Good, the title didn’t scare you off. I guess this is what my last post was meant to touch on.
This post is both an outside account of my flatmate’s attempted suicide & my thoughts on the topic. If you want his own perspective on the experience he has written a post about it.
I feel I’ve left this post too late as the suicide attempt seems like just an uneasy memory now; even the guy himself seems “meh” about it. Also I’ve somehow perked myself back into taking some action over the past week rather then being mopey. Odd since (spoiler alert) I still don’t have a “real reason” for living & I keep getting signs I’m not just suddenly better, if my mentally restless evenings are anything to go by. This I’ll talk about later.
Suddenly it’s like writing these posts is the most important thing to do in my life.
Since late March, the flatmate had brought up thoughts about committing suicide. We have been feeling concerned about him, yet the reality of it didn’t seem to seep in until he did something a month later.