Because it needs to be talked about. Depression needs to be accepted as real and difficult, and needs to be talked about. As does the potential consequence of living with it.
It was later on Sunday evening, the 7th of December 2014 when my cell phone rang. It was next to me on the couch. My battery was low and I couldn’t answer it but I saw that it was my sister Carrie. We had just talked a few hours earlier about nothing really, just our Dad and how old he was. We joked that he didn’t look his age and that we were inheriting good genes from him in exchange for bad knees and hips. When I saw her calling I remember thinking that was weird because if she forgot something, she would of sent a text. As soon as I had that thought the house phone rang. Our landline. Which no one calls except telemarketers. Without even seeing the phone I knew it was her. I told my hunny to toss me his cell so I could call her…
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Behind starburst eyes 
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