An Apology to My Friends for the Times I’ve Been Suicidal
Editor's Note
If you struggle with self-harm or experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741. For a list of ways to cope with self-harm urges, visit this resource.
Dear friends,
I know I am not an easy friend to have. I’m often surprised you’re still friends with me after all this time, and sometimes question if it’s just because you feel you have to be, even though you tell me it’s not. I know that on the nights I am suicidal, it can be especially hard to be my friend. I know those nights have been frequent lately. I’m sorry.
For when I call you, sobbing, unable to catch my breath, I’m sorry. For not being able to explain to you what’s going on, because I barely understand it myself, I’m sorry. For when I text you telling you I want to die, I’m sorry. For the graphic Snapchats you get when all I want to do is harm myself, I’m sorry. For hanging up on you while we’re on the phone because my anxiety is hitting so hard, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I know you have a life and I know this is 100 percent not what you want to be dealing with at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. I know it certainly can’t help that this happens more often than either of us would like. I’m worried you think I’m being dramatic or that I’ll be fine because I’ve had so many of these nights before and I’m still alive. It doesn’t make the current pain hurt any less, though. On these nights, I truly can’t imagine living to see one more day, and sometimes I am very ready to make sure I don’t ever see another one. I know I’ve survived a lot of these nights before, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt just as much.
Despite all of this, I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really wish I had better words to say thank you because there are none that truly tell you how much your friendship means to me and how powerful it is. On these nights, you keep me alive. You are my lifeline. You are the light in so much never-ending darkness. You are the breath of fresh air when I’m drowning, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. You are the reminder of truth in a mind that is so full of lies. You keep me alive, even when I hate you for it.
So, thank you for answering the phone. Thank you for sitting with me, even if it’s just in silence while I cry. Thank you for telling me that better days are coming, even though I don’t believe you. Thank you for reminding me of my worth, which I don’t even think exists. Thank you for telling me how far I’ve come, even though it feels like I’ve gone nowhere. Thank you for making sure I take my medicine without trying to end my life. Thank you for helping me put the instrument of self-harm down. Thank you for being my friend, even when my depression makes me a terrible friend in return sometimes.
I wish I wasn’t still dealing with this, and I promise you I’m still fighting like hell to come out on the other side. And I know, if I do, I’ll be coming out stronger. But I wouldn’t be coming out at all if it wasn’t for you. On the darkest nights of my life, you are there to make sure I see the morning. I know being my friend is hard, and I wish it was easier. But please know you are the reason I am still here. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much.
Getty Images photo via AntonioGuillem