I remember when I first experienced a loss by suicide. I was probably around 12 years old. We had a friend who would often come over just to hang out. We’d sit outside or in the garage kicking back listening to our boom box. Yes, I said boom box. For those of you young folk who don’t know what that is, google it. Haha. Anyway, we would talk about school and things we wish we could do or what we were going to do when we turned eighteen. I mean seriously, raise your hand if you couldn’t wait to turn eighteen. That was the magic number. Once we hit that age, nobody could tell us what to do right?! So, we each had our own plans and we wondered if we’d still be friends or a part of each other’s life in some way or another. Then one day our friend didn’t show up. No big deal, maybe tomorrow. Nope, not tomorrow either. Next day (day 3) we get a phone call, our friend is in the hospital, in the intensive care unit. WHAT!!!! What happened? A self inflicted gun shot to the head?!?! Why?? What do you mean Depressed?? I didn’t sense any depression. Are you sure? Is our friend going to make it. Sadly, no. I never got the chance to even say goodbye. And that is what really scares me about depression. Some of us are so good at hiding it until it’s too late. Please, be more involved in the lives of those you love. You won’t always be able to see the signs, but sometimes it can be as easy as asking us if we are ok. If we are short with our answers and you get a weird tingly feeling that something’s not right. Ask again. Don’t let us shut you out. We need you more than you know. We might get mad or irritated but sometimes by you not giving up, it could just save our life.