kittengirl7
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- Sep 13, 2023
- 2
I tried posting this to reddit only for it to be taken down immediately. If this isnt a good place to post this, please tell me where to go. I need someone to listen to me
When I was still in middle school, about 8th grade, I met someone in my neighborhood who was just a few months older than me. Me and this person didn't get along very well at first, but we quickly became friends once we came across each other again days later. We bonded over our similar interests and quickly grew to become best friends, and we would be for the next 7 years.
I've never hated someone so much in my entire life.
When I was younger I ended up befriending this person across the street from me and we became friends pretty quickly. We'd spend a lot of our time together after school and on weekends either at each other's houses or around the neighborhood with some of our other friends, or just by ourselves. For the first few years of our relationship, things were cool! We were just kids being kids and having fun. We liked to play with their dolls and I'd bring my stuffed animals over so we could use them in our scenarios. We'd draw for one another and we'd play animal jam together, going to different serves to do trust trades and getting involved in roleplays together. I loved spending time with them.
Unfortunately both mine and my friends mental health began to decline over time due to stress during our home lives. For me it was a chaotic home envoriment, and for my friend it was an incredibly abusive parent, physically emotionally and verbally. I had no clue about this abuse until years later.
Once I entered my freshman year of highschool my friend had gotten into a relationship online with their at the time girlfriend, who I'll call "S." Things were going great! We all got along fairly well and I loved seeing my friend so happy in a relationship! However thier relationship with S quickly began to grow abusive and they started to have some pretty nasty arguments that I'd end up hearing about through my friend. I'm talking arguments that'd end in them breaking up before they crawled back to eachother the next day, arguments that'd start because one of them relapse and lied to the other about it, arguments that sparked because my friend was becoming abusive. They were learning and repeating the behavior they picked up from their abusive parent. I had to listen and watch from afar, though I grew to hate S because I felt they were the one being abusive towards my friend, when in reality they were only lashing out due to constant abuse from their partner. My friend never told me what exactly they were doing or saying to their partner, it sounded like they were the victim during all of this. I didn't know how abusive they were being until years later.
During this time I delt with my friend's first suicide attempt, which was awful. I felt horrible and missed them every single day they were gone at the hospital. I felt awful I didn't do anything to try and stop them. Eventually they were released and things went back to "normal," but now I was worried. I didn't want them to die. Shortly after their hospitalization they picked up a habit of self harm, which eventually lead to me developing one too. We eventually found each other out, but never did or said anything to prevent it. I personally had no clue what to do.
Years later after my friend moved out of state to live with their other, divorced parent, finally getting away from their first parent back home. However they ended up having to live with an albeit less, but still abusive step-parent. They continued to endure abuse after leaving home, now with our relationship being long distance. I couldn't invite them over to my house or go over to theirs to spend time with them and make sure that they were ok. I couldn't protect them anymore.
At this point we'd both been diganosed with a handful of conditions, my friend earning a diagnosis for Borderline personality disorder among others. I didn't realize that I was also suffering from this condition as well by this point, nor did I quite understand the severity of this condidtion or what it's like to live with someone who suffers from it, let alone suffering from it yourself. Leading to this point there had been a handful of times my friend has made attempts on their life, many of them being stopped due to me contacting their parent about it beforehand. It quickly became routine for me to stop them from taking their life anytime they so much as hinted at the idea. My whole life became preventing my friend from relpasing or attempting, as I was co-dependent on them. I couldn't fathom a life without them anymore, and the idea of losing them was almost enough to send me into a spiral. Anytime they posted hints at taking their life or that they'd relapsed it'd almost always send me into a mental spiral myself that would tear me down more and more each time. I hated seeing them suffering, knowing I couldn't do anything.
The next few years can be summarized by calling it "the calm before the storm." Nothing notable happened in this time during our relationship, though we both continued to suffer abuse at home. My friend from their home life and constant contact with their past abuser (+ others they'd later get into contact with), myself suffering abuse from my friend. I didn't know I was being abused yet.
Come the end of 2020, my friend is being kicked out. They'd just turned 18 and their step-parent believed they had to leave home immediately now that they were an adult, though they had no place to stay. I was able to convince my parents to let my friend move in, leading to us now living together at my home.
Our time living together was miserable. Not only for me, but for my friends and family. My friend would be asleep most of the day and would refuse to let me open my curtains to let the light in, and they'd get openly annoyed and pissy at me whenever I made too much noise that kept them awake. I resorted to camping out on the couch in the living room during the day so I could play games with my friends and draw without the constant worry of if I'm being too loud or not. I no longer felt welcome in my own room.
My parents weren't fans of them either. Albeit their opinion on them at the time was skewed due to their ableism towards my friend (believeing they were "too young" to be disabled), as well as the fact they thought my declining mental health was caused by us being friends (due to the fact that when my mental health becan to decline, so did my friend's. They thought my friend was somehow brainwashing me, which. Is so fucking stupid. They like to pretend they aren't abusive themselves, but I digress. Deflect the blame I suppose.) My friend promised to help around the house as payment for my parents allowing them to live there, but they never did anything. They'd spend all their time either asleep or doing god knows what. I don't even remember. Anytime my parents pushed them to get their GED or drivers liscence, it'd always fall through. My friend was being lazy now.
Eventually we got a job together and started working as partners. We had the same hours initially to cut back on gas price since my parents were the one taking us to and from, but when our manager began to divide out shifts it became annoying. My friend would constantly text me and ask my mom to come pick them up, which my mom and our employers found annoying. I even started to grow annoyed by it myself. We had several fights while working this job to the point we had a brief relationship ending argument during shift, leading to us being sent home early that day. We made up later, but things were starting to worsen between us.
My parents eventually kicked my friend out after they came across a video of us online kissing, as we were a couple by this point (and for clarification, we're no longer dating. I'm polyamorus myself and was in a relationship with my girlfriend at this point, with my best friend as a relatively new partner. My friend and I's relationship doesn't last long, and can be assumed after this point that we're no longer a couple). As a preface; we were not dating before my friend moved in. We got together after they'd already come to live with us, however my parents jumped to the conclusion that I'd lied about my friend being kicked out in order to be able live with my partner. This wasn't the case, but they weren't going to listen. At this point we were planning to take a trip to my friend's family back in their homestate for thanksgiving, though once my friend was kicked out this quickly became my friend's depature date. They were going to use this chance to move back home, though they didn't want to go alone. They begged me to come with them back home and to move in with them and their family, but I hesitated. I kept telling them no, but they persisted, insiting they "couldn't keep living if I wasn't with them." Eventually I caved. I was worried for their safety and what would happen if I wasn't there to protect them. On the night before our flight I had a panic attack and told them I couldn't do it, that I was staying home. This ended up in my friend attempting suicide in my own home. An ambulance was called while my parents were still asleep, and come morning when they woke up to take us to the airport I told them to go back to bed and I'd explain things in the morning. We both missed our flight, my friend didn't have a way back home anymore. My friend ended up moving in with a different at the time mutual friend of our's I'll nickname "B" shortly after leaving the hospital, since they were desperate not to leave me. They were doing anything they could to stay in town with me.
B let my friend live with them and their family for a few months, which didn't go very well. They had a very similar experience with them that I did with them, and soon B's parent told my friend they had to go back home. My friend was eventually picked up by their parents and driven back home to their home state. At this point I was starting to form a love-hate relationship with this friend. My own family and friends now had bad opinions on them and I had no one to talk to anymore about my friend. I didn't want their opinion on them to be ruined any further. I still loved them and cared about them at the end of the day, and I hated how everyone jumped to conclusions just because they caught my friend on one...or several bad days.
Come 2022 where I went through the worst year of my life. I started a new job and quickly became overwhelmed by it, eventually leading to me picking up my past addiction with self harm again. During this time my friend had also picked up on it again and eventually we began to encourage each other. We entered an online community together dedictated to this kinda thing which resulted in things getting so much worse between us. By this point we'd begun planning for me to move out of home and in with them and their family, as my own home life had reached a boiling point that I felt suffocated and trapped. I was desperate to leave even if it meant going to an entirely different state blindly. I'd never been to this state before nor had I even met my friends parents before, but I was desperate to escape. I continued to endure stress from work and eventually moved out earlier this year in January for the first time in my life. This was my first time travelling alone, as well as my first time moving out. I was terrified. I had an awful feeling the entire time.
I moved in with my friend and things were. Weird.
My friend continued the lifestyle of sleeping all day and getting fussy with me for turning on any lights or making too much noise (which at this point was ANY noise), except now I had nowhere to go. We had to share a room since all the other ones were already occupied by their family, my only other option being the living room that I was terrified to go in, as their parent's room was one wall away and had no door to it. They'd hear me if I made any noise. I'd never met my friends family before this and I was deathly afraid of them. They were strangers to me. They've never done or said anything to make me distrust them so much, though with being in an entirely different state miles away from home it couldn't be helped. I was scared the entire time I was there.
I only lived with them for 2 months before I went home. Leading up to this were nights where I got no sleep whatsoever, nights where I'd only be able to sleep for 30 minutes at a time before my friend woke me up due to the music they were playing, ordering mcdonalds every day because I was too scared to go to the kitchen and make food for myself and draining my bank account of all I had left, not being able to use the bathroom because the stress had me so backed up, not knowing how I'd get a job due to my physical condition being less than ideal and nowhere within walking distance was hiring, and more. I wanted to go home so bad. I needed to go home.
When we initially started to plan me moving out and in with my friend and their family, it started with me needing to get out of an chaotic household. But as time went by and we got closer to my departure date, I started wanting to leave so I could go protect my friend again. Their self harming habits and mental health were deteriorating and I was terrified. I didn't want them to die, I wanted to protect them. I stopped caring about leaving because my home life was messy, my motivation was now just going to make sure that my friend was safe. That they weren't going to hurt themselves, that they weren't going to take their life, that they were alive.
My friend continued to hurt themselves. They continued to fall deeper into the pit, even though we shared the same room. I'd find their blades on the counter and the tissues that they forgot to flush, their posts online of their relapses and the vents they thought I couldn't see, they weren't getting better. I was failing. I was losing them.
I dwelled on going home for the later half of my stay. I'd kept failing to protect my friend and my own mental state was deteriorating before my very eyes. I'd never felt so awful. Eventually I reached out to my girlfriend and asked for her advice, for the first time in 3 years of us being together I'd reached out to her for help, for her opinion, for her to tell me what to do, for her to tell me that I'm not crazy and that I was going to be ok and that I was allowed to leave. No one in my life has seen or heard this much of the abusive I'd endurded from this friend, and she was the first, and is the only person who knows. She told me to go home. She told me it was ok.
I broke down and told my friend I was leaving. I ended up having a panic attack. She begged me to stay but quickly dropped it and told me we should go our seperate ways, something I was all too familiar with hearing. I didn't care anymore. I went to the empty guest room and sobbed on the phone to my mom and begged her to come get me, while my friend went and attempted to take their life. I knew they were going to, and I didn't bother to stop. My mom told me she was going to come get me the next morning and that I should start packing, so I did. I packed everything as best as I could and my friend came back to find me on the floor. They were shocked at how far I'd gotten.
I told my friend's parents I was leaving and they called me down to talk to them for a bit. They wanted to make sure I was ok, that things between me and their child were ok, and I told them yes. I told them things were fine. My friend's step dad (a new, non abusive one) initially came upstairs to get me, and we found the front door open. Usually it was locked with 2 different locks, but we brushed it off and relocked it. Eventually towards the end of my talk between me and their parents, the cops knocked on the door. My friend made another attempt on their life via cop. They were sitting outside with the officers and we were all questioned. My friend saw me standing outside as their mom negotiated with them on being warded and they asked: "Why are you out here?" All I said was "Because I care about you, dumbass." That was the last thing (rather full scentence) I said to them before they were taken.
My friend was getting ready to be taken to the ward and they were told to pack their stuff. While they were packing I handed them a squishmallow of mine that I'd had a connection to (Her official name is Cameron, but I'd call her Candy). I'd been wared twice myself, this plushie going with me both times I went. I handed her to my friend and told them to take it. They did, and they were taken away by an ambulance.
I was alone that night. Just me, my stuff, and the mess of a room I'd been living in the past 2 months. There were mcdonalds bags in the corner next to our tiny trashcan that was overflowing, a single lamp we barely used because my friend didn't like the light, cords everywhere from our electronics, a box of trash we used as a door stop, and mold behind my head under the matress I'd been sleeping on. I'd finally realized how much I hated it there.
I didn't get any sleep that night. I'd woken up at 1pm the day I asked my mom to come get me, but I couldn't rest the night before she got there. By 11am she'd picked me up and by 5pm I was back home. I had no contact with my friend anymore as they were in the hospital, and I was under the impression we weren't friends anymore. Words can't describe how...numb. I felt when I got a text from them days later, how empty I felt when they said we were still friends.
Our relationship was severely strained. I'd lost sight of who my friend was and we were so distant with each other afterwards. For the next few months we'd talk irregularly at best and every time I saw their name pop up on my phone my heart would drop. I hated talking to them now because all they'd do is vent and complain about how awful their life was now. For years I'd listen to them vent and complain about anything and everything, I'd give them advice and my unconditional love and support, but now I was drained. I stopped caring. I stopped responding anytime they vented.
Come May of this year, I cut contact with them. I told them and I quote:
"Alright I can't help you anymore.
I'm sorry I want to see you get better and get your life together again, but you have no hope for yourself.
I'm sorry I can't do anything to help you
We need to stop talking
Them: "i wasn't asking for help"
I know you weren't
I love you, but I can't keep being your friend while you're like this
If you ever get better, I want to talk to you again
But this can't keep going on I'm sorry If you continue living and writing your stories, you can use my characters as needed
If you kill yourself and I never get a chance to talk to you again, I really do hope you move onto a better life
I hate seeing you suffer I hope you live a better life.
Whether it be this one or the next
Hopefully I'll talk to you soon
Bye"
I blocked them everywhere I could except for a single site, Toyhouse.
For years we'd been creating our own characters and stories together, ones we owned individually and others we owned together. One of their biggest life-long projects has been a written story that involves 2 of my own characters as part of the main cast. Our shared characters were the SOLE reason I was so hesitant to cut contact, I can't imagine my ocs with anyone else but theirs. I refused to block them on the site and commented on their profile letting them know that I wasn't going to block them there, but I wasn't going to contact them either. They never blocked me, and I never blocked them.
We went a week without eachother and it was hell. The days went by painfully slow and I was deathly afraid that they'd died. By this point I'd developed an awful habit of stalking my friend online on various platforms whenever they'd block my main accounts, and not a single thing was posted anywhere after I cut contact. I was terrified they'd finally succeeded. Eventually I caved and texted their mom, who I still had contact with. I asked her if they were ok, if my friend was alive.
They were ok. I broke down in tears as soon as I'd read it.
Later that day I got a message from my friend on Toyhouse that eventually lead to them asking to be friends again, before going back and demanding I apologize to them, that they were tired of always apologizing to me. I spent the next 3 hours writing an entire essay on how much I regret my choice and how badly I wanted to be friends again, and we were back together. I unblocked them on everything and we went back to normal. Simply saying I wrote and essay isn't enough to hammer in the fact that I was fucking unwell, that I was suffering. I want to post what I sent to my friend so others can SEE it and know what I said, know how desperate I was to befriend them again. Post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50989843 (I tried to use pastebin, but the filter wouldn't let me make the paste public, so please forgive me for using AO3 of all platforms).
We became friends again and if I'm being honest, I don't remember anything leading to this point. From May to now, my memory is failing me. The only thing I remember now is last month, which I'll elaborate now
By the time August came around my friend asked if they could come see me, they wanted to get a train to spend time with me. I told them no, that my mental health was in a bad spot that hanging out wouldn't be a good idea. Weeks of persistent begging and asking if they could come and I caved and agreed to let them come down. However I learned that when I told my girlfriend about this visit, in resulted in her breaking down. Learning this fact destroyed me. She was terrified of the idea of this person coming into my house, sleeping in the same bed as me and being with me that it pushed her to that point. I already didn't want my friend to come visit, but they kept persisting to a point that I was so fucking annoyed that I just agreed so they'd stop. My girlfriend was so worried that I'd be in danger and that this person was going to hurt me, and now I felt worse than ever. My mental state was awful.
For the most part my friend's visit was fine. We didn't do anything too notable, though one night they had a breakdown and cried in front of me, talking about how they didn't want to go on and lord knows what at this point. I fucking forgot. The second night I snuck out in the middle of the night to go to the park so I could spend some time away from them, only to get a text from their mother saying that they were beginning to hint at taking their life. I went back home, went thru them breaking down in front of me again, and I camped out in the living room. I hate the idea of being in my room with them still in there, it terrified me and filled me with rage. At some point I went to the basement and fought the urge to punch and scream at the top of my lungs I was so furious with them, I wanted them gone.
They went home the next day and all was well. I can't remember much from the months following other than our messages became sporadic again, though my friend did claim that they were beginning recovery. I was proud of them, I was happy to see them finally taking their mental health seriously.
Cut to now, present day. We're back at square one.
Once again, they've gone and gained another addiction. Now they've begun snorting pills and romanticizing their own mental illness again. AGAIN. The cycle keeps repeating and getting worse each time. I'm fucking sick of it
I don't even know what to say anymore but there's still so much I could and would and WANT to say, but I've been typing for 2 hours now (Edit: now 3 with all the screenshots i've had to gather) and I'm still not fucking finished. I hate this bitch. I hate them so much. They make my blood boil and I can't stand the idea of them anymore.
This person who I've known for so long, who I've dedicated so much time, love, energy and care into is fucking gone and all that's left is this pathetic husk of a peson who I'm ashamed to call a friend anymore. I don't know who they are, I don't know how we got this far, and I don't know how much more I can take.
I want them gone, I'd go as far as to say I want them dead. I don't care if I'm not a victim, I fucking don't. I won't pretend I am, I've said and done awful things to this person throughout our time together even if I never mentioned it. We're both terribly abusive and I'm at my breaking point, I can't keep fucking doing this. I can't keep dealing with this person I can't fucking I can't i cant
I'm so tired all my life has been for so long as been taking care of this person and convincing them not to kill themselves, not to cut themselves, not to go drink not to go snort drugs not to go get another one night stand that would turn into assault i've tried to help i've tried to ward them off of things that hurt them more i've tried so fucking hard to encourage their recovery to tell them that things are gonna be ok to tell them that theres a reaosn to live to tell them that hteyre worthy of love and they should keep going and im fucking sick of it all ive done for so long si worry about krill worry about anja worry about this fucking "beautiful princess disorder" bastard who i cant help but hate everytime i hear her name i dont care i dont fucking care im tired im exhausted im angry im upset im sad im suicidial im depressed im upset im fucking upset i want out i wanna leave im done i wanna drop it i wanna move on i wanna live my fucking life agaun i wanna be myself i wanna stop worrying about her i wanna do something else i wanna have purpose again i dont want my life to contiune to be her outlet im so tired im tired i want this to end ive almost taken my lidfe just to get away from her ive hurt myself to take my mind off of her ive done so much for her to try and help her to help her improve to give her a reason to keep going ive tried to recover myself ive tried to get her to recover and nothing works it never wokrs its nevr worked its always the same its always been the same ive never made it past freshman year im still 15 and crying on the stairwell alone because my best friend tried to overdose and im still sitting in gym alone with tear stained cheeks because i miss her im still laying in bed crying because none of my messages can be read im still sitting in class worrying if shell ever come back im still 15 im still stuck wondering when my best friend will be back im still wondering if shes gonna be ok and if theres anything i can do to help her im still 15 spending all my time and energy with her in hopes that shell change her mind and decide to live im still
im still here
i havent left
i try to scream and cry, but i always push it back. i never let myself
i still love her
i dont know what id do without her
why cant i hate her
what do i do after shes gone?? who do i talk to? what do i tell everyone when they ask about her?
what am i supposed to do
everytime i go through our chat to find proof that you've hurt me and that i've tried to help you all i find is fond memories that i dont even remember anymore, i smile and laugh at old conversations
whats wrong with me
links to several messages because i NEED someone to see this i need people to see what ive been dealing with for so many years, and even then this is only from the past few MONTHS. I could scalp our messages from the past 4 years on discord and even more from skype and our texts on other socials but i dont have the energy to even do that. this is just from this year alone:
i may send a link to this post to my loved ones so i dont have to say anything again. i want them to know whats been going on and i dont care if i get the "i told you so" from my mom, the "i knew she couldnt be trusted" from my girlfriend, "we never really liked her" from my friends, i dont care. its all right youre all right i FUCKED UP I KNOW i was stupid i did something stupid ive said stupid shit ive dont stupid shit im not a good person but good god if i havent suffered during all this regardless, horrible people can still feel pain and regret im afraid. at least i do (god fucking knows she doesnt anymore) do i want my loved ones to see me in this light? why the ever loving fuck would i! be for fucking real! but i dont care whatever it takes to show them why ive been likle this for so long, why ive doubled down so hard, why ive become a husk of my former self so rapidly, even if it meanes exsposing my own shitty behavior and awful things ive said to someone i loved, if its any explination or closure to those who know me then i dont care
i dont care how awful of a person i am for giving up or thinking that she should die i dont care how awful it is that i played nice for so long only to go behind her back like this i dont care i cant afford to care its either her or me, one of us will end up taking our lives and im fighting SO hard to make sure its not me. im terrified of death and im terrified of losing her even after all this, though the people i love motivate me to carry on even after shes gone (i hope)
i dont know
i never fucking know anymore
what am i supposed to do now?
When I was still in middle school, about 8th grade, I met someone in my neighborhood who was just a few months older than me. Me and this person didn't get along very well at first, but we quickly became friends once we came across each other again days later. We bonded over our similar interests and quickly grew to become best friends, and we would be for the next 7 years.
I've never hated someone so much in my entire life.
When I was younger I ended up befriending this person across the street from me and we became friends pretty quickly. We'd spend a lot of our time together after school and on weekends either at each other's houses or around the neighborhood with some of our other friends, or just by ourselves. For the first few years of our relationship, things were cool! We were just kids being kids and having fun. We liked to play with their dolls and I'd bring my stuffed animals over so we could use them in our scenarios. We'd draw for one another and we'd play animal jam together, going to different serves to do trust trades and getting involved in roleplays together. I loved spending time with them.
Unfortunately both mine and my friends mental health began to decline over time due to stress during our home lives. For me it was a chaotic home envoriment, and for my friend it was an incredibly abusive parent, physically emotionally and verbally. I had no clue about this abuse until years later.
Once I entered my freshman year of highschool my friend had gotten into a relationship online with their at the time girlfriend, who I'll call "S." Things were going great! We all got along fairly well and I loved seeing my friend so happy in a relationship! However thier relationship with S quickly began to grow abusive and they started to have some pretty nasty arguments that I'd end up hearing about through my friend. I'm talking arguments that'd end in them breaking up before they crawled back to eachother the next day, arguments that'd start because one of them relapse and lied to the other about it, arguments that sparked because my friend was becoming abusive. They were learning and repeating the behavior they picked up from their abusive parent. I had to listen and watch from afar, though I grew to hate S because I felt they were the one being abusive towards my friend, when in reality they were only lashing out due to constant abuse from their partner. My friend never told me what exactly they were doing or saying to their partner, it sounded like they were the victim during all of this. I didn't know how abusive they were being until years later.
During this time I delt with my friend's first suicide attempt, which was awful. I felt horrible and missed them every single day they were gone at the hospital. I felt awful I didn't do anything to try and stop them. Eventually they were released and things went back to "normal," but now I was worried. I didn't want them to die. Shortly after their hospitalization they picked up a habit of self harm, which eventually lead to me developing one too. We eventually found each other out, but never did or said anything to prevent it. I personally had no clue what to do.
Years later after my friend moved out of state to live with their other, divorced parent, finally getting away from their first parent back home. However they ended up having to live with an albeit less, but still abusive step-parent. They continued to endure abuse after leaving home, now with our relationship being long distance. I couldn't invite them over to my house or go over to theirs to spend time with them and make sure that they were ok. I couldn't protect them anymore.
At this point we'd both been diganosed with a handful of conditions, my friend earning a diagnosis for Borderline personality disorder among others. I didn't realize that I was also suffering from this condition as well by this point, nor did I quite understand the severity of this condidtion or what it's like to live with someone who suffers from it, let alone suffering from it yourself. Leading to this point there had been a handful of times my friend has made attempts on their life, many of them being stopped due to me contacting their parent about it beforehand. It quickly became routine for me to stop them from taking their life anytime they so much as hinted at the idea. My whole life became preventing my friend from relpasing or attempting, as I was co-dependent on them. I couldn't fathom a life without them anymore, and the idea of losing them was almost enough to send me into a spiral. Anytime they posted hints at taking their life or that they'd relapsed it'd almost always send me into a mental spiral myself that would tear me down more and more each time. I hated seeing them suffering, knowing I couldn't do anything.
The next few years can be summarized by calling it "the calm before the storm." Nothing notable happened in this time during our relationship, though we both continued to suffer abuse at home. My friend from their home life and constant contact with their past abuser (+ others they'd later get into contact with), myself suffering abuse from my friend. I didn't know I was being abused yet.
Come the end of 2020, my friend is being kicked out. They'd just turned 18 and their step-parent believed they had to leave home immediately now that they were an adult, though they had no place to stay. I was able to convince my parents to let my friend move in, leading to us now living together at my home.
Our time living together was miserable. Not only for me, but for my friends and family. My friend would be asleep most of the day and would refuse to let me open my curtains to let the light in, and they'd get openly annoyed and pissy at me whenever I made too much noise that kept them awake. I resorted to camping out on the couch in the living room during the day so I could play games with my friends and draw without the constant worry of if I'm being too loud or not. I no longer felt welcome in my own room.
My parents weren't fans of them either. Albeit their opinion on them at the time was skewed due to their ableism towards my friend (believeing they were "too young" to be disabled), as well as the fact they thought my declining mental health was caused by us being friends (due to the fact that when my mental health becan to decline, so did my friend's. They thought my friend was somehow brainwashing me, which. Is so fucking stupid. They like to pretend they aren't abusive themselves, but I digress. Deflect the blame I suppose.) My friend promised to help around the house as payment for my parents allowing them to live there, but they never did anything. They'd spend all their time either asleep or doing god knows what. I don't even remember. Anytime my parents pushed them to get their GED or drivers liscence, it'd always fall through. My friend was being lazy now.
Eventually we got a job together and started working as partners. We had the same hours initially to cut back on gas price since my parents were the one taking us to and from, but when our manager began to divide out shifts it became annoying. My friend would constantly text me and ask my mom to come pick them up, which my mom and our employers found annoying. I even started to grow annoyed by it myself. We had several fights while working this job to the point we had a brief relationship ending argument during shift, leading to us being sent home early that day. We made up later, but things were starting to worsen between us.
My parents eventually kicked my friend out after they came across a video of us online kissing, as we were a couple by this point (and for clarification, we're no longer dating. I'm polyamorus myself and was in a relationship with my girlfriend at this point, with my best friend as a relatively new partner. My friend and I's relationship doesn't last long, and can be assumed after this point that we're no longer a couple). As a preface; we were not dating before my friend moved in. We got together after they'd already come to live with us, however my parents jumped to the conclusion that I'd lied about my friend being kicked out in order to be able live with my partner. This wasn't the case, but they weren't going to listen. At this point we were planning to take a trip to my friend's family back in their homestate for thanksgiving, though once my friend was kicked out this quickly became my friend's depature date. They were going to use this chance to move back home, though they didn't want to go alone. They begged me to come with them back home and to move in with them and their family, but I hesitated. I kept telling them no, but they persisted, insiting they "couldn't keep living if I wasn't with them." Eventually I caved. I was worried for their safety and what would happen if I wasn't there to protect them. On the night before our flight I had a panic attack and told them I couldn't do it, that I was staying home. This ended up in my friend attempting suicide in my own home. An ambulance was called while my parents were still asleep, and come morning when they woke up to take us to the airport I told them to go back to bed and I'd explain things in the morning. We both missed our flight, my friend didn't have a way back home anymore. My friend ended up moving in with a different at the time mutual friend of our's I'll nickname "B" shortly after leaving the hospital, since they were desperate not to leave me. They were doing anything they could to stay in town with me.
B let my friend live with them and their family for a few months, which didn't go very well. They had a very similar experience with them that I did with them, and soon B's parent told my friend they had to go back home. My friend was eventually picked up by their parents and driven back home to their home state. At this point I was starting to form a love-hate relationship with this friend. My own family and friends now had bad opinions on them and I had no one to talk to anymore about my friend. I didn't want their opinion on them to be ruined any further. I still loved them and cared about them at the end of the day, and I hated how everyone jumped to conclusions just because they caught my friend on one...or several bad days.
Come 2022 where I went through the worst year of my life. I started a new job and quickly became overwhelmed by it, eventually leading to me picking up my past addiction with self harm again. During this time my friend had also picked up on it again and eventually we began to encourage each other. We entered an online community together dedictated to this kinda thing which resulted in things getting so much worse between us. By this point we'd begun planning for me to move out of home and in with them and their family, as my own home life had reached a boiling point that I felt suffocated and trapped. I was desperate to leave even if it meant going to an entirely different state blindly. I'd never been to this state before nor had I even met my friends parents before, but I was desperate to escape. I continued to endure stress from work and eventually moved out earlier this year in January for the first time in my life. This was my first time travelling alone, as well as my first time moving out. I was terrified. I had an awful feeling the entire time.
I moved in with my friend and things were. Weird.
My friend continued the lifestyle of sleeping all day and getting fussy with me for turning on any lights or making too much noise (which at this point was ANY noise), except now I had nowhere to go. We had to share a room since all the other ones were already occupied by their family, my only other option being the living room that I was terrified to go in, as their parent's room was one wall away and had no door to it. They'd hear me if I made any noise. I'd never met my friends family before this and I was deathly afraid of them. They were strangers to me. They've never done or said anything to make me distrust them so much, though with being in an entirely different state miles away from home it couldn't be helped. I was scared the entire time I was there.
I only lived with them for 2 months before I went home. Leading up to this were nights where I got no sleep whatsoever, nights where I'd only be able to sleep for 30 minutes at a time before my friend woke me up due to the music they were playing, ordering mcdonalds every day because I was too scared to go to the kitchen and make food for myself and draining my bank account of all I had left, not being able to use the bathroom because the stress had me so backed up, not knowing how I'd get a job due to my physical condition being less than ideal and nowhere within walking distance was hiring, and more. I wanted to go home so bad. I needed to go home.
When we initially started to plan me moving out and in with my friend and their family, it started with me needing to get out of an chaotic household. But as time went by and we got closer to my departure date, I started wanting to leave so I could go protect my friend again. Their self harming habits and mental health were deteriorating and I was terrified. I didn't want them to die, I wanted to protect them. I stopped caring about leaving because my home life was messy, my motivation was now just going to make sure that my friend was safe. That they weren't going to hurt themselves, that they weren't going to take their life, that they were alive.
My friend continued to hurt themselves. They continued to fall deeper into the pit, even though we shared the same room. I'd find their blades on the counter and the tissues that they forgot to flush, their posts online of their relapses and the vents they thought I couldn't see, they weren't getting better. I was failing. I was losing them.
I dwelled on going home for the later half of my stay. I'd kept failing to protect my friend and my own mental state was deteriorating before my very eyes. I'd never felt so awful. Eventually I reached out to my girlfriend and asked for her advice, for the first time in 3 years of us being together I'd reached out to her for help, for her opinion, for her to tell me what to do, for her to tell me that I'm not crazy and that I was going to be ok and that I was allowed to leave. No one in my life has seen or heard this much of the abusive I'd endurded from this friend, and she was the first, and is the only person who knows. She told me to go home. She told me it was ok.
I broke down and told my friend I was leaving. I ended up having a panic attack. She begged me to stay but quickly dropped it and told me we should go our seperate ways, something I was all too familiar with hearing. I didn't care anymore. I went to the empty guest room and sobbed on the phone to my mom and begged her to come get me, while my friend went and attempted to take their life. I knew they were going to, and I didn't bother to stop. My mom told me she was going to come get me the next morning and that I should start packing, so I did. I packed everything as best as I could and my friend came back to find me on the floor. They were shocked at how far I'd gotten.
I told my friend's parents I was leaving and they called me down to talk to them for a bit. They wanted to make sure I was ok, that things between me and their child were ok, and I told them yes. I told them things were fine. My friend's step dad (a new, non abusive one) initially came upstairs to get me, and we found the front door open. Usually it was locked with 2 different locks, but we brushed it off and relocked it. Eventually towards the end of my talk between me and their parents, the cops knocked on the door. My friend made another attempt on their life via cop. They were sitting outside with the officers and we were all questioned. My friend saw me standing outside as their mom negotiated with them on being warded and they asked: "Why are you out here?" All I said was "Because I care about you, dumbass." That was the last thing (rather full scentence) I said to them before they were taken.
My friend was getting ready to be taken to the ward and they were told to pack their stuff. While they were packing I handed them a squishmallow of mine that I'd had a connection to (Her official name is Cameron, but I'd call her Candy). I'd been wared twice myself, this plushie going with me both times I went. I handed her to my friend and told them to take it. They did, and they were taken away by an ambulance.
I was alone that night. Just me, my stuff, and the mess of a room I'd been living in the past 2 months. There were mcdonalds bags in the corner next to our tiny trashcan that was overflowing, a single lamp we barely used because my friend didn't like the light, cords everywhere from our electronics, a box of trash we used as a door stop, and mold behind my head under the matress I'd been sleeping on. I'd finally realized how much I hated it there.
I didn't get any sleep that night. I'd woken up at 1pm the day I asked my mom to come get me, but I couldn't rest the night before she got there. By 11am she'd picked me up and by 5pm I was back home. I had no contact with my friend anymore as they were in the hospital, and I was under the impression we weren't friends anymore. Words can't describe how...numb. I felt when I got a text from them days later, how empty I felt when they said we were still friends.
Our relationship was severely strained. I'd lost sight of who my friend was and we were so distant with each other afterwards. For the next few months we'd talk irregularly at best and every time I saw their name pop up on my phone my heart would drop. I hated talking to them now because all they'd do is vent and complain about how awful their life was now. For years I'd listen to them vent and complain about anything and everything, I'd give them advice and my unconditional love and support, but now I was drained. I stopped caring. I stopped responding anytime they vented.
Come May of this year, I cut contact with them. I told them and I quote:
"Alright I can't help you anymore.
I'm sorry I want to see you get better and get your life together again, but you have no hope for yourself.
I'm sorry I can't do anything to help you
We need to stop talking
Them: "i wasn't asking for help"
I know you weren't
I love you, but I can't keep being your friend while you're like this
If you ever get better, I want to talk to you again
But this can't keep going on I'm sorry If you continue living and writing your stories, you can use my characters as needed
If you kill yourself and I never get a chance to talk to you again, I really do hope you move onto a better life
I hate seeing you suffer I hope you live a better life.
Whether it be this one or the next
Hopefully I'll talk to you soon
Bye"
I blocked them everywhere I could except for a single site, Toyhouse.
For years we'd been creating our own characters and stories together, ones we owned individually and others we owned together. One of their biggest life-long projects has been a written story that involves 2 of my own characters as part of the main cast. Our shared characters were the SOLE reason I was so hesitant to cut contact, I can't imagine my ocs with anyone else but theirs. I refused to block them on the site and commented on their profile letting them know that I wasn't going to block them there, but I wasn't going to contact them either. They never blocked me, and I never blocked them.
We went a week without eachother and it was hell. The days went by painfully slow and I was deathly afraid that they'd died. By this point I'd developed an awful habit of stalking my friend online on various platforms whenever they'd block my main accounts, and not a single thing was posted anywhere after I cut contact. I was terrified they'd finally succeeded. Eventually I caved and texted their mom, who I still had contact with. I asked her if they were ok, if my friend was alive.
They were ok. I broke down in tears as soon as I'd read it.
Later that day I got a message from my friend on Toyhouse that eventually lead to them asking to be friends again, before going back and demanding I apologize to them, that they were tired of always apologizing to me. I spent the next 3 hours writing an entire essay on how much I regret my choice and how badly I wanted to be friends again, and we were back together. I unblocked them on everything and we went back to normal. Simply saying I wrote and essay isn't enough to hammer in the fact that I was fucking unwell, that I was suffering. I want to post what I sent to my friend so others can SEE it and know what I said, know how desperate I was to befriend them again. Post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50989843 (I tried to use pastebin, but the filter wouldn't let me make the paste public, so please forgive me for using AO3 of all platforms).
We became friends again and if I'm being honest, I don't remember anything leading to this point. From May to now, my memory is failing me. The only thing I remember now is last month, which I'll elaborate now
By the time August came around my friend asked if they could come see me, they wanted to get a train to spend time with me. I told them no, that my mental health was in a bad spot that hanging out wouldn't be a good idea. Weeks of persistent begging and asking if they could come and I caved and agreed to let them come down. However I learned that when I told my girlfriend about this visit, in resulted in her breaking down. Learning this fact destroyed me. She was terrified of the idea of this person coming into my house, sleeping in the same bed as me and being with me that it pushed her to that point. I already didn't want my friend to come visit, but they kept persisting to a point that I was so fucking annoyed that I just agreed so they'd stop. My girlfriend was so worried that I'd be in danger and that this person was going to hurt me, and now I felt worse than ever. My mental state was awful.
For the most part my friend's visit was fine. We didn't do anything too notable, though one night they had a breakdown and cried in front of me, talking about how they didn't want to go on and lord knows what at this point. I fucking forgot. The second night I snuck out in the middle of the night to go to the park so I could spend some time away from them, only to get a text from their mother saying that they were beginning to hint at taking their life. I went back home, went thru them breaking down in front of me again, and I camped out in the living room. I hate the idea of being in my room with them still in there, it terrified me and filled me with rage. At some point I went to the basement and fought the urge to punch and scream at the top of my lungs I was so furious with them, I wanted them gone.
They went home the next day and all was well. I can't remember much from the months following other than our messages became sporadic again, though my friend did claim that they were beginning recovery. I was proud of them, I was happy to see them finally taking their mental health seriously.
Cut to now, present day. We're back at square one.
Once again, they've gone and gained another addiction. Now they've begun snorting pills and romanticizing their own mental illness again. AGAIN. The cycle keeps repeating and getting worse each time. I'm fucking sick of it
I don't even know what to say anymore but there's still so much I could and would and WANT to say, but I've been typing for 2 hours now (Edit: now 3 with all the screenshots i've had to gather) and I'm still not fucking finished. I hate this bitch. I hate them so much. They make my blood boil and I can't stand the idea of them anymore.
This person who I've known for so long, who I've dedicated so much time, love, energy and care into is fucking gone and all that's left is this pathetic husk of a peson who I'm ashamed to call a friend anymore. I don't know who they are, I don't know how we got this far, and I don't know how much more I can take.
I want them gone, I'd go as far as to say I want them dead. I don't care if I'm not a victim, I fucking don't. I won't pretend I am, I've said and done awful things to this person throughout our time together even if I never mentioned it. We're both terribly abusive and I'm at my breaking point, I can't keep fucking doing this. I can't keep dealing with this person I can't fucking I can't i cant
I'm so tired all my life has been for so long as been taking care of this person and convincing them not to kill themselves, not to cut themselves, not to go drink not to go snort drugs not to go get another one night stand that would turn into assault i've tried to help i've tried to ward them off of things that hurt them more i've tried so fucking hard to encourage their recovery to tell them that things are gonna be ok to tell them that theres a reaosn to live to tell them that hteyre worthy of love and they should keep going and im fucking sick of it all ive done for so long si worry about krill worry about anja worry about this fucking "beautiful princess disorder" bastard who i cant help but hate everytime i hear her name i dont care i dont fucking care im tired im exhausted im angry im upset im sad im suicidial im depressed im upset im fucking upset i want out i wanna leave im done i wanna drop it i wanna move on i wanna live my fucking life agaun i wanna be myself i wanna stop worrying about her i wanna do something else i wanna have purpose again i dont want my life to contiune to be her outlet im so tired im tired i want this to end ive almost taken my lidfe just to get away from her ive hurt myself to take my mind off of her ive done so much for her to try and help her to help her improve to give her a reason to keep going ive tried to recover myself ive tried to get her to recover and nothing works it never wokrs its nevr worked its always the same its always been the same ive never made it past freshman year im still 15 and crying on the stairwell alone because my best friend tried to overdose and im still sitting in gym alone with tear stained cheeks because i miss her im still laying in bed crying because none of my messages can be read im still sitting in class worrying if shell ever come back im still 15 im still stuck wondering when my best friend will be back im still wondering if shes gonna be ok and if theres anything i can do to help her im still 15 spending all my time and energy with her in hopes that shell change her mind and decide to live im still
im still here
i havent left
i try to scream and cry, but i always push it back. i never let myself
i still love her
i dont know what id do without her
why cant i hate her
what do i do after shes gone?? who do i talk to? what do i tell everyone when they ask about her?
what am i supposed to do
everytime i go through our chat to find proof that you've hurt me and that i've tried to help you all i find is fond memories that i dont even remember anymore, i smile and laugh at old conversations
whats wrong with me
links to several messages because i NEED someone to see this i need people to see what ive been dealing with for so many years, and even then this is only from the past few MONTHS. I could scalp our messages from the past 4 years on discord and even more from skype and our texts on other socials but i dont have the energy to even do that. this is just from this year alone:
i may send a link to this post to my loved ones so i dont have to say anything again. i want them to know whats been going on and i dont care if i get the "i told you so" from my mom, the "i knew she couldnt be trusted" from my girlfriend, "we never really liked her" from my friends, i dont care. its all right youre all right i FUCKED UP I KNOW i was stupid i did something stupid ive said stupid shit ive dont stupid shit im not a good person but good god if i havent suffered during all this regardless, horrible people can still feel pain and regret im afraid. at least i do (god fucking knows she doesnt anymore) do i want my loved ones to see me in this light? why the ever loving fuck would i! be for fucking real! but i dont care whatever it takes to show them why ive been likle this for so long, why ive doubled down so hard, why ive become a husk of my former self so rapidly, even if it meanes exsposing my own shitty behavior and awful things ive said to someone i loved, if its any explination or closure to those who know me then i dont care
i dont care how awful of a person i am for giving up or thinking that she should die i dont care how awful it is that i played nice for so long only to go behind her back like this i dont care i cant afford to care its either her or me, one of us will end up taking our lives and im fighting SO hard to make sure its not me. im terrified of death and im terrified of losing her even after all this, though the people i love motivate me to carry on even after shes gone (i hope)
i dont know
i never fucking know anymore
what am i supposed to do now?
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