Over two years ago a girl went missing in Toronto. I remember it well. She was all over the news and I watch the news for a living. She was Mariam. The police were searching everywhere and her parents were beside themselves.

Today she was back in the news. Earlier this week Toronto police found human remains and today they confirmed it was Mariam. They found her at the bottom of an overpass, they had no reason to suspect foul play, it seemed she had been alive when she fell.

And again, I can’t stop thinking about her. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And no one knew.

She was 17 and she appears to have decided to take her own life, and it appears that for the two and a half years she was missing her family never suspected she would do such a thing. If they had never found her, maybe her parents would have wondered until the day they died who had taken her or why she ran away.

And as someone who has been suicidal, who fights depression and who is now a mother with a daughter that has a good chance of also suffering, my emotions are running away with me today.

She needed someone to talk to, she didn’t want to upset her parents, she didn’t want them to know she was flawed or diseased or abnormal. She didn’t tell anyone.

And she left her parents behind with nothing but grief and questions.

What if my daughter doesn’t talk to me? What if my daughter decides she can’t show me the dark side of her personality?

How can I do enough to make sure she’s safe and secure and that she won’t hurt me by feeling all the dark things I have felt – so long as she lets someone help her.

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