This is a random rant/confession of mine. It isn’t well written or planned. The people I mentioned in this are not bad people and I don’t think I portrayed them fairly. Despite what I describe here, we also had great times together, times I never regret spending with them. They are good people. We just grew apart. I still love them dearly with all of my heart.
I had these two friends that I met in college. They were amazing people and they became my best friends in college. During move in weekend, we and a few other new friends had a sleep over and we all stayed up late watching movies and talking and learning about each other. It was a wonderful start to a great friendship, and from then on the three of us were inseparable.
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end.
After we came back from winter break, things were different. I’m not sure how or why. They just were. I’m pretty sure it was me. The day before before I moved back onto campus, I found out that a family member had died. I arrived on campus wanting an escape. I was in denial and all I wanted to do was hang out with my friends and forget the world. However, the life had other plans. The night I moved back, my two friends decided to have some edibles. It wouldn’t have been so bad had they not eaten so much. One of them had a small panic attack and felt that she couldn’t breathe. She collapsed onto her now boyfriend’s arms gasping, “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. After she calmed down, I left her with her boyfriend like she asked me to and walked away, but not after making sure she was feeling better. As a walked back to the room with a friend, I couldn’t help but cry. I thought she was going to die and I broke down. Tear’s poured down my face like waterfalls, and between sobs I cried out “I can’t handle anyone else dying right now.” The next day, we had a retreat for our club and they all acted almost like nothing happened. They lightly joked about it and it upset me a bit. I had worried and cried so much the night before and here they were joking about last night’s events.
I think that was the beginning of my down ward spiral.
The next weekends I found out that another family member died and that a very close family friend was recently diagnosed with cancer. After that, I slowly became distant. I slowly started to craw into a shell, into depression. They were a bit worried about me, but not enough to ask me about it. While they were out, going to the mall, having dinners, and hanging out, I was in my room just trying to not to cry myself to sleep. Instead of seeing me visiting them almost every second of every day, they were lucky to see me at all.
I knew I was getting bad, and eventually I asked for help. It was the day of the Color Craze on campus, an everyone was getting their white shirts on for the event, and I was in my room alone. I called my two best friends and told them to meet me in my room. When they came up, I told them about the recent deaths in my family and started tearing up and eventually started bawling my eyes out. They then reached out to grab me and pulled me into a comforting hug, and while engulfed in their hugs I felt at peace, like everything was going to be alright. Then we heard music from outside and they both let go, saying that the event was starting and that they should go, that we would talk more later. I said okay, and gave them a pitiful smile. A part of me was happy that I had told them the heavy burden that had been weighing my heart down, but a part of me was also devastated that they decided to put me on hold to attend an event.
It wasn’t until a few days later that we three got together and had a heart to heart. I openly and willingly opened up to them. I told them all my fears, doubts, and my deepest, darkest secrets. I had told them that I was depressed and that I knew I needed help. I told them that I almost started cutting and was starting to have suicidal thoughts. Here I was telling these girls, who were strangers a few measly months ago, things I would never tell anyone. I must have been crazy. But they were very supportive, and comforted me, and it made me feel better.
Then I found out that someone else had died and I went back into my shell and refused to leave.
And nothing happened.
Nobody came to check up on me.
Nobody asked where I was, or when they did they only asked once.
I felt like nobody cared. I felt worthless. I had poured my heart out to these two people, people who I thought were my best friends and cared about me, told them my deepest darkest fears and they didn’t even come to check on me. Instead, they played a mean prank on me, and it hurt. I had told them I was depressed and had suicidal thoughts, and they acted like they didn’t care. They left me behind. As if I was brick tied to them that kept them from floating, they just cut me off.
That was when I really spiraled out of control. I had become antisocial, depressed, and cynical. I had become detached to the people around me. All I could ever think about was giving up. Every time I saw an open window in a building, all I could think about was, “I wonder if I could die from jumping out of that window?” Every time I went to the beach, all I thought was, “I bet if I swam into the water and stayed underwater, no one would miss me.”
I think I would have done those things too, if it hadn’t been for a friend who stepped up and showed that she cared. She saw that I had somehow changed and she took it upon herself to find out why and tried to fix me, and I’d like to say she did. I am a lot better now than before, and it’s all because of her. She has never left my side, always caring about me. But she isn’t the only one. I found and became closer to two other friends during my low times. They never gave up on me, never, which I am incredibly thankful for. I know can be hard to handle at times, but for some reason they never left me behind. They were always willing to slow down their steps so I could catch up to them. They saved my life.
Things aren’t as bad now for me. Some days are worse than others. Night’s can still get bad, but I know I’ll pull through. I now have three people that I know will always pull me out of the quicksand called depression and save me.
I don’t talk to my two best friends that I was talking about earlier that much anymore. I see them during club meetings, but that’s it. It’s usually a simple “Hello” and “Goodbye” now. We make polite conversation when we are around each other, but that’s about it. I don’t think they ever forgave me for crawling into my shell, and in a way I don’t blame them. I had gone into depression during my freshman year in college, the year that is supposed to be fun and amazing. You aren’t supposed to worry about people you barely met being depressed during your freshman year. You’re supposed to go out and drink, have fun, make mistakes. Me being depressed had tied them down when they didn’t want to be. And I guess, I get it. I understand that they had their own lives to live and didn’t have time to help me with mine. But then again, I don’t think I ever forgave them for not being there for me when I needed them most. I think that is why our friendship fell apart.
Life is hard and shit happens. We all just have to be strong enough to pull through somehow, and having the right friends by our side will make things a lot easier.