I'm actually viciously angry about it, in hindsight. Funny, since anger's meant to be the alarm system of your body- recognition that something was wrong, amiss- unjust. Something to goad you into action. I cannot fucking believe those people. If my loved one, hell, even if it was a random acquaintance, or a hobbyist space mutual, made mention of joining a suicide forum- I would be at the very least, curious, concerned. I can't believe not a single person in my life at that time gave a single fuck about it.
I guess it's to be expected, though. No one gave a shit when I tried to kill myself, either. I'm glad they're out of my life. It makes me sick to know that they're walking around, so convinced that they're good people, and their friendships that I helped to facilitate are as 'strong as ever,' sure- until you're too mentally ill to be deemed acceptable, I'm sure. Have a nice goddamn life. I hope one day you wake up completely and utterly alone, having surrounded yourself with the same shallow, fairweather friendship you gave to me. I hope it eats you fucking alive.