Depression is a nasty bitch

Hearing of the suicide of Chester Bennington and the amount of comments I read, triggered me a bit and have made a memory become more present to me. As someone who struggles with suicidal thoughts since I was a teenager, I want to share some thoughts.
Comments like “Why he didn’t seek for help?” and telling suicidal people to reach out for help, it’s not that easy. Depression is a nasty bitch. No matter how often friends show me their support and tell me they will be there for me and listen, depression tells me otherwise.
“They just want to be nice.”
“You bother them with your silly problems.”
“Your problems aren’t that bad. People won’t take you serious.”
“You are a burden to them if you keep crying over your problems.”
And many more stuff, depression always tells me when I feel bad and think about reaching out to someone. This, mixed with the fear, that people anyway don’t want to be my friends, holds me away to reach out.

There were a situation with a friend in 2014. At this time I was very depressed and suicidal to that level that I was already thinking about on how and when to kill myself. My friend were DJ-ing at a bar in Helsinki and I just went over there because I thought it was a good distraction from my thoughts. Actually I wanted to meet another friend there who then let me down and didn’t show up. So I was sitting alone on my table because I couldn’t find my other friend yet. When he came welcoming his other friends, he noticed me and during the night he often stopped by to chat with me. In the end of the night when the bar got more empty, he took me beside to ask me if I was ok. I said yes, because I didn’t want to bother him. He was out with friends and girlfriend and I didn’t want to be annoying. He kept asking me for a whole while if I really was ok but I couldn’t tell him. His girlfriend were watching us and how could I have started talking about such a dark and sensitive topic?
When he noticed that I couldn’t tell him what was up, he embraced me long and tight, and then told me that “everything will gonna be alright again.” He didn’t know what was up, I couldn’t tell him but anyway he wanted to make me feel better. He showed me his support this night, reached me a hand.
Looking back at this situation, I do feel guilty now. For that I haven’t taken his offer and seed for his advice. I’m sorry, I couldn’t open up to him although I kinda wanted to. Not like I didn’t want to, I couldn’t. Not like I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t know how to. And now it feels like I missed my chance and he wouldn’t give me the same offer again.

So, the “reach help” advice might be meant nice but isn’t really helpful for suicidal people whose brain tell them lies. I don’t even know what my friend could have done different to make me be able to open up. Asking one more time, after the thousand times he did already? Asking me directly if we wanted to go somewhere else to talk so we would be alone so other people wouldn’t listen? Maybe that. For now it just feels like I did a huge mistake and that he won’t give me a second chance.

Yeah, depression is a nasty bitch.

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