TRIGGER WARNING - covers suicide, depression, guilt, and other heavy topics

Months ago an old classmate of mine, Nate, took his life. It was a shock to all and devastating news to hear. Unlike another experience years ago, Nate's death wasn’t recognized the same way, many stayed silent, including the school he was enrolled in. The weeks of silence at my school and the school he attended were heart-wrenching to witness. Not a single classmate in my grade who was aware, including myself, had the courage to be the one to speak up, or even the courage to acknowledge our school isn’t addressing this the way they should.

I met Nate over zoom, specifically when I was assigned a project with him and he was my partner. I was annoyed how he didn’t do as much work as me on the project, but it’s not like I've never done the same thing. He kept me company by cracking jokes, I remember one time he went on Wikipedia and changed all the names in an article to be his. 

I later met Nate in person that spring after going back fully in person. He loved making his classmates laugh, no matter how fed up our teacher was with him blaring out. He wouldn’t care how many jokes he made, or even if people were laughing, he would still make them. 

Over the summer I saw him maybe once or twice. I wouldn’t have called us friends but we were for sure friendly. 

Nate honestly didn’t cross my mind until the day he walked into my group at Compass Mental Health Center. I was sitting curled in a ball writing in my journal when I looked up to see his face. I could tell he didn’t want to be there and I knew seeing an old classmate threw him off because it threw me off, too. I was in and out of Compass PHP and IOP for almost my entire freshman year and half of my sophomore year, so to say the least I’m familiar with their programs. I could sense he was scared, embarrassed, and just wanted to run out of the building and never come back, but he didn't. He sat down and introduced himself politely, listening and respecting the staff. We pretended not to know each other and started group therapy like it was nothing. I was going to tell my therapist I knew Nate so I would switch into a different group, that way he could feel more comfortable sharing, but by the end of the meeting Nate was sharing with the group so I felt no need. This was back in November, and by January Nate and I were still in the same group. I don't know why I decided not to tell my therapist, maybe it was a selfish decision, maybe I felt safe with a familiar face in the room and wrongfully assumed he felt the same. I felt comfortable, the paranoia of him telling others that I was at Compass eventually faded, and I hope Nate felt the same.   

I walked into Compass on January 13th wanting to meet with my individual therapist. I had a lot I wanted to unpack with her, most of those things revolving around the fact it had been one year since I overdosed. I asked a staff member if I could meet with my therapist and they told me my therapist was out for the day. I remember sitting there waiting for the meeting to start, tears were rolling down my cheek as I thought about what I've put my family through in the past year. The meeting started and I zoned out, thinking about the moments of consciousness I had in the ambulance, and how in those moments all I did was pray that I would close my eyes and they would never open again. 

It was time for group therapy and I decided to share. I briefly shared that I attempted a year ago on this day and how I truly believed I wouldn’t be alive at that moment. I wanted to give others hope to know what they are feeling now won’t last forever, even though you believe it will. 

I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be my last memory of Nate, sharing about my suicide attempt. 

My close friend called me crying a few days later and told me on the phone he died. I didn’t believe it at first, I couldn’t. She started crying even more and I felt my entire body start to intensely ache. Tears start to form in my eyes as I gain enough courage to ask do you know what day he died. 

January 13th. 

At first I blamed myself completely. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact I survived and he didn’t. I couldn’t wrap my head around how unfair it is that I’m alive right now and he’s not. I put the idea of suicide in his head and thought the reason he is dead was because of me. 

I wish I could say I don’t still struggle with the guilt, but I do. 

Last Friday marked one full year since Nate’s passing. Nate was a bright soul who is sincerely missed by all, even by those who weren't close with him, like me. Though I wasn’t close with Nate, he still had an impact on my life. I will never forget Nate, and Nate will never be forgotten.

Please remember to check in on your friends and reach out to others if you or someone you know is struggling mentally. Remember, struggling mentally is not something you need to hide from others or be ashamed of, you are never alone. Text ‘Home’ to 741741 for Crisis Text Line or call National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255.