Its on us

Another one becomes a victim of depression. You know, that thing that’s in your head and not really there? That illness for which there is no blood test or xray or ultrasound? The one where everyone tells you to keep busy, stop acting, don’t be so selfish, turn to prayers? Yeah, that imaginary illness people have. It claimed a life, once again. There were calls for help. Silent cries saying, “I am drowning. My lungs are filled with water and I can’t scream. But you see me. Save me.” And we just tell her, “Swim!” And then when the person dies we call it suicide. Tell yourself whatever you need to feel better. But its never suicide. It’s our collective negligence and selfishness that wants to avoid problems and brush them under the rug.

We killed her.

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