When I was a teenager, I made a lot of online friends because I was home alone a lot during ages of 13to 15, before I could drive. I made two friends TerryJr and Bitman. That was their handles. Bitman’s real name escapes me, all I remember is that he was Dutch but spoke English and was around his mid 30’s. Terry was in his late 20’s. And I was a teenager at the time – I think. I don’t remember how I met them, but they were computer nerds like me. Maybe in a computer chat room when I was asking questions about how to build websites, maybe not, I can’t quite remember a lot of the details. But I know that my friendship with them overlapped into my sophomore year in college. I was a bit closer to Terry and I remember talking to him about what college I was going to and I remember him being excited for me. I remember asking Bitman questions about a programming class I was taking – he was programmer, they both were, and I delighted that I could ask the questions about how to build things. In a way, they filled that same gap in my life – a male figure to look up to, to help with my homework, to care about me… at all.
You see, as much as I loved my brother Eddie, him and Juan moved out of the house as soon as they could. They left me behind and never looked back. I don’t really blame them but I didn’t have anyone to support me either. Shortly after we moved to a new area and I had no friends. My parents started their new business, so they were gone, constantly. I was home alone all day with nothing but the internet to occupy me. This is why I ended up meeting so many people online. Terry and Bit were just part of my online social circle.
I talked to these two online about random shit all the time. Actually, back then I used to journal a lot too – as much as I am now. I remember Bit saying he never journaled because he felt like it was for people with too much time on their hands. It kinda stung, and that’s actually the reason I stopped journaling all together. Still, they helped guide me when it came to computers and Terry was a bit softer and easier to talk to so I spent more time connecting with him. So when I decided to kill myself; he was the only person I told.
I made it to the middle of my sophomore year before dropping out. I had struggled so badly with depression, anxiety, alcohol, all of my past demons came erupting up to haunt me. Sophomore year, I actually lived next to my freshman dorm roommate, Catherine. That year we had a short fling together, we remained friends and had separate dorm rooms but right next to each other. But even though she lived right next to me, she never knew how badly I struggled either – just that I seemed erratic at times.
Schoolwork piled up because of my inability to break through my anxiety and complete projects. I kept feeling like I was failing because no matter how hard I tried I seemed to keep getting B’s and C’s, when I had sailed right through High School with minimal effort and earned A’s and B’s easily. But in this program, I struggled. Likely, because on the weekends and weeknights, I was either gaming with friends, traveling, or going to parties. There was always alcohol, lots of empty sex, and then I would endure the fall out of hang overs and mood swings into depression. It’s no wonder I couldn’t focus on school.
One week I had a major project due. I felt so inept in completing it, and with my grades dropping, I felt like a complete failure. So I decided rather than face the shame of failing out of college that I would rather kill myself. Which btw, I wouldn’t have failed out, I probably would have just gotten some C’s that semester, but it felt way worse than that. The anxiety was crippling.
I remember opening up an IM screen to message Terry. I told him something to the effect that I really appreciated him and would really miss him and then closed my laptop. I didn’t reach out to my best friend, or Catherine in the dorm room directly next to me, I didn’t tell my family, or anyone else – just Terry. And it was the right choice, because I remember his last message to me before I shut the laptop, “You’re scaring me.”
As I’ve told the story before, Terry called the campus police. They alerted some emergency suicide crew who came knocking on my door. I let them in, they talked to me, I went to the hospital, got diagnosed bipolar, did some therapy, went home, got hella shamed, moved out, basically was homeless for a bit, but eventually came out of it. And obviously I made it. But the worst part about this is – these people, Terry, Bit, Catherine – they never spoke to me again.
I reached out shortly after all of it, but never got a response. Rejected for failing. Another reinforcement that I should never show the world how much pain I was in. That maybe it would have been better if I successfully killed myself rather than face the shame of living with a suicide attempt on my record. I tried to reach out to Catherine and Terry years later and received almost nothing. Catherine’s mom basically told me she didn’t want anything to do with me. But, I was able to track down Terry and tell him how thankful I was that he reached out; that he had saved my life. He did tell me that he was glad I was okay, but then he ghosted me.
It wasn’t everyone who I knew that reacted like this… but it was a few that I trusted, that I had bonded with, that I thought would be there for me. But, in the end, as much as it stung, I accepted it. After all, in a string of disappointing relationships, it was just another abandonment.