I am 22, and I feel that we live in a very bizarre time. I can post photos of myself on a website where people can look and express their approval with a “like.” I can make my life appear however I want, make myself seem busier, cooler, smarter, more beautiful, happier. People see the highlight reel of your life. This is a huge part of my generation and younger generation’s way of relating to one another.

About a year and a half ago, I drove myself to the emergency room. I told them I wasn’t feeling safe and I was thinking about hurting myself or killing myself.

I was in the hospital for 11 days.

I have struggled with severe depression and anxiety, among other things, since I was 10. Part of what precipitated that episode of suicidal ideation was the almost chilling regularity with which my Facebook feed was filled with things like “RIP, you will be missed” and “Hope you find the peace you were looking for.” Tribute photos, sad statuses and declarations of love and affection were everywhere. In my self-obsessed, depressed brain, I couldn’t help but think, “If I died, would people say nice things about me? Would people care? Is dying the only way to wake people up and make them care?”

There have been a handful more deaths and suicides in the Vashon community since my stay at the hospital. The response has slowly changed to more people trying to reach out to the living and offering to talk, offering help, trying to promote awareness as the problem has reached such a scary magnitude. This is wonderful. While there is only so much you can do to help people who are clinically depressed, the effects of reaching out and checking in are never to be underestimated.

I guess my hope in writing this is that someone who is struggling or trying to hide a part of who they are will see this and maybe feel some sort of kinship or similarity. Also to maybe give a voice to those of us who feel vulnerable, misunderstood and like life has dealt us a difficult hand. Thanks for taking the time to read this.

— Zoey Rice