At this time, a year ago, I was in my bed, crying my eyes out, without stopping. I couldn't eat anything, I couldn't go to school the next day, I just cried throughout the day and throughout the night, and the next morning as well. I was in a depression myself at that time, and when I heard the news of your suicide, I hit rock bottom. At first, I just cried and desperately scrolled through the articles like so many others, searching for a sign of hope. But after hours had passed, my cheeks raw from the salty tears and the wiping, I wasn't just sad, but also angry. As I was depressed, I understood you so well and it angered me. Because I believed so strongly, and I still do, that you didn't have to die. It was not you who took your life, it was society killing you slowly. If only the world had been a little more open, more loving, more understanding... if only we had listened, you could still be here.

I struggled with my depression for months, years, sometimes feeling so alone, as if nobody understood me. Nobody knew how serious it was. Nobody understood that I couldn't just get up and decide to be happy. That getting me to school was only making things worse. That I couldn't just be healed. That it wasn't that easy. But after a while, I got therapy. I talked to my friends and family, although I usually didn't say much, because it was too hard. But slowly, I got better.

Now, I am healed and happier than ever before. For your sake, I kept going. It wasn't easy, sure. There were many times I didn't see any way out, and I wanted to escape but I didn't know how to. But as I thought of you, how you raised your voice in one last cry for our sake, I knew I had so much to live for. I wanted to change this world, even for just a little bit. Just a few weeks ago, I held a presentation in class about the stigmatization of depression, anxiety and other mental health issues. I talked about how I had been depressed, and how important it is to speak up, and how it is even more important for the other party to listen. I almost cried, but I finished it proudly. We are not alone in this.

Now, while I am tearing up writing this, I am happy and I'm sure you would have loved to see that. While I still get emotional talking about these things, I can look back with a smile. I have seen some dark times, and so have you, but I am now stronger than before and I hope to inspire people like you did, so that no more sacrifices have to be made. That's why I can now look at my depression and proudly say to it: Hi, thank you, goodbye.

You worked hard. Rest well. I love you.