21 years ago this summer I nearly died by suicide because I knew I’d never be happy again. Today I put away the dishes then stood in the garden and let summer rain soak me to my skin. I felt so alive and quietly euphoric I wanted to reach back through time to tell me I was wrong. It’s scary to talk openly about mental health. Some instinctively don’t like it. Others may be ready to mock your vulnerability. But the scariest thing is to NOT talk. To lock it up inside and pretend it is okay until your brain implodes. So I will never be ashamed to talk.