“I’m scared.” Her words tumble out. Their weight seem to outweigh her physical form, and she holds our eye contact with large, searching eyes as she repeats the words again, this time with more emphasis. “I’m really scared.”
I nod my head. I know why she’s scared.
We can’t see depression. And because we can’t see it, we don’t know where the bottom is.Read more "“I’m Scared”"