Can we always help everyone? Or does help only work when the person truly wants it?
I’d like to share with you a story that connects deeply with this question. After the February 6, 2023 earthquake, we came across the story of a man named Barış in the news — someone who had become detached from life and had lost all motivation to do anything.
Everyone was shocked by his story: “Wait, he hasn’t bathed in three years?” people asked. Many wanted to intervene; some even took action. They took Barış to the barber, to a bathhouse, and cleaned his home. Eventually, another interview was done. Barış said:
“I resisted a little, but I finally took a bath. It felt nice to be clean, but I still don’t want to do anything. Life isn’t worth living. Life goes up and down — I’m just one of those who give up.”
Originally, I wanted to write about a film I watched and loved during the pandemic. But after hearing Barış’s story, I realized I wanted to connect these two stories.
In my own life, when I see someone close to me going through a dark period, I try to help them out of that hole. I talk to them, try to motivate them, and look for solutions. But over time, I’ve realized that just wanting to help isn’t enough. Sometimes, no matter how much we want what’s best for someone, they still choose the painful path.
That doesn’t mean we should become indifferent to those around us. Sometimes the best thing we can do is simply share our thoughts, and then let the rest be up to them.
Film: All the Bright Places
All the Bright Places, adapted from Jennifer Niven’s novel of the same name, tells the story of two teenagers — Violet Markey and Theodore Finch — and their psychological struggles.
Violet shuts herself off from the world after losing her sister in a car accident. Finch, on the other hand, appears cheerful but is battling deep depression and childhood trauma.
At the beginning of the film, Finch finds Violet on a bridge, seemingly about to take her own life. But while trying to save her, he begins to face his own darkness. That moment marks the start of a journey that changes both of their lives.
As they begin a school project together, Violet slowly steps back into life. She socializes for the first time in a long while, attends a party, and even finds the courage to get into a car again — a huge step in overcoming her trauma.
Yet, at one point, Finch admits that nothing seems to be working anymore. That’s when the silent collapse begins — the moment a person’s inner strength fades, and even the smallest effort feels impossible.
Finch seeks help from the school counselor but doesn’t continue therapy. His mood swings are intense — sometimes overly energetic, sometimes completely withdrawn. The abuse he suffered as a child damaged his sense of safety and self.
Even as he helps Violet heal, he cannot escape his own pain. While Violet grows stronger — reconnecting with life, writing again, and finding meaning — Finch is slowly consumed by his emptiness.
Violet tries to save him, but Finch refuses help. In the end, he chooses to end his life. Violet experiences grief for a second time, but this time, she’s stronger. Finch has taught her to “find beauty even in ugly places” and that “it’s okay to get lost, as long as you know your way back.”
This experience helps her find hope again.
Back to Real Life
There’s a deep connection between Barış’s words — “I’m one of those who give up” — and Finch’s “I just can’t do it anymore.” In both, we see the same silent collapse.
External interventions — cleaning, care, attention — can only go so far. Help only works when the person starts to want it for themselves.
But that doesn’t mean we should stop caring. Sometimes, the most important thing we can do is simply be there — without judgment, without trying to fix, just listening.
We may not always be able to save someone, but perhaps helping them feel seen is enough.
I believe that people like Barış and Finch — and so many others who feel lost — can one day find their way back to life with renewed hope.
Until then, I hope the support and the feeling of being “seen” around them never fade.