So, I had a friend in Middle School. She was perfect.

So damn perfect that it hurt to look at her sometimes.

She was smart, she was funny, she didn’t hole up like a snail when she talked to boys,

and she had “friends” coming out of her ears.

Still, I was the only one who knew.

Who knew about the tears in the bathroom, between classes, during lunch time

when everyone else was talking about who likes who and which guy is the cutest.

I was the only one who knew that at home she wept.

Like really wept.

As in eyes red and puffy like she had gotten punched in the face by life.

I was the only one who knew that it wasn’t the cat who cut her. The ONLY one who knew.

Suicide.

You are cringing now, right? A harsh word for an even harsher deed.

That perfect girl? She committed suicide.

People say “They just had a bad day” or “They’ll get over it.”

Do you call pretending to be asleep until your parents go to bed

just so you can go to the bathroom and cry your eyes out a bad day?

What about sitting in the shower and slitting your wrists like

your skin is a canvas and the razor a paintbrush?

Going into your room, locking the door, and swallowing a bottle of pills?

That’s not a bad day.

That’s depression.

When your mind is filled with so many damn feelings that you feel as if there’s

an atom bomb, ticking away inside of you. Your heart, Hiroshima, your mind, Nagasaki.

The inner war is making you go crazy. Readying you to burst into a million tiny pieces

of hate and regret. When everything seems so complicated!

“Get over it.”

Get over it? Seriously?!

Could you get over being sucked into a black hole where the only stars you can see are

taunting you? Could you get over having your entire body be covered in a wet, wool blanket

where you can’t even fricking BREATHE let alone move?!

Could you get over being dragged into a deep dark hole and being left there to slowly rot?

I didn’t think so.

Most people learn about depression in school... about bullying and gossip andrelationships

and how those can cause repercussions like ripples in a pool,

spreading ever outwards until you hit the sharks.

But, not many have ever reached those sharks. Looked into their giant gaping mouths

and thought

“I give up”

That perfect girl? She was perfect. But she didn’t feel like it.

People avoided her because she was so damn perfect.

People gossiped about her and who she was going out with

She had no best friend. Her parents ignored her.

I was the only one who knew.

It’s not just a bad day.