These sorts of personal-slash-poetic posts don't usually do well but that doesn't really matter, there's more to life than the dopamine rush of a viral post.
Last year I had a falling out with my best friend, who long-time readers (lol) will know as Ellis. It is probably terminal - despite my overtures, Ellis does not want to reconcile with me and probably never will. Frankly that makes me pretty pissed off at her, which sucks, because despite it, she's the best person I know.
Life without Ellis around is worse, but truthfully, my life has been on a decline for a long time. My optimism in my late teens and early 20s that I would gradually get my shit together, form lasting friendships and progress through a career has been shattered. I have struggled at work, I have lost my home, and now I have lost my best friend - the person with whom I had the easiest camaraderie, a person who seemed to understand and appreciate me like few others.
I've tried getting out, doing more, doing new things, meeting new people, spending quality time around existing friends, doing exercise, being creative, eating healthily, comfort eating, sleeping more, sleeping less, meditating, being mindful, being grateful. I've tried pregabalin, fluoxetine, mirtazapine, sertraline, venlafaxine, and psilocybin. I have tried psychodynamic therapy, cognitive behaviour therapy, art therapy, counselling, dialectical behaviour therapy, and acceptance and commitment therapy. I have supplemented with multivitamins, omega-3, magnesium, and spiralina.
I'm not saying any of those things were useless, but fundamentally my life has only got worse, and I no longer want to live it without my. The only thing that stops me from killing myself is the thought of my parents finding out I'd died.