It’s almost been two years since I lost one of my best friends. Every single day is a reminder that things can be a lot worse. When I’m at my lowest point I tend to think that nothing will ever be okay again. But I have seen things get okay again. I have put my pieces back together many times before. I might be going through a lot right now, but I know things will go back to normal.
In my dark times I could barely eat or sleep. I remember going through what I’m going through now. I didn’t feel hungry ever, I lost a lot of weight, when I did fall asleep they were filled with nightmares. I wake up in a panic most mornings for no reason and it makes me so angry because I can’t explain why this stuff is happening. I don’t think anyone in my family really understands what its like to have a panic attack for no reason and I couldn’t explain it to them even if I tried.
Nolan’s death has also taught me that I cannot compare people. One persons story is not another persons story. I think I panic when I find out that people I love a lot are struggling because I’m afraid I’m going to lose them. It literally terrifies me that one morning I’ll wake up again and find out that I lost someone else to depression. And in this case comparison probably was my downfall. I don’t regret trying to help this person because I think in my mind I was trying to help myself. I wish someone had pushed me to get help when I really needed it instead of me self-medicating myself to get rid of the pain that I was feeling and still am feeling.
I really do owe it to my friends and family for always giving me love when I need it the most.
And to anyone who actually takes the time to read this and are struggling themselves: you are not alone. Your friends need you. Your family needs you. Your story is important and so is your struggle.