Deeper

Who would suspect that the guy at your high school who was drafted for the national Under-18s football league when he was still in 9th grade, and was named Athlete of the Year by the town's sporting council, feels that all his accomplishments are worthless because he doesn't have the academic skills of his brother and sister?

Who would guess that the sunny, happy cheerleader who grew up into a sunny, happy teacher-stroke-social worker, and who has always walked with a lightness in her step as though she's never had a worry in her life, lost a boyfriend to suicide at 15, was raped at 21 and has been known, on occasion, to have conversations with dead people?

Every day I hear people pleading, with each other and with themselves: Look Deeper. Yet all too often these deeper looks are confined to those of us who already throw their pain out in front for all of us to see.

Some people choose to hide their pain, and others choose to work through it in their own time, privately, rather than wearing it on their sleeve like a badge of honour. But it's there. The fact that some people cope with it differently doesn't mean that it doesn't exist.

The woman next to you on the bus - the one with the great handbag and the brilliant smile - she has her own demons to battle, just like you do.

And for all you know, she could easily be the one whose journal you're reading now.

Don't be fooled by what you want to see. Look deeper. Or move along, and don't look at all.