this is a letter to my best friend who passed away 8 years ago today. tw: suicide
To my other half who didn’t survive
This is the reason why I dislike being called a survivor, and people making that seem better than being a victim. I may have survived, but that doesn’t make me better than those who didn’t.
8 years ago today, you passed away. My other half, my best friend in the entire world, my soulmate. After years of daily trauma your body and mind couldn’t take it anymore. You had tried reaching out for help for years at that point. You had switched schools more times than you could count. You had moved to stop them from finding you again. You had even reached out to a psychiatrist. He only gave you sertraline and some kind of sleeping pills. No therapy was offered. And those pills were the ones that killed you in the end. He gave you a way out of the pain, but not in the way he intended.
I am not mad. I understand why you did what you did. I just wish it didn’t have to end this way. I just wish someone would have helped you. And for years I thought that should have been me. I didn’t do enough to help you. It is my fault that you are gone. I still kind of do feel that way. But we were both really young. At 12 you aren’t even a teenager yet. An adult should have help you. Should have helped both of us.
While I am not mad at you, I don’t know if you understood how much your death would hurt me. I didn’t speak for over a year. I couldn’t. I tried to open my mouth but nothing came out. I threw out all of my stuff. Changed style. Pretended I was a completely different person. Became a completely different person. There is a clear before and after in my life. My self harming got worse. I couldn’t sleep. I still have nightmares where I see your lifeless body every night.
I haven’t been able to hold down friendships since you left. I’m scared they’ll end up like you if I get too close. So I end up pushing people away. Or I’m scared you will think I’m trying to replace you. Which I’m not. I swear. It’s just hard walking through this world without you, especially when I don’t have anyone by my side at all. I just feel so lonely.
I am not mad. It wasn’t your fault. You lost your battle. It still feels surreal that I’m the one that’s still here. You were always so much stronger than I was. Better at handling the shitstorm that is life.
Just know that I miss you. Every day. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel like a piece of me is missing. People say that time heals all wounds but it still hurts as much as day the you passed. I’ve just gotten better at hiding it.
It’s hard to keep going when all of the plans we made aren’t happening anymore. I made new plans, but it’s not the same. I’m studying psychology to help other people in your situation. To actually save someone like you in the future, because I couldn’t save you. I sometimes wonder if you would be proud of me. Of where I am now. Of where I’m going.
The world will never know who you would have become if what happened didn’t happen. You would have been 20 now. I know you would still be as wonderful as you were back then. But I sometimes wonder what you would be studying. Would you actually have a carrier in music at this point? I don’t doubt it, you were so talented already at such a young age. I also sometimes wonder what I would have been studying if this didn’t happen to you. Would I still have gone into psychology? Maybe. Maybe not.
The world will never know how wonderful you were. How much I loved you. How much I still do. You’re still the person I want to call when something new happens in my life. I still get the urge to text you when I’m feeling down. I sometimes completely forget you’re gone. And then I realise and the grief starts all over again.
I love you. And I miss you. But I’m not mad. I completely understand why you did what you did. I just wish your life wouldn’t have ended this way. This early.
