A FRIEND OF MINE

If there were any time to feel compelled to write about anything, I suppose it would probably be now. I don't really know how to "write", format, or make something engaging to read, so I will just write my thoughts for myself, Maybe I'll scrap it later and not bother uploading. It's probably a bit too much for a silly little site like this anyway.

I've considered writing journal entries for myself sometimes, but I always found it kind of pointless to write things to myself, after all why bother if the intent isn't to share? As a result, sometimes I'd post on an imageboard called Uboachan, a site revolving around a game I like called Yume Nikki, mostly I'd post or browse on the boards dedicated to NEETs and ex-NEETs. While I didn't post a bunch, I found it more comforting to anonymously write my thoughts there, because at least now other people can see them, even if it's just one person responding -- or none, at least it was still read.

It also felt nice to read posts by people who felt similarly lost in life. I was depressed for a long time, and I still am to an extent. I've never gone to a professional, but I'll say "was" because I'm not as bad as I used to be. I spent most days since I turned 16 in my room being depressed, for probably the majority of a bit over 8 years. I started self-harming when I was around 12, but it didn't become something I really acknowledged as self-harm til my mid teens via cutting.

Being the way I am offline, I've never told anyone about it, and maybe only 3 people online. One of the several reasons my depression and self-harm became so bad is because two of my best, and only offline friends I've ever had really, started to move on in life to university in different cities. I'd known both since I was 6 and 7, so it was hard to go from spending every day with them to being alone. We used to have stay-overs at one another's house almost every weekend, rotating whose we'd stay at, all the way til they moved onto uni. I really felt like we'd be that close forever, I miss staying up all night playing Zelda: Four Swords and watching anime together.

I kept more in contact with one of them, via msn messenger, but still I felt sad seeing them go somewhere in life and make new friends. It was pretty infrequent though, and eventually we stopped keeping in contact at all. He eventually dropped out of university due to depression, and moved back in with his mother, the next door to me. Despite our houses now sharing walls again, we still never really reconnected properly, I felt self-conscious and that I was no longer desired to be around, but I know this probably wasn't true.

That was maybe 5 years ago, covid sure makes it feel like it's been a lot less though. Since then, he had gotten better and moved in with a partner, but naturally still came here occasionally because his mother lives next door.

On May 2nd, I was told he jumped off a bridge two days prior.

It's been three weeks and part of me still feels like it's not real. When I was told that he had passed away, I thought maybe an accident happened or something. Suicide didn't cross my mind, it feels like one of those horrible stats that only other people experience but not yourself, after all millions of people deal with depression, but how many of them could do such a thing.

His funeral was two days ago, I had never been to a funeral before. While it has come up before, I always declined ever going to one. I felt like I would regret not attending it this time though -- and I'm glad I went, it felt comforting in an odd way. I think I have a lot of problems showing emotions to even close relatives, so it felt nice to be able to cry and not feel weird or judged for doing so in front of others. I also spoke to some people I hadn't seen since I was a kid, which was nice.

Still, I wish I could go back and reconnect with the countless opportunities I had to do so. I wish I was a more open person and could have felt comfortable trying to become really close friends again, and tell him how much I missed him.

A probably naive and guilty part of me feels like I could have somehow changed something. I dislike when people do the "I get how you feel" talk when they really don't, I feel like I could have shown the scars all over my arm and gone "See, I actually get it". I dealt with suicide ideation several times, but the thought of my family's reaction would make me feel like a terrible person, so I self-harmed a lot instead.

Part of me feels like some kind of imposter, like I shouldn't be as upset as I am. After all I hadn't really been in his life for a long time, but it's hard to not fixate on our childhood and cause myself grief, I miss when we were kids. I still remember the first time we met, he had moved in next door recently, but we were both too shy to ever talk to one another. My dad had to knock on their door to ask if their kid wants to play with me, and we both awkwardly sat there not knowing what to say or do.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, and it's probably too disjointed, personal and weird to be putting onto here. I suppose dealing with this has made life hit me pretty hard, and part of me wants to try being more open, even though I find it very hard to do so. So in a way, doing this is my weird attempt to make steps into doing so.

I guess I will stop rambling now. I miss you.