So... I loved this boy, it started out amazing, we would talk every day over text, send heaps of photos, funny and nice photos. I was beyond happy. And then I found out that he had depression, after that things got a little shaky because i had no idea how to help him, i had no idea what to do in the situations where he was telling me he felt horrible and the situations where he wanted to end his life. I was across the country, far away from him helpless as he struggled by himself with his thoughts. I wanted so badly to hug him and always be there for him, I told him that I was always a call away if he needed someone to talk to. He called me late at night one night, I woke up and answered of course. He told me that he felt horrible and didnt know what to do, of course me being me, I didnt know what to do either so I just tried to calm him down and think of things we could do together over the phone. I told him I loved him and that I would always be there for him if he needed me. It was true, so true that it ate away at me. He called again, and the next night he called again. I would stay up talking to him making sure that he was okay before I told him I needed to get some sleep, and then I would wake up and there would be horrible messages of him saying that he felt like killing himself, and that he needed me on the phone and I'd just feel horrible for going to sleep that night. I'd go to school, that would be fine, I would message him there every day just asking him how everything is going, if hes okay. Mostly it was okay, but I was always tired, at first I completed all of my work, always ahead of the other students, passing with merits but then everything got worse, our school relocated and we were now attending a new school that had just been built. Everything was still fine, normal. I was sitting in English one day just trying to concentrate, wondering why on earth I'm not doing my work. English is my favorite subject, what am I doing, until I just started to cry, my eyes wouldn't stop. My body was so overwhelmed and numb that I couldn't process what was happening, I didnt know what to do, i went to the bathroom and just started wiping them away, the only thing i remember thinking was wanting to die, the need to just die was so powerful that I didnt think of anything else. I kept going back to my seat trying to do my work but I just couldn't, I walked back to the bathroom and wiped them away again and again until I decided that I wanted to go home. I went to the counsellors office for the first time that year and asked if I could go home. I told the boy that I needed some time away, some time to think, and I broke up with him for a bit while, i needed some space so i asked for a break. It was ok for a while. I stayed home for over 2 weeks going to counsellors appointments, they prescribed me sleep medication so I could sleep properly, that was ok. The boy told kept telling me how hurt he was that I put our relationship on hold, and that he couldn't live without me. It felt horrible it felt like he was stabbing me all over my body, I was drenched in him, drowning ever so slowly and I needed help, I felt trapped being with him. I felt unsafe. I needed to get out. So I broke up with him completely, no break this time, I just broke it off. Everything hurt, there was no reason to live, I didnt want to be alive and I didnt want to have to deal with all of these emotions, and all of the pain that came with a break up. I went to a meeting with my counselor one morning, like I always do and she admitted me into a hospital that's supposed to help people who need to be helped. I hated it there at first, it was horrible. Not like my home at all, and I am a home person, I love my house a lot, I love my room a lot. But this hospital was home to me for probably the worst ever time in my life. It helped, it helped me a lot. I'm not going to go into detail about the hospital, but it did help me, and im now okay. The boy and i dated for 8 months, and I had never met him, yet he took this much of a toll on me.
