Apologies if this is a long post; but a lot has happened this two to three years. I wasn’t sure where to post this since it has so much overlap. On one hand I definitely feel pretty bad right now, on the other there is a suicide survival, and on the other (yes, I have three hands!) I post some of why I’m feeling so lousy near the end. But most of all, I just needed to share. Triggers are present. First, I was diagnosed with an incurable disease when I was eighteen. Nothing life threatening, but ulcers in my stomach are painful and stressful at times. I had actually had this disease since probably my teenage years, but had only been recently diagnosed. Unfortunately, prior to my diagnosis I had no treatment since I didn’t realize anything was wrong with me; I was just the skinny and out of shape kid who couldn’t think straight; which in turn led to most of my childhood friends not hanging out with me, which was kind of painful. But I actually handled it pretty well. Kid’s grow apart all the time. Truth be told I couldn’t even blame them, I was in zombie mode. Parents were also pretty unsupportive; always there to provide monetarily, never emotionally. (Mothers reaction to my disease: “Suck it up.”) They aren’t bad people, but they’re more like minor friends rather then actual parents. When I was finally medicated years later, I was simply fascinated by how much better I felt. Turns out not slowly bleeding from your intestines improves your health and thinking capabilities a good ten fold. I continued into college, started jogging, made some new friends, and just had a pretty damn good time. I was attending college for engineering and making good grades, but decided to switch majors since I realized I couldn’t stand what I was doing. Unfortunately, the major I tried to switch into was completely full and the only way to get into it was to go into general studies and quite literally spend a whole year on a wait list and waste money on classes I didn’t need. So instead, I transferred schools. When choosing which school to go to, I narrowed it down to two that were both on the same level academically. However, I chose to attend a school that was a bit further away from home for one simple reason; I had a friend attending that school. She wasn’t ever necessarily a good friend, I practically never hung out with her, but she was a childhood friend whom I had known since I was under a year old, so I had known her for over twenty years. I figured it would be better to move to a school where I know someone so that I have an “in” that could introduce me to some people and I wouldn’t be so isolated in a new town. And it backfired. Badly. I moved up to this new college and she helped me move in. And after that…nothing. She didn’t show me around town. Didn’t introduce me to people. She just ignored me as much as humanly possible. I would send her texts again every now and then that kind of hinted that I wanted someone to show me around town (“Hey, any good place to eat off campus that’s still in walking distance?”) and would invite her out every now and then on the rare occasions my roommates would do something I tag along with (“Were having a barbecue at my house, stop by if you can”). She would simply send answers to any question in the shortest possible way and politely blow me off. I took the hint and left her alone. I tried to keep in touch with my friends who now lived hundreds of miles away, but while we still kept in touch, we all slowly grow apart and only talk once every few months. And things got worst. My roommates are…aggravating. One is a nice enough guy who used to be a veteran, and I have nothing against him. We just don’t have anything in common. One of those people who I get along with, but can’t really hang out with either. The other is a drug addict who smokes weed every single day and quite frankly brings downright trashy people into the house I have to put up with. He’s not the cool kid who does it every few weeks, he’s the type of person who does it every day for hours on end, talks kindly to your face and then trash once your back is turned, and gets obnoxious the instant he has a beer. Whenever he drinks he plays loud music into the night, screams his head off at every little thing (not in an angry way; he’s just freaking loud), and I have to be “that guy” who goes down into a group of people and look like an ass when I tell them to stop partying. (“Yes, I have a test tomorrow. Yeah, it’s an important test, like I’ve told you at least five times already. No, I can’t skip it. Ermm…I did tell you not to have people over tonight; I’ve been mentioning it all week man.”) He’s just not a good person. I go out and get drunk every now and then too; but he’s just so inconsiderate in his partying. I also make one really good friend who’s a blast to hang out with, but he’s not an emotional person I can talk about with this kind of stuff. He’s also a grad student, so he has very little time. So I have some support, but not much. And as time drags on; I just get emotionally drained. I barely hang out with my one friend due to time constraints from school. I feel like I can’t hang out in the common room of my house since most of the time it’s filled with people I can’t stand. I have a hard time getting sleep since my one roommate is loud and turns the TV up so much; something he continues to do even though I tell him the walls are paper thin. My childhood friend continues to blow me off even though I keep trying to invite her over every few months since I don’t have anyone else I know. Always things along the line of “I would love too, but I’m busy.” I party with both my roommates when I have time; even if I don’t like/get along with them, it’s still better then nothing and they are more bearable if I’m drinking and we have a lot of random people over (college; you have alcohol, random friends of friends you don’t know will show up for your house parties. I didn’t mind, good way to meet people who weren’t nasty). I meet plenty of acquaintances and legitimately nice people, but none of them stick and develop into full fledged friendships. My disease relapses and I’m in constant pain, eventually scheduled for major surgery. I have the surgery. All in all, things are going badly, but I still manage to get by. But then things got, once again, even worst. I get an infection from my surgery. Nothing too bad, they quite literally just gave me heavy medication, they told me to take it for a week at home. But the medication had some major side effects. The chances of getting major side effects are suppose to be extraordinarily low, but I still got them. Specifically, I started hallucinating, became severely depressed, and couldn’t remember much. Not a good combo. Worst, in my twisted mental state I became suicidal, something I had never experienced before in my life. By the third (maybe fourth or second) day I decided to take all of my heavy medication and regular medication at once. The next few days were easily some of the worst of my life, so I’ll skip the details of what little I remember. Needless to say, I obviously survived. When I finally recovered, I discovered I had been sending texts to people. Like the darker and not so cute version of drunk texts. Most were downright stupid and I could pass off to my out-of-town friends as jokes (“Oy man, I just met Ronald Reagan…Smart guy, but bit of a douche” and “When vomiting in the toilet, make sure the toilet isn’t your bed”). But I soon realized the texts I had been sending to my childhood friend weren’t so cute. I had sent her things that were obviously alarming, such as “Why does it have to end like this?”, “I’m so ******* tired of this place”, “Why don’t I have any friends?” and “My life sucks,” and more. (Truth be told those may be off a bit, I deleted the texts soon after since I didn’t want the reminder, so I’m reciting from memory; but the tone is the same). Her response was literally to ignore me as much as possible, answer with brief as possible answers, and finally, “I’m sorry your going through a rough time, but I’m dealing with my own stuff right now.” I was angry. I was having these obviously suicidal thoughts, she was the only one who knew what was going on, and she didn’t call, check on me, or even call the police. She just…blew me off. I kind of regret it now, but I sucked it up and apologized, texted her about the medication making me hallucinate. I was ticked about it, but just wanted to forget about it. Went out bar hopping with my friend. Was so angry with her I think I just wanted her to feel guilty, so I sent her a drunk text saying “Thank god for Jake (not his real name), or else my suicide attempt would have succeeded.” Yeah, it wasn’t even true. Great friend, but he didn’t do anything to help me earlier either, he hadn’t been aware of what was going on. She didn’t respond until two the next day. She freaked. She called everyone except me. Called her parents, whom promptly called mine. Sent me a text with a suicide hotline number. Still didn’t call. Had to explain what happened to everyone. I freaked out too, sent her a text telling her not to call me a friend, that she hadn’t every treated me like one. She said she had and that she always acted nice to me. I broke down and came across as a total creep, and texted her that she never did anything friend worthy since I moved to this god forsaken place, that it was unfair that she and all the other childhood friends I used to have had ditched me one by one because I was sick and no longer any fun to hang out with, she texted me back saying enough was enough. Eventually I calmed down and tried to apologize, I sent her a message trying to explain things and how I felt she had treated me badly over Facebook, apologizing if I hurt her. By this point and time all I wanted to know was “Why?”, why did she feel it was okay to treat me like that? To lead me on and not just come out and tell me we weren’t friends? To continue to blow me off as much as possible, even call when she became aware things weren’t going well? She texted me that she would write a response when she had time. I waited a whole week, during which I got next to no sleep. I finally sent her a text asking when she would respond. She sent me a five sentence answer along the lines of “We never hung out before, so it would make no sense for us to do it now.” Yeah, guess it was okay to ignore my suicide attempt till it was too late, mislead me, and then continue to ignore me as much as possible and offer no real support even after you were aware about what was going on. I get angry, send her a second reply saying she treated me wrongly, she never apologized for doing so, didn’t really answer the question of “why?” even though it was the only thing I wanted from her at that point, the only reason I moved up there was because of her (which she apparently misconstrued as romantic intentions) and told her she was a heartless little monster and if I ever saw her again to not talk to me. The next day my mother informs me that her parents had just called, and if it was anybody else, they would have reported me to the dean of the school and filed a restraining order. Yeah, I tell her I don’t ever want to talk to her again and she threatens legal action. To make matters worst, my mother agrees with them, yells at me, tells me what I did was wrong, that I scared her. I nearly killed myself and she was more concerned with someone else’s kid. Argh. My childhood friends parents still hang out with mine, I see them in the house. It’s a reminder of what I went through. I’m ignored and told to “suck it up” again. Mother finally says she’ll stop hanging out with them, but only when I’m at the house visiting. She talks about them all the time even though it’s a bad subject for me. And now we reach present day. I wish I could say I’m not suicidal, that I got my act together, that I forgot about what happened. But that would be a lie. Even now I have a hard time dealing with what happened. How could I not? She called me a friend but never treated me like one. I don’t trust anyone anymore. I stopped partying and only go out drinking every six weeks are so. I barely sleep. I was in trouble and a person who was aware of it did absolutely nothing. My parents have made it clear to me they prefer their friends to me. I feel like a total creep every time I go home now. My faith in god is completely shattered. I still don’t know why. I try not to think about what happened, but inevitably I think about it every day, and get severely depressed every time I do. My liver functions are now elevated and don’t seem to be going down. Ironically, I now know plenty of people, but as I said before: I don’t trust anyone now. I just feel awful all the time, without end. Oddly enough, it’s not even the fact of what she did that haunts me. It’s the lack of an apology. The idea that it’s all right for people to treat me like human trash and then not even acknowledge their own mistakes in the situation. I’m okay with rejection. But what she did to me wasn’t rejection…it was beyond that. It was just inhumanely cruel. I just wish she would apologize, then I could move on. But I know she won’t. And it scares me that this state of depression isn’t going away.