Stay Alive, Stay Strong, and Keep Your Thoughts Positive

Yesterday, March 2nd, marked the two-year anniversary of one of my best friend’s death. 

She killed herself. 

The worst thing about this was the fact I had no idea how bad her situation was.  I had known her for over ten years.  Actually, we had never met face to face.  We were internet friends.  Perhaps this will strike home for a lot of you out there who understand the depths to which these relationships can reach. 

I loved this girl.  She was beyond intelligent (she had an IQ of 160) and could always make me laugh.  We bonded over our love of Final Fantasy X and, particularly, the character Auron.  It was weird because she reminded me a lot of him.  I always told her she was the female Auron. 

To this day, anything related to FFX will make me burst into tears and not because of the story (though it makes me sob to no end).  

Ten years of friendship, and SHE was the one pulling me along with encouraging sayings such as, “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”  She was completely anti-suicide, anti-cutting, all of the above.  She never drank, never smoked, never did anything.  

I was a cutter for most of my life.  I was suicidal for a great heap of it as well.  This woman kept me alive for a long time.  Because of her and my other best friend, I hung on when times were darkest and tried to keep my head high. 

When my back gave out and I was reduced to laying in bed for recovery, she kept me company.  The only thing I could really do was be online, even though that sometimes was difficult (the keyboard, screen, all those shenanigans were difficult at the time for me to maneuver and use comfortably).  During this, she told me she was having trials of her own.  Her mother and doctors were putting her on and taking her off all kinds of medication.  Once, even, one of her stupid ass doctors perscribed her too high a dosage of medicine; it back-fired on her and caused all sorts of psychological and chemical problems in her brain.  She had to be taken to a mental hospital until she was weened off those drugs and put on new ones.  She told me from that day on, she couldn’t smile anymore and she found it difficult to laugh at things, even when she thought they were funny.

That’s not okay.  Medication can seriously fuck you up.  I’ve seen first hand what happens when a person abuses drugs for your brain.  It can cause all sorts of unwanted thoughts that you have NO CONTROL over.  They can make you suddenly extremely sad, to the point where you really do want to kill yourself.  I know someone who almost killed herself because she was being given ‘happy pills’ that were PRESCRIBED TO SOMEONE ELSE (this someone else was forcing her to take them).  

I didn’t realize how much of a toll the drugs had taken on my friend.  I didn’t see her physically so I couldn’t see the change there.  I only spoke to her on AIM and she was very good a hiding what was bothering her.  But, here’s the thing, she never, EVER before felt the need to hide anything from me.  It wasn’t until she was dead I found out all the things she hadn’t told me. 

I wish I could have been there more for her.  I wish I could have held her.  I wish I could have done SOMETHING.  I wish I had known.  I really, really wish I had fucking known. 

Just thinking about this has reduced me to sobbing.  I miss her so fucking much.  I still can’t believe she’s gone.  

I talked to her the day before her death.  We had fun, talked about some serious stuff, but not too much.  I told her I’d talk to her the next day and she replied with the simple, “Okay, talk to you later, good night! <3”  

The next day she wasn’t online.  She wasn’t online for a few days.  Then I had an e-mail from her.  The second I opened it, I knew it wasn’t from her. 

It was from her mom. 

She told me everything.  How my friend had lied to her to go to the mall, how my friend lied to borrow her mom’s credit card… 

She did go to the mall.  But she didn’t buy what she told her mom she was going to. 

She bought a shot gun. 

And bullets.

She was parked in the back of the parking lot.  

She shot herself in the face. 

There was a note in her pocket for her mom.  Her mom was hysterical on the phone, in tears, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t believe my lovely, beautiful, talented, intelligent, loving friend was fucking gone from this world.  And I’d never, ever get the chance to hug her good bye. 

I love her so much.  She was like a sister to me.  We shared everything and laughed at everything.  We could talk serious, we could talk smack.  But, in the end, she couldn’t find it in her to share her pain with me.  

I think that’s what bothers me the most. 

That she didn’t feel she could talk to me about what was REALLY happening. 

I was her friend.  I was her best friend of nearly ten years.  I should have been the one person she could have turned to. 

I cannot, CANNOT fathom how lonely she must have felt with all that pain built up inside of her. 

All because some idiots gave her drugs she shouldn’t have been taking and fucked up her brain forever. 

My point?  Be careful with drugs.  Be careful with doctors.  But most of all, my point is this: 

Reach out. 

Don’t do this alone. 

Don’t you dare, ever in your fucking life, think it’s okay to take your own life.  Don’t think for a second you’re utterly alone.  Don’t believe for a moment your pain is so much, so vast, and so deep that nothing can cure it. 

I’m here for you.  I may not even know you, but I AM HERE FOR YOU.

I want you here. 

I want you here for as long as you can be. 

I want you to live your life. 

I want you to do all the things you’ve wanted to do with your life. 

I WANT YOU TO LIVE YOUR LIFE. 

A lot of people won’t talk about suicidal thoughts because society views this as people wanting attention.  No, you want HELP.  I know this because I’ve been there before.  I know what it feels like to not want to tell anyone, to think they’re just going to harass you and say you’re full of it and just want attention. 

I will never, ever fucking do that to you. 

NEVER. 

If there’s any type of comment coming from your mouth about cutting, suicide, burning, or anything of that nature, you can bet your ass I’ll be there with some warm cocoa, a funny movie, and all the hugs you could ever want. 

I’m so serious. 

Stay alive.  

Stay here. 

Life is beautiful.  There’s assholes here, there’s bad people, and there’s bad situations, but you can ignore those people, you can get through those situations, and you can live your life to the fullest.  Keep your thoughts positive, especially the ones you tell yourself.  Don’t talk down to yourself— you don’t deserve it. 

Talk to yourself as you would a loving friend.  If you’re not, then you’re doing the very opposite of living. You’re destroying.  Yourself.  And that’s not fair.  

You have as much of a right as ANYONE on this fucking planet to live and live the life YOU want. 

Don’t let anyone take that way from you. 

Including yourself. 

I love every single one of you. 

From the bottom of my heart, I really, truly do. 

I want you to stay here. 

You can’t imagine the whole that’s been ripped inside of me because of the death of my friend.  It will never be filled.  It’s there, gaping, and a reminder of the love I lost.  I will never forget that woman, I will never forget what she meant to me, and I will never forget the dreams she never got to live.