There would have been so much room for him to try to heal his pain. He hadn’t even scratched the surface of his struggles. He hadn’t tried and failed; he simply hadn’t tried yet. He hadn’t gone to therapy, not even once. And he certainly hadn’t attempted suicide before—no overdose, nothing. No cry for help. The truth is that he hadn’t recognized the depth of his depression until it was already too late, and he went straight for a gun. The finality of that was so deeply shattering and confusing.
