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Undead: A Memoir of My Suicide
A revealing memoir about the complicated truths of surviving a suicide attempt and rethinking the concept of “suicide prevention” to create a world that people want to live in
Madeline Vosch did everything she was supposed to do when the suicidal thoughts started. Or she tried. Between studying, working three jobs to make rent, navigating the impossible bureaucracy of Boston’s welfare system to access food stamps and nominally affordable mental health care, there was not a moment she was not fixated on survival. One night in April 2018, weeks before her graduation from Harvard Divinity school, she walked home from a party with a single to take as many pills as she could stomach, and never wake up.
But then she did. And she was left with a what now?
In Undead, Vosch deftly weaves together lyric prose, memoir, and cultural commentary to tell the story of what happens after a suicide attempt. Here, she sets off on a journey to find her kindred spirits in surviving the end of a story, investigating the various scripts she encountered in the weeks and months after her attempt—from other works of art that touch on the topic of suicide, to Christian theology, to medical texts, to episodes of ER, to the news cycle as reports of increased suicide rates confirmed her she was not alone in her attempt, even if she had no one to talk to about what came after. She might be changed, but what did that matter if the world that had ground her down wasn’t?
Vosch turns the concept of “suicide prevention” on its head, asking what it might look like to reconceive suicidality as a response to a social problem. She challenges us to incorporate "prevention" into a larger social vision that intersects with increased access to housing, to food, to healthcare—in short, creating a world that people can and want to live in.
Madeline Vosch did everything she was supposed to do when the suicidal thoughts started. Or she tried. Between studying, working three jobs to make rent, navigating the impossible bureaucracy of Boston’s welfare system to access food stamps and nominally affordable mental health care, there was not a moment she was not fixated on survival. One night in April 2018, weeks before her graduation from Harvard Divinity school, she walked home from a party with a single to take as many pills as she could stomach, and never wake up.
But then she did. And she was left with a what now?
In Undead, Vosch deftly weaves together lyric prose, memoir, and cultural commentary to tell the story of what happens after a suicide attempt. Here, she sets off on a journey to find her kindred spirits in surviving the end of a story, investigating the various scripts she encountered in the weeks and months after her attempt—from other works of art that touch on the topic of suicide, to Christian theology, to medical texts, to episodes of ER, to the news cycle as reports of increased suicide rates confirmed her she was not alone in her attempt, even if she had no one to talk to about what came after. She might be changed, but what did that matter if the world that had ground her down wasn’t?
Vosch turns the concept of “suicide prevention” on its head, asking what it might look like to reconceive suicidality as a response to a social problem. She challenges us to incorporate "prevention" into a larger social vision that intersects with increased access to housing, to food, to healthcare—in short, creating a world that people can and want to live in.
288 pages, Hardcover
Published April 28, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
July 16, 2026
I expected this to take me a while to complete, because of the heavy topic, but I finished it in 2 days. Vosch has an interesting, iterative writing style, she returns to the same scenes, themes, and texts throughout the book, but each time with a different takeaway, sometimes building on the last takeaway, sometimes diverging. Reading this book sort of feels like going down a spiral, but not with the negative connotations of “spiraling,” more like the sort of reflective state that comes from walking through a labyrinth. A difficult text because of what it asks of us, and Vosch’s absolute refusal to provide tidy answers. Highly recommend, I’ll be thinking through it for a while.
June 2, 2026
If you are the friend or family member of someone who's survived a suicide attempt, if you know nothing about suicide or mental health care in the U.S., if you are a therapist or psychiatrist, I implore you to read this book. You'll be fascinated and horrified. And you'll come out with a better understanding of people who are far too often misunderstood.
Having experienced suicidal thoughts most of my life, I was immediately drawn to this story, but I truly hope it is those outside of my demographic who pick up Undead. The knowledge it contains on topics that are often left ignored, or too feared to talk about, is invaluable.
Having experienced suicidal thoughts most of my life, I was immediately drawn to this story, but I truly hope it is those outside of my demographic who pick up Undead. The knowledge it contains on topics that are often left ignored, or too feared to talk about, is invaluable.
July 15, 2026
The author tried to kill herself for reasons. She didn’t succeed for reasons. UNDEAD is about what happened afterward, and also before.
It’s heavy, and fraught, and lyrical, and aching, and gorgeous, and smart. Vosch went to Harvard. She drowned beneath the weight of her loans. She worked multiple jobs at the expense of having any kind of life. She couldn’t afford to eat. She loved people completely. The people who were supposed to love her didn’t. There are unsent letters included here, and Bible stories, and a pain that now lives in my bones too, because it’s up to all of us to make this a world worth living in.
A real-life horror, and one you best not look away from.
It’s heavy, and fraught, and lyrical, and aching, and gorgeous, and smart. Vosch went to Harvard. She drowned beneath the weight of her loans. She worked multiple jobs at the expense of having any kind of life. She couldn’t afford to eat. She loved people completely. The people who were supposed to love her didn’t. There are unsent letters included here, and Bible stories, and a pain that now lives in my bones too, because it’s up to all of us to make this a world worth living in.
A real-life horror, and one you best not look away from.
July 9, 2026
The book didn't work for me at all. It felt almost like a waste of time, and I still can't understand the reasons behind its high rating.
The first part was confusing — I didn't understand what she was getting at. I expected some kind of deep reflection but instead got a few events that took place in a hospital after the suicide attempt, all enveloped in a disproportionate amount of rambling about religion. It was almost an unstructured stream of consciousness.
Then the book turned into a long narrative about abusive parents, struggling siblings, a deprived childhood, and the consequences of such an upbringing that ultimately led to the suicide attempt.
Well, maybe I've just consumed too many books like this, but it all felt so basic, so clichéd — not raw enough to stand out.
Especially annoying was that she kept calling her partner "beloved," as if the only significant thing about this person was that she loved them. At a certain point, it drove me up the wall, and I just wanted her to stop using that word.
Didn't live up to my expectations even a tiny bit.
The first part was confusing — I didn't understand what she was getting at. I expected some kind of deep reflection but instead got a few events that took place in a hospital after the suicide attempt, all enveloped in a disproportionate amount of rambling about religion. It was almost an unstructured stream of consciousness.
Then the book turned into a long narrative about abusive parents, struggling siblings, a deprived childhood, and the consequences of such an upbringing that ultimately led to the suicide attempt.
Well, maybe I've just consumed too many books like this, but it all felt so basic, so clichéd — not raw enough to stand out.
Especially annoying was that she kept calling her partner "beloved," as if the only significant thing about this person was that she loved them. At a certain point, it drove me up the wall, and I just wanted her to stop using that word.
Didn't live up to my expectations even a tiny bit.
July 18, 2026
As a suicide survivor, I feel so seen. This book is a love letter to everyone who has felt that suicide is the only way out, and a call to action for everyone else. Vosch's writing is beautiful - lyrical and stark. I was only a few pages in when I knew that this book would have an important place in my heart and started telling all my people to please read it.
As Vosch states, affordable housing is suicide prevention. Food security is suicide prevention. Living without fear of deportation is suicide prevention. Anti-racism is suicide prevention. But our health care system, along with the rest of our deeply flawed society, makes mental health an individual problem, and then sets up barrier after barrier against individuals struggling to survive. If we as a society really care about people, the systems need to change.
As Vosch states, affordable housing is suicide prevention. Food security is suicide prevention. Living without fear of deportation is suicide prevention. Anti-racism is suicide prevention. But our health care system, along with the rest of our deeply flawed society, makes mental health an individual problem, and then sets up barrier after barrier against individuals struggling to survive. If we as a society really care about people, the systems need to change.
June 10, 2026
I feel like it’s cliched to say to call a book of this type brave, but there are few other words to describe how courageously Vosch approaches one of the heaviest conceivable topics. It is revealing, it is honest, it is thoughtful. She brings together these threads in a way which is fundamentally beautiful, but also nuanced drawing on a range of biblical, literacy, and critical works. Moreover, for a book dealing with such a heavy topic, it is a page turner. I echo what others have said both here and on the book jacket: this is an important book that provides a raft of valuable information told in a way which is not preaching or judgemental, but merely makes things.
May 24, 2026
Undead promises a fearless and deeply thoughtful exploration of survival, mental health, and the social conditions that shape despair. Madeline Vosch appears to blend memoir, cultural criticism, theology, and lyrical reflection to challenge simplistic narratives of recovery and rethink what “suicide prevention” might truly mean. Honest, intellectually sharp, and emotionally resonant, the book seems poised to make a powerful impact on readers interested in memoir, mental health, and socially engaged nonfiction.
October 18, 2025
Harrowing, completely without flinch, this may be the most uncomfortably human book I’ve ever read. And so beautifully written: "What did it feel like, the coming back? It felt like rutting in the leaves for months, mouth to the ground, eyes in the dirt, searching for anything at all that could guide me forward." So straight, exasperated, ongoing, a testament and a call to understanding.
July 12, 2026
I loved this book, as depressing as it was. I love the author's writing voice, her cadence, her sincerity. Yes, some passages are repetitive, but that's one of the things that make the story ring true. Someone who has gone through her ordeal would rehash her past actions over and over again. I hope Vosch makes good money from her memoir. She deserves a break in life.
May 26, 2026
An important book. I'll add some more thoughts later.
July 7, 2026
A fearless examination of poverty as a major driver of the mental health crisis in America.
July 28, 2026
In the interest of everyone's mental health I will refrain from posting a review. I hope the author is doing better.
April 17, 2026
Suicide carries particular weight and stigma in public discourse. Vosch knew this and understood the difficulty not only of writing her own account of trying to die, but of facing the barriers to publishing a book of this nature. She persisted—in writing, in pitching, in living—despite the circumstances stacked against her. Vosch resists the urge to sensationalize or aestheticize suicide, rejecting reductive certainty. Undead is a necessary, veracious memoir that bears witness to her death and stares her own resurrection in the face, while urging a more honest understanding of what real suicide prevention might look like.
Review of advance copy received from Author
This entire book is a gut punch. It tackles a tough subject with humor and straightforwardness that knocked me off balance in the best way.
It’s a deep, introspective look at the author’s experiences before her suicide attempt and what comes after, from her time committed in a mental hospital to the outpatient group where she finally found people who understood her, and beyond.
The author links her stories with both high art and pop culture, making every internal experience relatable. Her language is lush yet precise, too. There are some light moments of humor. (My favorite: a cop asks why she did it, and she replies “Why the fuck do you think.”) I also learned a ton of interesting facts, like what exactly happens in the psychiatric unit once you’re committed. (They can keep you there indefinitely?! Especially scary when you realize some are for profit…) And, of course, the ultimate message of the book is that no one is alone, which is incredibly moving and encouraging.
A real stunner of a memoir.
It’s a deep, introspective look at the author’s experiences before her suicide attempt and what comes after, from her time committed in a mental hospital to the outpatient group where she finally found people who understood her, and beyond.
The author links her stories with both high art and pop culture, making every internal experience relatable. Her language is lush yet precise, too. There are some light moments of humor. (My favorite: a cop asks why she did it, and she replies “Why the fuck do you think.”) I also learned a ton of interesting facts, like what exactly happens in the psychiatric unit once you’re committed. (They can keep you there indefinitely?! Especially scary when you realize some are for profit…) And, of course, the ultimate message of the book is that no one is alone, which is incredibly moving and encouraging.
A real stunner of a memoir.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews