Sammy Yatim: A Guest Commentary

I received the following as a response to one of my blog posts on Sammy Yatim, the young man gunned down a week ago by the Toronto Police. Anon's comments and insights are more powerful than anything I could have written:

Sammy...
I've wanted die...Only I was to scared to do it myself.
I pushed everyone around me to edge, silently hoping they would save me.
That night on the bus, those girls most likely ridiculed you, pushed you...as you felt you have had enough. New to Toronto, trying to fit in, left home...and nowhere to go. I know what it's like...No one understood...You allowed everyone off the bus. If you wanted to hurt someone, you had plenty opportunity...you did not. You wanted to say your're angry, and had no other means of expressing, I know...I've hurt too.
When the police arrived and you yelled obcenties, I picture myself. "what are you going to do!?" It always escalates. In my past at least. And then I am left feeling..."What have I done" It's as if I black out in rage. I still feel that way when an officer is in my rear view. I have done no wrong, yet feel complete anxiety. That night when confronted by so many officers, you realize you have really done it this time. You know your in trouble and your scared. I know. I know, because I could never control my anger. I know, because at that moment, you come slowly come back to reality.

As I watched you back up, move forward, and unsure of what do. It all seems cloudy. Your still angry, and hoping the other party realizes, I know you new they would never hurt you. You know they were going to calm you. And faced with guns pointed at me, I know I would need somebody to whisper it's okay. You were waiting for that moment, the moment when you could release the knife, as that was your only armour. I could only imagine the thoughts going through your mind. I can remember at my darkest moments of rage, coming back to reality only once I had pushed it too far, I remember thinking..."Gawd...what have I done".

Eighteen is such a young age, and so very tough. So much pain, learning love, life, and mean kids. I am always amazed at the students who say" Hey he went to my school" and shed tears, and the ones who always thought he was such a nice guy, yet probably never spoke to him as he passed in the hall. They gather at the funeral and form huddles of tears, yet while alive he was alone.

We all suffer from mental health, EACH AND EVERY HUMAN.

It's how we deal with it that seperates us from a patient. Some report it, some deal with it, some ignore it, some medicate it. We all have issues in our lives.

It's how each individual handles their stress or depression. I hope other teens feeling left with no other options are confronted with options and not left with death. RIP Sammy.