I mentioned in a previous post that I lost my closest friend to suicide.
Her name was Paige. She was a beautiful, 15-year-old girl, and I spent most of my time with her. We were like twins.
Paige…she didn’t seem to have any mental illnesses, but I guess that’s because it’s so easy to hide it. She was like a light;she always knew what to say, or what to do. Her life was a beautiful one-she had it good, but mental illnesses don’t care about your quality of life.
I never noticed anything wrong, or out of the ordinary.
It came as a complete shock to me when her mother told me she’d taken her own life. Maybe I was just so wrapped up in my own problems I was oblivious to everything else.
It didn’t really help that I was dealing with mental health issues of my own. She gave me her full attention-she always took the time to listen to me, and just sit with me, even when she could be doing something way more fun. I still sometimes think that her mental health suffered as a consequence of mine. It’s not exactly fair to load another person with your problems and expect them to be okay with it.
She was everything to me, and I still blame myself for it. It’s not been the same since.