the unhappy part

Part three: This is the unhappy part. I found out today that my junior Honors English teacher died a few days ago. She was pretty young and I was surprised and sad, to say the least. And then I found out she killed herself by hanging. And I stop thinking when I type those words. It turns out she had been dealing with depression for years--not that any of us would have guessed. It scares me. So many people I love are dealing with depression and other things that no one would guess. I want to reach for all of them to say "I'll help you," but I'm just as scared that no one will reach for me. But I will help you, if you let me. I love you. And yes, this is an obnoxious plural "you," but I really do mean it. I apologize for assuming that I could help anyone, but I wonder if the same thing would have happened if we all hadn't been thinking "She was the happiest woman I knew." A facade is a dangerous and scary thing.