I say this with tears flowing as I find out yet another one of my dear friends has killed themselves. I can barely breathe at the thought that another good person, who struggled with this horrible disease, has gone.

Depression is no fucking joke. It's not funny to say, "this is your tape" or to dress up as an emo kid, fake cuts on your wrist. Depression hurts, more than just the person in it, but those around them too. I struggle with it and I see how much it hurts my partners, my mom, my few friends.

I self harmed from 7th grade to freshman year of college, it was almost like a drug I took, addictive. But I stopped because of him. Michael helped me to see why it wasn't worth it to hurt myself anymore and that there were healthy ways of dealing with sorrow and pain. It's been nearly 7 years now that I haven't hurt in that way, and he promised me he wasn't either. But then I wake up to a message from a mutual friend with his obituary and i just....

I'm mad. I'm furious that he thought we would be better off without him. That our lives would be less depressing without him in it. No, my life is in fact more depressing as for the first time in almost 7 years, I want to selfharm to deal with his loss.

I just needed to get this out there, somewhere that wasn't Facebook or Twitter, somewhere that I could just say what I needed to.

Michael, I loved you, you were one of my few close friends that I trusted with every aspect of my being and you are gone. I don't know how to deal with that. I don't think I'll ever get used to this feeling of you not being there anymore.

Sleep well. I'll see you in the next go round.

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