[1] Why I Disappeared for Three Years

Everything seemed to be going my way: best-selling author, a TV show, friends, crazy parties, profitable businesses, and an investor club. In truth, I was silently suffering, until it all collapsed.

(Reading time: 10 min)

If you are reading these words, it means that three years have slipped by since our lives last intertwined.

Three years of silence, three years in which I withdrew from public life, shrouded in a veil of mystery I did not have the strength to dispel.

Until today.

Many have sought me out. Some with a simple question: “Are you okay?” Others, more persistent, wanted to know what projects I was planning, which new path I was walking, and, above all, why I had disappeared so suddenly, without a word, without a farewell. Perhaps you wrote to me as well. If so, I thank you.

The truth is I didn’t have the words to explain it.

How could I explain why, from what seemed like the pinnacle of my career, desired by so many, I chose to disappear, dissolving like a breath in the air, leaving no trace?

Everything seemed perfect

From the outside, I was living an idyllic life that many aspire to.

I had a beautiful girlfriend and friends scattered across the globe. I traveled wherever I desired, from the United States to South Africa, crossing continents to attend extraordinary events: the magnetic chaos of Burning Man, the pulsating energy of raves, the hidden worlds of underground festivals.

I moved from the spotlight of stages to the large screens of conferences and television, to conference halls filled with attentive and curious faces, eager to hear my worldview.

…everything seemed to be going wonderfully.

I had brought flourishing enterprises to life, invested in startups, and wrote three books, one of which became an international best-seller, drawing attention from the BBC, the Wall Street Journal, and even Japanese media.

I collaborated with industry giants like Google, Lufthansa, IBM, and provided consultancy to prestigious institutions such as the Economist Intelligence Unit, the Italian government, and the Policy Unit of the European Union.

…but what was missing?

I hosted a regular column on Codice, a program on Rai1, national TV in Italy, with millions of viewers. Hundreds of thousands of people listened to me and followed me on social media.

And then the constant invitations, to participate in hundreds of events around the world, from NASA in California to prestigious universities, from São Paulo in Brazil to Bocconi in Milan.

Friends. Fame. Success.

From the outside, I seemed to
possess all that people aspire to.
Yet, behind it all, I suffered in silence.

It appeared that I was fulfilled, yet within me there was a call I could not ignore, a sense of responsibility that stretched beyond my ambitions, beyond even my own life.

I tackled themes that strike at the very roots of existence: our mission in life, the future we ought to build, and the need to find balance with the Earth. I founded the Zeitgeist Movement in Italy and was among the first activists of what would later become the Five Star Movement, which become the ruling party in Italy and dominated politics for almost a decade. I mobilized thousands of activists, year after year. And yet, both left me with a bitter disillusionment. The values I held dear were betrayed, corrupted, and the leadership revealed itself to be distant from the ideals that had inspired my commitment.

I exposed myself without reservation, putting everything I was and everything I had on the line. I gambled with my savings, my image, my energy, my time. Every risk that others would have considered foolish, I took upon myself. I faced financial uncertainty, legal dangers, and that invisible weariness that consumes those who throw themselves into an quest greater than themselves, without a safety net. I felt like Don Quixote, a solitary fighter against an indifferent world, armed only with my conviction and my ideals.

Why this sacrifice, this stubbornness?
What was I trying to prove?

I kept telling myself I was doing it for the world, to build something better. Many say they want to do good, to make a positive impact. But how many, truly, put everything on the line? How many risk their money, their reputation, their lives for an idea?

I did.

Every shred of my time, every drop of my energy, I dedicated to this mission. Yet, inside me, a shadow grew. The weight of this mission, coupled with the corruption and disillusionment I found in the world, began to wear me down. Slowly, without even realizing it, I started to extinguish. Inside, something was fading. A silent, invisible erosion, unstoppable.

Was I truly doing this for the world?
Or was it, instead, my own heart, wounded and insecure, yearning for redemption?

A constant, paralyzing pain lingered within me, one I tried to escape through work, through a ceaseless flow of tasks, each more demanding than the last, as I sought to prove to myself—and to others—that I could endure. But what was I truly trying to prove? To do what, exactly? I didn’t know.

In my confusion, driven by a fierce desire to make a difference, I threw myself into every endeavor. I ran forward, relentlessly, pushing my body and mind to the breaking point. Yet I couldn’t summon the courage to pause, to slow my pace, to turn inward and listen to the turmoil brewing within me.

I began to experience panic attacks for the first time. And then they grew, until they became a daily constant. I would spend hours paralyzed, terrified, lying in bed, unable to do anything but breathe deeply and wait for that nightmare to pass.

And then, they would return. Sometimes triggered by a word, a message received, or even without any apparent reason. The weight of stress and sorrow grew unbearable, until it led me to the edge, a silent threshold I could no longer pretend to cross. Challenges arose that shook the very foundation of my existence, forcing me to question everything.

I gazed into the abyss more times than I care to recall, I walked the shadowed path of depression, tasted the bitter fruit of failure, and even considered ending it all.

Then, one day, something extraordinary happened, and everything changed

In that instant, I saw the truth: the life I had been living was not my own. It was but a hollow, fragile construct, designed to impress others.

So I left it all behind, vanishing into the silence for three years.

The second most searched query on Google after my name is literally “Whatever happened to him“

What could drive a man, at the peak of his career and success, to turn his back on everything, without regret, without hesitation?

It is difficult to imagine how, three years ago, I could have comprehended the state in which I find myself today—on the ridge of my fortieth year of life, still holding the gaze of a child, yet bearing the weight of a consciousness that has endured sufferings, any one of which, taken alone, might be enough to break a man.

Language, alas, reduces the infinity of awareness to mere symbols, representing thoughts, or at times—though rarely—emotions, but never capturing the pure, unfiltered essence of being. Aware of this limitation, more of my inadequacy than of English itself, for which I beseech your pardon, I now endeavor to describe, as much as possible, certain thoughts, emotions, and stories, in the hope that a glimmer of that essence I feel within might, in some way, travel magically from my depths to the rough surface of these pages—whether for my delight in writing, or yours in reading.

These past three years have been, and still are, transformative.

I have pondered long on whether and how I might ever emerge from this state of mysterious seclusion, almost ascetic, within which I sought refuge for my weary, battered body, and my shaken soul, weighed down by traumas accumulated over three decades—like a traveler who endlessly carries heavier and heavier luggage, adding more without ever shedding any, until one day his poor back gives way, leaving him helpless at the roadside.

At the beginning of this journey, still a boy, I cursed the misfortunes that befell me. Now, with the wisdom of a man, I see them with new eyes, and I recognize them for what they truly were: a blessing.

These misfortunes gave me the
greatest gift a man could desire
— THE SUPREME FREEDOM.

Freedom from the most ruthless and violent prison, the most insidious and cruel one—the prison of the mind and thoughts, of desires and misunderstood emotions, of unconscious reactions to which we are all enslaved, and which a few unfortunate souls are lucky enough to discover.

I write these words with the awareness of a man who has finally seen the bars of this invisible prison, though still far from the detached gaze of the enlightened, who fully realizes the total illusion—that the prison itself is but an illusion. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Forgive me—or better yet, take delight—in this human impatience of mine to which I am still fondly attached, like an old friend who refuses to grow up but whom you accept and cherish nonetheless. Let us return to the steps of our journey.

I say “our,” though it is mine, because by reading these words of mine—so intimate, so vulnerable—you have become a companion on this new journey we undertake together, from which you, too, will emerge transformed. I cannot know in what way, for this path is yours, not mine. What you have chosen to embrace, to listen to, does not belong to the mind but to a deeper space, one that few dare to inhabit, and one you have decided to explore simply by taking the time to read these lines. No one can predict the effect these words will have on you, but I rejoice that you have chosen to do so—to take a pause from the frenzied chaos of so-called modern life, and to enter a place where impulses and the lure of instant rewards hold no sway; a place where time stretches, and the essence of things can finally emerge.

It is a personal, intimate story.

A story of suffering and tragedy, but also of joy, compassion, and love. It’s a journey of death and rebirth, real and raw, that touches the depths of the soul and lays everything bare, without reservation.

It’s a timeless story, of which I am merely a vessel.

These past three years have been a beautiful adventure, leading me to leave everything behind, shut down my businesses, give up travel, highly paid consulting and conference invitations, break up with my girlfriend, and leave the place I once called home.

In the end, I found myself staring into the eyes of the traumas and fears that had paralyzed my spirit for years, and began the long journey toward their healing.

This led me to embark on a new adventure, an inner journey that first ventured into the dark realms of depression, groping for even the faintest glimmer of light in the shadows.

Through that narrow opening, I found a path towards spiritual awakening, a profound process of healing that ultimately brought me to a rebirth.

It has been—and still is—a journey laden with challenges, a difficult one. I moved in uncertainty, unsure of where to go, what to do, or whom to turn to. I collided with countless obstacles, stumbling into mistakes that seemed to multiply with every step. There were times when I felt lost, stumbling through the darkness, without direction, without purpose.

Yet, bit by bit, a change began to emerge. I learned to extend compassion toward myself, to see my failures and mistakes not as foes, but as teachers.

I quieted the ceaseless noise of my mind, silencing the obsessive thoughts and relentless judgments. And when silence began to carve its way through, I found the courage to truly listen—to open my heart to myself, and in turn, to other people.

This journey led me to a radical turning point. Doors opened, both within and beyond me—doors I hadn’t even known existed. And beyond those thresholds, I discovered realms so extraordinary, so radiant, that even my boldest dreams could not have conceived them.

This extraordinary journey took me to the depths of the soul, into ascetic solitude, to retreats so incredible they seemed almost unreal. I became part of magical experiences that science struggles to explain, lived as a Buddhist monk in a monastery in Thailand, and reached levels of awareness and emotion I never thought possible.

Today, after three years, I write these words with a quiet strength, a serene determination, and above all, a peace that once seemed so distant—light-years away from the suffocating grip of suffering and despair that once held me, almost leading me to the edge of it all.

I had no inkling of what was to come. Nor could I have imagined how devastating the fall would be. I wasn’t prepared. Yet, life has a way of teaching us what we need to know, of giving us what we truly require, not necessarily what we want. Sometimes, this lesson arrives in the form of a blow so fierce it steals your breath. Other times, it overwhelms you entirely.

Everything I had been until that point—the life I had meticulously built, the victories won, the recognition achieved—seemed insignificant in comparison to the inner journey that lay ahead.

But I will tell you about that another time. Because everything I’ve shared with you so far is but the prelude. The true story begins now. If you wish to walk this path with me, you will discover it in the next chapter.

In the weeks to come, I will share the actual story of my journey, which is still unfolding. I chose to name this journal “In Love with Life”, as it captures the essence of what I discovered on that fateful day that turned everything upside down, transforming it. Since then, this discovery has followed me like a submerged current, silent and unrelenting, flowing through every moment, every breath of my days.

Since that day, I have embraced the moment and the magic of life. I live each day as if it were my last. Each morning, I ask myself:

If today were my last day, would I be proud of how I live it?

If you don’t already, I hope that, after reading this story, you will one day ask yourself the same.

–Fede

🧘🏼 💛 🤸🏼