Dear Suicidal Friend,

July 10, 2017

 

***This post can be disturbing and morbid. But it's very real. It is a struggle that I, along with many others go through with having a loved one suffer from depression. Before anyone says anything, my friend seeks professional help and is on the appropriate medications, or so that is what we both believe. I hope to find others who can relate. And if you are THAT suicidal friend, then please help me understand, because I care and with each passing day I fear that I might lose my friend. ***

 

Dear Suicidal Friend,

 

“We both know I won’t last even a year… Maybe a few months. I love you, no matter what.”-said Friend.

 

Two nights ago you sent me a text that I only dare think to myself about and would never speak of out loud. How could you have known that I would even put a countdown to how much longer you would fight? Deep down I truly had no clue. But a year, 365 days, can go by in a blink of an eye for most people, but I know for you it feels like an eternity. To me, your text was almost random but I know that for you, you’ve been obsessing over this thought for many years now. A thought that I could only imagine. Thoughts that I would only think would be in movies or stories that crazy and imaginative authors would ever write. But these thoughts are very real to you. They are in your head and there's not amount of counseling or drugs that could ever cease the ideas that drains your soul and pushes you to the edge of the Earth, literally.

 

Friend, please tell me what I am supposed to do? How much longer do I have to respect your wishes and never call a hotline because I am lost, untrained, and don't know how to help you in this situation? I don't ever want to betray you. But if it means saving your life is to call for help, is that betraying you? I don't know when your texts and phone calls is a cry for help or if it's just another normal bad day. So I sit here, with my phone on high volume, fighting my sleep at times just because I have a feeling your thoughts are a bit stronger than you can handle. Then, I remind you. That these are JUST thoughts. I can't fathom your pain. I can't at all. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Because to the outside world, you look like a normal beautiful person with a sweet soul, soft spoken with a respectable job, have your shit together enough to afford your own apartment in a big city. You are composed. But this battle you fight everyday, I wish you didn't have to fight it alone because if I could I would pick up that sword and fight it with you. I am fighting the best way I know how and that's not saying much, is that even safe?

 

Friend, you are not alone, you are well aware of this fact. As stupid as it sounds and as impossible as it seems, you are not the only one in the world who feels this way. I wish you all could come together and realize that you could all care and love one another and get through this together. But sadly, people don't normally come together like this because it would be an illness they are too ashamed to show and would prefer to hide behind the forced smiles and lies of being okay when all you want to do is die. 

 

I care for you. For my own selfish reasons, I would never want you to take your own life because you are my truest friend. I will sit in that dark corner with you and hold you until you’re ready for fresh air again. I will never judge you for all of your scars that you’ve created. But I will never hand you a razor blade, I won’t drink alcohol with you anymore, and I will always help you clean your home, pick up groceries and run errands for you until you’re motivated enough to leave that bed and get out of your home.

 

The one thing that I absolutely loathe, are the things that you say sometimes, “it can cost three grand to fly a body across the country. I won’t do that to my mother, or my cat. Haha he’d eat me! HAHAHA.” You laugh in text and my heart drops. There is nothing funny about what you said. It scares me. It makes me feel as if I am talking to a dead girl. I don’t have a response and I know you’ve seen the “read” notification from my end.

 

I was lucky enough to have met you 2 years ago, since then we’ve become best friends. It wasn't easy to get to know you because your walls were completely up and I continued having to peel more and more layers of you to understand what it is you were going through. When we were strangers, slowly becoming acquaintances, I remember telling you that I was sorry that you feel as if you needed to go through this alone. I know we didn’t know each other and you probably thought that I was nosey, maybe I was. But seeing you in this much pain, walking in on you crying and pretending that I didn't hear you as you clear your throat and discreetly wipe your tears away and try to stabilize your voice, that hurt me.

 

Friend, how will I ever know if you were gone. You’re alone, across the country. Sometimes you ignore my call and most times it takes you hours to respond to my text. It’s annoying how slow of a texter you are! I am reminded to be patient and to understand that this is normal behavior, “she’ll respond in 12 hours or less.” is what i keep telling myself. And then there are times that i can’t help but wonder if you cut too deep and it’s too late.

 

Friend, please. I love you and I care about you. If no one else does as you tend to believe, know that I care for you. Isn’t that enough?? Isn't it enough to know that you have family who love you and two loyal friends who would do anything for you? In my eyes, you have more love than I do, but it's not a competition about who is the most loved. It’s about having someone who actually cares, even if it is only a handful. Some live life without ever having genuine friends with each others best interest at heart. It hurts me and frankly annoys me when you don't think we are enough. You are busy chasing things, obsessing over the idea of wanting more people to love you when you have so much already. You are preoccupied with wanting more that you can’t even enjoy what you do have. If nothing at all, I wish one thing from you. I ask that you begin training your mind and attitude towards life, little by little, to love the things you do have. Like your cat, or the love from your family including the newest addition to your family, me and your other friend, your apartment that you are able to afford on your own, your skills of managing a team of loyal employees, your car, your city, the air you breathe in, your beautiful surroundings, and your ability to love others and put others first.

 

Friend, we are meant to be friends because mentally I can handle your eerie thoughts and I don’t react when you tell me you hurt yourself. I only want to know if you will be okay enough to make it through the night. But what you shared with me one time made my heart sink, your experiences usually do but this one took the cake. Especially that time when you wanted to experience being on the brink of death. Remember, when you carefully calculated the dosage of how much you can take without it actually killing you. JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD FEEL LIKE. The out of body experience you felt, not being able to take control of your own body when your mind is commanding a response to no avail? Do you remember how sick you felt? Do you remember telling me that you actually didn’t want to die like that? That made me happy to hear that. And in a sick twisted way, I am glad you experimented like that because you actually FOUGHT to stay alive. But then I am overwhelmed again because you said, you didn't want to “die like that.” The next question is not, “do you still want to live?”, it's “how else would you want to die?”. I need to accept that this cycle will not end anytime soon. Just tell me what I am supposed to do when that time comes. I will try my very best to fulfill your wishes while doing the right and legal thing. But the veil between what is right and wrong is so thin that I am lost. I love you.

 

Love,

 

 

Someone who cares.

 

Please share this with someone who is going through this. On either end. It helps to know there's a community of people who are going through the same thing. 

 

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