary to make a lot of money and scrounging together some earnings with me over three months.

I felt that in his current state, anything could happen and it wouldn't be surprising. The first thought that came to me was that I might be in danger. Next was the thought that not just I, but he himself and others could suffer harm. Further, the company could be damaged. In truth, what I was most vigilant about was the possibility that I could be hurt.

He left. Around 11:10 p.m. I tried to show him how to book a taxi with a burner phone, but he said he'd figure it out himself and left for the day. At that moment, the remaining team members gathered and I shared what had happened. Everyone was in agreement, and I argued that this situation needed to be taken more seriously than we might think. We decided to report it to the team leader and division head first thing the next morning.

When I got home and lay in bed, I searched for what measures to take when something like this happens at work. Rather than personnel measures, it said we should help them get professional medical treatment. It said that if someone with a weak mind experiences a major event or major setback, acute-onset schizophrenia can appear.

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The thought that I might be in danger faded. I began to worry about him. He'd only been married for three months—if he's seen failing at this, it's not supposed to happen. What if he doesn't pass his probation? What do we do then? When I report to the team leader, will they know how to respond? I told my teammates: let's come in tomorrow, check on his condition, prepare carefully, and inform the company in a way that actually helps this person.

And the next morning when I arrived at work, I looked for his desk. He wasn't there. I thought maybe he'd be a little late and waited. He was gone.

Suicide is truly an irresponsible act. His wife, with whom he fought the day before, will have to live burdened by how much guilt? Why did he do it? If he had just lived one more day, would things have been different? What measures could I have taken?