Depression

"Matthew was a happy boy..." His mother continued to say as she read from the paper she had being given. She glanced at her son's face from the coffin they'd put him in. She had cried the previous day and days before that. Matthew was gone, her only son, she wouldn't see him again. She cried because she would miss him so much, she cried because she knew she was responsible. She continued reading from the paper while some students from his class sobbed. She could hear them clearly, she could recognize her mother's voice. "We would all miss him, I'd miss him the most because he was my boy. Thank you for coming out to support me. God bless you" she was done. She walked down from the podium and went to stand at the coffin.

The preacher took over, informing the people about the next activities. Matthew's raven black hair laid beautifully, his cheeks were so pale and his body laid lifeless. She turned to go sit down with the people but she couldn't. She saw her neighbor Camille, she came with her 15 year old daughter and she could see the same look on the girl's face that Matthew carried for so long until he died.

She walked up to the preacher. "Can I say something?" She asked him. He looked at her keenly, he had pity in his eyes. "Few minutes please." She begged him. He nodded and walked down. She heard the people murmur as she climbed. She took a deep breath and faced them.
"Matthew was my son, my only child. When Matthew was 12, I bought him some presents, I walked to his room, knocked on the door and waited because I wanted to surprise him. He didn't come out of his room. He asked me to drop them at the door. I wondered why but I was already late for work so I left. When I came back, I found out that he'd not opened the door and seen the presents. I knocked again, when he did, his eyes were swollen from crying. He hugged me, asked for dinner, took it upstairs. I was in shock but I didn't want to make it worse so I left him. I thought to myself, it couldn't have been the bullying. I know he's come back with bruises before but my Matthew was a tough boy, he'd get through it. It couldn't be his grades too. I knew he was going to improve, so I kept on wondering what it was. I focused more on making enough money so he would lack food, shelter and his education.

By the time he turned 13, I hardly saw my son. I only saw him during breakfast which he rarely finished and dinner which he took upstairs. I talked to someone about it, I was told its a phase, it'll pass so I worried less and hoped that this phase would pass quickly. The last time I saw my son before dinner was when I went to drop his laundry and he was hanging from the roof, the rope fastened to his neck, his tongue hanging out and his body swaying from side to side." She paused and wiped the tears from her face. People were sobbing now, her mother was weeping.

"I killed my son. I killed my Matthew when I refused to pay attention, when I focused more on other things except him. I killed him when I assumed that he was strong enough to fight these wars on his own. I killed him when I did not talk to him. I ignored the signs, I ignored the messages in his silence and I paid for it with a heavy price. Matthew was a happy boy and he would still be alive if I'd done better, if I'd helped him. I thought he was too young to be depressed, he proved me wrong."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you with this talk but most of us are parents here, we have children. You don't want to pay the price I've paid for my negligence. Please, listen to your children, help them. Matthew was all I had, don't let go of who you have." She wiped the tears once more. The preacher came and gave her a hug.
"Thank you" he said to her and she stepped down.

Approximately 350million people all over the world suffer from depression, they need our help. We can start today by making the world a better, safer and kinder place. One way you can help people who are depressed is by talking to them about it and showing them love. If you notice any signs of depression, don't just sweep it under the rug or say that it will go away. Help these people. Make them feel loved. Tell them you love them and that they mean the world to you. Tell them how important they are to you and other people around them. Everyone needs to hear these words "I love you" once in a while. One other way you can help people suffering from depression is by encouraging them to get medical help.

Thank you for reading.

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Images were gotten from pixabay.com

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