THE ROOM WILL STILL EXIST
Depression is Manageable I have to unlock this door; the latch is rusty, the hinges are weak, and the door is soaked with tears. My hand shakes with fear; I tremble at the thought of entering. The small, damp, dark room on the other side frightens me. The small space is soundproof, and I fear the door will close behind me, and I will be locked in. I know it is soundproof; I was locked behind its door in that room, and no one came when I called for help. A silent scream for help was never heard.