thoughts i had

Someone doesn't just decide to take their own life at the age of 22, out of the blue. There are clear signs. The days leading up to the decision are obvious cries for help.

I didn’t know that boy, but I know the situation well. I’m disturbed, outraged that no one comforted him, hugged him – not just to say that everything would be alright, but to keep him here, to keep him alive. That no one stopped him. I’m furious that no one convinced him to stay. But at the same time, I’m not surprised. Most people aren’t prepared to do so, and many don’t feel responsible for doing so. A depressed person is never anyone’s responsibility.

But in the missing person post, several comments say ‘they’ll find him’, ‘everything will be alright’. It's clear you're writing this just for yourself, to relieve your conscience, to feel that you did everything you could, and then you'll carry on with your life as if nothing had happened. It won't be alright. You know that, or you prefer not to think about it. It already isn't alright.

On the obituary post, hundreds of condolences. Dozens of true friends for life, of unforgettable moments, of strength for the family. But not a single one of these people stood between him and his desire to disappear. They must have been busy. They didn’t think it important to speak to the true friend who hasn’t been in touch for weeks. To the friend who no longer leaves the house. To the friend who has been acting differently in recent meet-ups.

And the very same people who offer such heartfelt condolences will return to their lives, behaving in exactly the same way, working tirelessly as cogs in the life-destroying machine, in the day-to-day struggle of every man for himself. Given time, they will return to their malicious comments, to arrogance disguised as empowerment, to belittling their peers, to treating people like video game characters, like supporting actors. And when the next kid is gone, they will offer their sincerest condolences to the family.

The lives of these young people don’t matter. Only death matters, because with it we can make comments, get likes; we can appear, to the world, empathetic. Saving a life doesn’t come with the same privileges. We are sick.

Such a treatable disease. But nobody wants to look after the sick.

People only care about the dead.