I know of at least two people who passed away in the last couple weeks whose deaths few people talk about.

It's all kind of quiet with the occasional post expressing sadness and shock. When the cause of death is not mentioned, there is usually a more ominous reason that we prefer not to discuss. 

We don't press the issue, choosing instead to let family and friends grieve in peace. Some of us can't help but wonder, because of the cultural identity of the people involved, whether bullying was involved either in this life or inter-generationally. 

Bullying is still insidious in our society, even though we have a greater awareness of it and it is no longer considered acceptable. We try to encourage its victims to speak up and not suffer in silence. Still, we see its effects all over our streets, many in our homeless population who have been the objects of public ridicule since colonization began. The colonizers were the perpetrators and many people on the streets live with the shame. 

I was subject to bullying in the last few weeks, so I understand the sadness and depression suffered by many of these people. But I am lucky. I have support and people who reached out. Many who are its victims do not have the same support and are afraid to speak up because the perpetrators can be public or authority figures. No one validates their suffering and so they live with their pain in silence. 

I know that after my bullying incident, I too slipped into depression and despair. I thought it was me forgetting that the behaviour of the other was wrong. As the despair grew, I cried often and questioned the purpose of life. Was it worth it when you saw this person yelling and screaming every time you closed your eyes? Trauma. 

Maybe I too enjoy white privilege. I was not afraid to ask the police for help. They did respond and called to make sure I was OK. How many others are afraid to approach the or other authority figures for help because of that fractured relationship? Sometimes, the very authority figures we turn to for assistance are the same people causing the problem.

I was lucky because the people I talked to believed me and offered help. But like others, because the person is a public figure, I questioned whether I should speak out, but the pain from not doing that was worse. As bad, the well-being of others had been put at risk. The choice was obvious. 

It was in that place of darkness that I understood what it must have been like for people who were abused by teachers, priests, and other respected figures and turned instead to substances to relieve the inner turmoil. You cannot heal from those things that are not brought to the surface.

In recovery circles, they commonly say that you cannot go around trauma, only through it. It is only by taking it apart piece by piece that healing can happen. 

Reflecting on how I felt during my darker hours, I remembered that there are still no treatment centres in the Northwest Territories other than the local wellness centre. Too many people still live in their own darkness with no one to validate them or their experiences, so we see them on our streets. I know that when things were black for me, I was thankful I did not drink because dealing with the inner turmoil was so difficult. 

I am lucky that there are resources out there for me and friends who reached out. But how many do not have the same luxury and how can we provide that? If there is one person suffering, we will all suffer because in one way or another, it comes back to haunt us. 

In the meantime, we need to continue to encourage people to speak out when they have been hurt and as a society, we need to provide the necessary supports. When they heal, we all heal. 

After all, we are supposed to be on this journey together.