Anger came barging through the door like an uninvited guest. Anger at the world for letting this happen, at the schools that fail to teach mental wellness in an impactful way, and at myself for not knowing how to save her. It’s a sharp, destructive feeling that left me bitter, short-tempered, ready to lash out. Why didn’t more people understand the seriousness of teenage depression? Why were so many schools sitting on the sidelines?
Back then, I used to write about our journey with Maddie. It was the only way I could process the anger and sadness. I needed to give voice to the chaos inside me and try to understand how life could be so cruel. Writing became my outlet, a space where I could rant, cry, and occasionally find a small glimmer of hope.
Enter empathy, the unexpected friend
Empathy, though, was a more surprising guest. It arrived quietly, in the form of messages from other parents going through their own struggles. Some were facing similar losses, while others were living with the constant fear of it. Their stories opened my heart even more, but they also softened the edges of my pain. I realized that I wasn’t alone in this brutal journey.
Over time, I began connecting with parents around the world—people who had also turned their pain into purpose. They’d lost children, siblings, and friends, and they, too, were grappling with a world that had become unrecognizable. Their courage to speak up gave me the strength to find my voice and keep talking about Maddie, even when it hurt like hell. The anger began to share its space with empathy, and I started to see how these two emotions could work together.