Donatello

They say that everything is obvious with hindsight. Looking back, I agree. What happened should have been detected by us all a lot sooner. It wasn't just that we were distracted at the time. We were fighting life and death battles constantly. Karai had become more than a mere thorn in our sides; she was lethal and determined to destroy all of us.

Leonardo and Master Splinter had been focused on a strategy to keep Karai at a distance. I had been tinkering with my inventions and gadgets. We didn't see it coming. But we should have. Raphael had always been a loner, someone who felt things a lot more intensely than the rest of us. We thought the fresh wounds were from battles, and didn't notice his descent into a very dark place. His red eyes and frustration didn't even register until it was almost too late.

Depression is a strange and debilitating illness. I know a little about the condition, although my interest isn't from personal experience. I have read about depression and understand how it can cause a person to slide into their own personal Hell. I thought we were immune to it; people suffered with the illness. Not mutant turtles.

Besides, when did we have the time to be depressed? We were always fighting for our lives or engaged in training and strategy. The time for personal introspection was little to none, and so none of us saw the changes in Raphael until he was well past the point of no return.

Looking back, I wish I could inform my past self of what was occurring. Raphael seemed beaten down and during one of our many battles had literally given up - waiting for the fall of a sword to end his life. Leo had intervened before The Foot had the opportunity to finish him off. The lecture afterwards was legendary. Even I was cringing at Leonardo's harsh words, meant to inflame Raphael, to make him angry, to make him react.

When Leonardo realised that Raphael wasn't reacting, except for hunched shoulders as if he were expecting a blow, his voice softened and his berating ceased. He went quiet and brooding as we all trudged home, occasionally sneaking a glance at his younger brother.

At home, the episode was quickly forgotten amidst a haze of training, battle plans and strategy assessments. Master Splinter was pressing us hard; no doubt preparing us for the trials ahead.

During one training session I was paired with Raphael. Usually I would hate to be sparring with the brother who made short work of me. However, Raphael fought on autopilot; his movements almost sluggish as he blocked and weaved to avoid my bo thrusts. I was the one to win this training session, but Raphael barely acknowledged his defeat. He shrugged and left the dojo before I could get my head around his defeatist attitude.

Our fights became more intense and The Foot onslaught was ruthless. We were engaged in battles at least three times a week. It wasn't uncommon to see fresh wounds and bruises on my brothers, but Raphael seemed to be faring worst when it came to injuries. His arms were covered with cuts - raw and deep and angry. His legs were also covered with wounds, but I failed to notice them appearing daily. He would disappear to his room and return with fresh wounds, and I hate myself for not interpreting what was happening. He was crying out for help in the only way he could. Eyes red and raw and hopeless.

When a wound on his arm became infected, he tried to hide it from us at first. When I discovered this I was livid, and laid into him for not coming to me for treatment straight away. I was angry and hurt and bemused by the whole situation, and that made me lash out at Raphael more forcefully than I had intended.

Raphael bore my anger with hunched shoulders, and waited for the tidal wave to end. Then he shrugged, as was his custom now, and shuffled off to his room. For the next two hours I was seething. Hiding an infection from me was really going to make me mad. When Raphael emerged from his room, there was a fresh cut on his leg. He seemed at peace somewhat, his face still solemn and worn.

Raphael began to spend more time in his room. He wouldn't come join us for meals and we had to take something to him just to make sure he was fed. I pushed open his door with an evening meal, and discovered him sitting on his bed and twirling his sai. The sai fell from his grip when he saw me, startled, and he turned away from me as I put down a tray next to him.

His personal hygiene had gone completely. Leo had to force him into the shower, and the small daily tasks I took for granted like brushing my teeth and general personal care evaporated over time for Raphael. We all began to notice him scruffy and smelling bad but none of us had the time to pry him for the truth. Maybe we were too busy. Or maybe we were afraid it could lead to something that would be hard to deal with.

Whatever the reason, it took one fateful day to finally bring Raphael's depression out into the open. The day he finally gave up and looked for a way out, a way to die. He had planned it meticulously so his own body would remain undiscovered thereby eliminating pain to us. He had left a note saying he was leaving for South America, and would return once he had found peace again.

Leonardo, Master Splinter and myself didn't even see it coming. Karai was our main concern, and we hoped Raphael would recover and come to his senses. We needed him to be Raphael again; spontaneous, strong and loyal to the point of absurdity.

It was Mikey who saved the day. Mikey who had also been quiet during Raphael's depression. He had been watching Raphael like a hawk noting everything from the raw wounds on his flesh, to the hopelessness in his eyes. Mikey had seen where this was heading, and had been waiting for the right moment to act. It turned out that Mikey had been aware of the self-harming, and had encouraged Raph to talk to the rest of us about it. Of course, that was something Raphael couldn't do.

TBC.