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All the adults will tell you, "Don't be a bystander"
We see people who are depressed around us every day. They talk about suicide and self-hatred with an easy joke, others only laugh and agree.
"Same."
We tell ourselves that our thoughts are normal, that the people around us are going through the same problems while we suffer in the coves of our broken shelters, praying that some future will drag us out of our depressive states.
If I get accepted to this college, I will be happy.
If I am skinny, I will be happy.
If I'm in a relationship, I will be happy.
The broken waves of reassurance push us away from the darker waters, a semblance of hope during a time so trying yet not trying enough. Adult life will be more miserable, so be grateful for our youth, no?
Our friends tell us their thoughts of suicide. Each one comes forth with their experimentation with knives against the thin layers covering their veins. Each one tells a tale of starvation, the dragon they sleep next to unknowingly yet willingly.
Tell a teacher, a trusted adult, a counselor.
Do not promise them that you won't tell others about their thoughts, no matter what trust you'll have to break.
But do they all know the truth behind the wards, that each student is locked in for depressing days or weeks stuck in a bed, away from their friends. Intervention is the key for their survival, perhaps, but do the feelings subside when a bill costing thousands reach the steps of their door.
The school will teach you that your depression comes with the price of falling behind. The hospital will tell you that your depression is expensive and is something that only the financially stable can afford.
You will learn to not tell the teacher of your friend's depression.
Make do with your scraps, society is not waiting for you.
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