Two weeks ago today my 16 year old son took his own life. Diagnosed with depression at the end of June and dead four months later. We did everything we knew to do: started him on meds, took him to weekly sessions with a therapist, checked in with him regularly to see how he was doing, tried to respect his privacy, tried to let him know we loved him, prayed, prayed, prayed, worried ourselves sick. In the end, it wasn’t enough. I don’t understand depression. I don’t understand how a well liked, good looking, academically successful, extracurricularly involved kid could believe whatever evil it was running around in his brain telling him he was stupid and worthless. In the name of Jesus Christ I raise my fist against the evil that visited my house that night. You are not welcome here. And, besides, God wins in the end. My boy is in the arms of his savior. Go to hell.