Sitting on the edge with both feet hung over the side. Hands on the ledge beside you, ready for anything. Off in the distance there’s a stream of people coming: laughing, joking, smiling, not a care in the world. You reach out, but with just one hand because you’re terrified to let go of the edge. Terrified to let go of that which is familiar. Terrified to feel even more helpless than you already do… wait. Can you feel more helpless? Can it get any worse?

Put the thoughts on hold. The stream of people are here. Your outstretched hand crying for help in front of them. A quick high-five from each and every one of them as they shuffle by. Not a smile, not a kind word, not stopping to ask if you need help, they just simply flow by. You lay your hand back down on the edge, not noticing that your grip is a little looser than before. It seems like no time before the thoughts flow back. “what if I was gone?” No. that’s dumb. Of course people would miss me, of course people would do something. But look! More people are coming by.

The thoughts have to go back on hold as you reach your hand out. But wait, you find yourself not being able to reach as far because your grip isn’t strong enough to support you. Is the first person in the group stopping? They’re coming over to help. High-fives are coming but not from everyone. Maybe…three-quarters? Maybe… half? The first person is still talking, still helping. My grip tightens back up a little bit. Oh, he has to go. Wouldn’t want to lose his company. Nobody likes to walk alone. Why even stop if you’re not going to stay?

All the hope you once had seems to vanish. Without a single thread of idea on how to get it back. Your hands are laying on your lap. It doesn’t matter how hard you’re squeezing them because the ledge seems miles away. Why would you try and hold on when nobody will hold onto you? Is that another gang of people coming?

I would reach out but without a grip I can’t. My head hangs low as people pass by without a second look, without a second thought, without an idea that anything is going on. There’s no high-fives this time. Not half, not a fourth, None. But my hands are reaching down to grab the edge again. The stream of people are long gone. Nobody would know what’s about to happen. It’s a 10-second journey to fix all of your problems. But the people are coming by again.

"Where did he go?” they ask as they look over the edge. Some may cry. Some may have nice words to say. “He had so much potential”, “I wish I had gotten to know him better.”, “I wish he had just reached out for help.” But they soon turn and keep walking. As if nothing had happened at all…

It’s so often that people are overlooked in times of need. What may seem like screaming for help to them could be brushed off as nothing or insignificant. In reality, it’s the little things that matter the most. It’s the little things that can mean the difference between life and death.

But it’s not all on one individuals shoulders to notice. You’re never alone if you reach out for help. No matter how broken you may see yourself, no matter how bad you think you are, no matter how hopeless you believe yourself to be, there will always be someone to help.