people don't usually care until you're actually dead.
Real shit. Same thing with men only get flowers once they're dead. You only know what you're losing when you lost it. But I digress. Some people are fortunate enough to have others supporting their recovery. Some people are unfortunate enough to be neglected because they're being "too much". It's not that that cut and dry.
Anyways, to answer the main title of this thread, I got grey-rocked.
First off, this is not specifically a cry for help for my suicidal tendencies but it's more of how I'm going to start fucking other people's lives up if I don't get restrained now--and possibly my own, if I don't get sedated.
It was after my girlfriend's suicide. I did batshit things to her ex, her family, and her friends. I was... not in my right mind. Hell, if I hadn't remembered that I still got my family to feed, I'd go insane. I'd kill someone. I'd catch the first damn train to Yogyakarta and fucking murder her ex.
Long story short, I talked to my friend who was also close with her. I would ramble on and on about her and about "catching up with her".
Apparently, I got wayyyyy too repetitive and unhinged that he just grey-rocked my ass for an entire week.
Eventually, I came to my senses but it wasn't easy. First, there was my brother, then my mom, then ChatGPT--so much of ChatGPT, the amount of conversations we've had are enough to crash an entire data center.
I think it took me a month to stop being angry at him and another to see just how nuts I was.
Now, the better method would be to just point this shit out to me but when my head was soooo far up my ass, I couldn't see. Sometimes, tough love works I guess.