The first time I saw him, he was laughing wildly. Loudly. Unashamedly.

The last time I saw him, he was laughing again. Softly, this time. Like he was afraid something would break inside of him if he laughed out loud. 

Actually, something WAS breaking. His heart. His soul. His will to live. His mind. His spirit. Something inside of him was steadily weakening his resolve to live, eating his heart out one piece at a time, and it wasn’t cancer.

As I stare, unseeing, at the young man in the blue gloves perching over him, I remember when we’d had a blood tst done and how he’d stiffened as the needle went in. Later, I teased him saying, ‘its okay to cry, you know’. And, oh, I’ll never forget the look on his face as he said seriously ‘Men do not cry’. I’d wanted to say something. God! I wished I’d said something.

As the young man made to close the zip of the body bag, I stood abruptly. I had to see. I must; his face was still his face, only his eyes no longer held a twinkle and his mouth no longer housed a laugh. There lies my husband of the loud laugh and the boisterous voice, dead by jumping from the third floor of our holiday mansion.

The last time I’d seen him, he was laughing. Softly.

  * *        * *         * *          * *         * *

Depression is not an ‘imaginary’ illness. Do not belittle it. Do not think it would just go away. Big boys cry, I promise. So do big girls. and small girls. And everybody else. Do not be ashamed. Seek help! Talk to someone! Do not be pressured into taking your own life. Please! 

And folks out there. Please, when a depressed person talks to you about his/her problems. Do NOT laugh at them! Do NOT dismiss their problems. Listen to them. Help them seek help.

Spread Love, Understanding and Positivity!

What do you think? Is depression that ‘deep’? Does it have anything to do with ‘living a meaningless life without God’? Is there religious ‘undertones’ to depression? And why do people think ‘it is a poor man’s problem’? Or a rich man’s problem for that matter? Does the fact that you have a bed to sleep on and food in your stomach mean that you shouldn’t complain about the things tearing you apart mentally?

As usual, your thoughts in this are welcomed! Please, don’t be a stranger. Drop a comment! Let me know what you think!

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