Long Live the King

**Trigger warning: this story contains content about suicide

As I watched my best friend die in my arms, blood gurgling out of his mouth, I felt the world had stopped. I told him he would be okay, I wouldn't leave his side. I stayed with him until the last possible moment, before he was taken away by the ambulance. His last calls for help echoed through my mind, and the idea that this was all my fault because I could not get to him even though he was only seven floors above me raised guilt in my brain.

Since then, I have been battling depression.

I got home and cycled between watching TikToks and listening to calm music. I was trying to pretend like it did not happen, like it was all just a dream. I received a call from his mother five hours later; she asked me to meet her at a hotel. I showed up and she explained to me that he had passed away. I could not even cry, I was so in shock.

Afterwards, I tried everything I could to help myself get better, but it felt like nothing mattered anymore. Eventually, I attempted suicide. I stood up at the same corner he did and contemplated it. Still, I could not bring myself to it. I was lucky enough that my other friends also lived in that building, and they talked me down. They called the police, who took me to a mental health facility.

While there, I felt trapped for the first few days. I just wanted to go home and be with family and friends. After some time, I settled in and accepted I needed help. Music therapy and meditation really helped me clear my mind. EMDR therapy was especially helpful in this process. I talked about the adventures he and I used to go on, how he was the only friend I could really, truly talk to about my problems knowing 100% he would not judge me, and how he loved being called King Balaaj. In fact, he made that his Instagram. I talked about how I would live for him and become the lawyer we had always dreamed to become, as well as own that law firm we wanted.

I was released after five days, and I went home to family. Shortly after, I met my girlfriend, who I love very much. I would never have met her if it was not for the pain I was going through. And so, through it all, I thank my best friend Balaaj, for being the best wingman I could have ever asked for, even through death.

I started going to counseling. This was during COVID, so I could only do zoom calls, but even that helped. I took a mindfulness class at my university to teach me how to meditate and relax the mind. I read ADAA articles for tips on how to overcome this depression and the grieving process. I would pray every night to help me go to sleep. And after a few months, I was happy again. I found some new friends that I love very much, and my girlfriend and family are always by my side no matter what goes wrong. I started to work out, as helping the body helps the mind, and started eating healthier.

I do not use his death as a way to keep me down anymore, depressed and un-resting. I now use it as fuel to reach the goals we always talked about. It has focused my mind once more to what I want to become, and I will stop at nothing to achieve it. While I still live for him, I live for myself too. 

I have not had any suicidal thoughts since then. Some days are harder than others, and I try my best to do what I can to help me through them. Lavender tea and meditation always seem to help. I have recently started going to church more often, to get closer to my faith. The depression comes and goes; sometimes I am content and other times I am down in the dumps. On these days, I contact my friends and family. It helps to be around people that love you.

I miss my best friend. This is a given. But I cannot let his death keep me down. I must use it as an incentive to shoot farther than I ever have. And even though I wish everyday that he was still here, I know I will see him again one day, and when I do, I can tell him all about the things I accomplished in our name. Long Live the King.