Losing A Friend and Listening To A Friend

I got a phone call Friday morning. I didn't want to answer. I had a feeling I knew what my friend on the other line was going to say. It was confirmed when I got a text just a few seconds after it went to voicemail. My dear friend, Box, had passed. The Thursday night before, I had gotten a text from my friend, Tyler Boone. He explained how Box had gone missing and nobody could figure out where he had gone. I was asked to keep an eye out and share a post to spread the word. Of course I had no problem doing that, and I was more than willing to help in anyway I could. Yet, there was something inside of me that was building and boiling, bringing me fear and familiarity. I knew what Box was feeling and thinking. 

There's no hope. 

There's no point. 

Nobody would care. 

I am writing this post today because I wanted to talk about something very close to my heart. Since I was 7 I had this feeling, this cloud, that hung over my head. I felt as though I carried a constant weight with me that was pushing me further and further into the ground, until eventually I would disappear into the earth but nobody would hear me calling out for help. Depression is a monster. Suicide is a monster. It is an illness that I will live with my whole life. I will have bad days, but I will also have good days. I will have days where I feel like the ground is pulling me under again, and nobody cares. I will have days where I am smiling and ready to take on the world. I know now that a lot of the dark thoughts are not true, and that I can't let them control me. I am not alone no matter what my brain tells me. I didn't believe that I would make it to twenty because of how worthless I saw my life, but now I am twenty years old and I see that I have a future waiting for me. 

Hearing that my friend was struggling and felt so lost and alone, it breaks me. I know what he was going through, he wasn't alone, he never was. I wish everyday that I could've talked to him one last time. So, I take this post and I give it to you. You are not alone. You are so loved. People would miss you. There is nothing wrong with getting help, in fact I strongly encourage you to seek help. Everyone is different and you need to talk to a professional so you can figure out what works for you. For example, medication, taking a day to breathe, and being open to my family really helps me. I try to surround myself with things that make me happy and with people I know will understand. 

I leave you with this: if you are struggling, please feel free to reach out to me. I am happy to help you in any way that I can, but keep in mind that I am no professional and I highly recommend you reaching out to your doctor. 

There is hope. 

You are not alone. 

Everyone would care. 

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 

Rest in peace, Richard Box Bachschmidt. We love you.


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