A Day in the Life... Because They Say It's Only Teenage Wasteland

I am thirteen years old. I am in eighth grade. And three of my friends have told me that they want to end their lives. Within the past three months.

To set the record straight, despite my moody friends, I am definitely not Emo. I can't say the same about them, however...

Depression has become socially acceptable. Going to a therapist, taking medication- it's become so stylized now, and in my small suburban town, considered "cool." There is absolutely nothing wrong with being depressed- with being sad. But the teens of my age have trouble realizing the difference between depression, and being suicidal. One does not always accompany the other, but that's just what it has come to mean.

When you text someone, and say "I can't do this anymore... I don't deserve to live, I should be punished. I should die... I shouldn't be able to live anymore." what the hell are you supposed to do? I'm 13. I am emotionally drained, and I carry the unnecessary burden of three one-sided friendships in which I am supposed to be the therapist. I feel like a walking Crisis Center.

One of my best friends left me five voicemails when I was away last Christmas break. I called her as soon as I got back, only to find that she had considered committing suicide because I wasn't answering the phone. This is almost a year ago. And there have been many more episodes of her blaming her depression on me, because I'm not always there to answer an email, or my phone...
Well, excuse me for not being addicted to technology.
She claims that she has been depressed for years, and only now really realized what it meant. She calls it the hole in her heart that can never be mended. When she told me what she was thinking of doing, I was shaken to the core. I was so scared- I was going to sleep at night, wondering whether or not I would see her in school the next day, and if I didn't, it would be my fault.
But I never did anything to her.
Her parents are both doctors and never home, and has a nanny to take care of her, her twin, and her little sister. Her and her twin sister are both very intelligent, but for some reason, she thinks that her parents favor her twin. She is also very sheltered- never allowed to watch TV, parental controls on the computer until last year, and still without a cell phone.
She sends me these pages long emails of her journal entries that she wrote during her "darkness" phase. And I cry, because it is so heartbreaking for me to see what she is feeling. She blames so much of her sadness on me... after I would spend hours listening to her sob on the phone, lamenting about her terrible life. I was always there for her when she needed me, and always asked, "Are you okay? I mean for real..."
She thinks that she is there for me. But she twists everything around to be about her. She will ask me, "how are you?" If I ever reply something along the lines of "I'm tired," she will launch into a whole story about how much more tired she is than me. And I just let her rant. She is just exhausted, she says- going to bed at nine o' clock every night after a hard day of school. I neglect to tell her that I spend most nights up until one or two o' clock to accomplish all that I need to in my anal perfectionist life.

Her sadness is taking its toll on me... I feel so exhausted. And with two more friends just like her, I wonder if anyone will ever be there to take care of ME if I need them. To everyone in school, I am known as the "super nice rocker chick" who will drop everything and help anyone...
This is true...
True to the point, where I become a doormat over which angsty, depressed, and suicidal girls decide to stomp on.

There is only so much stress that I can handle... my greatest fear is becoming like those who I am forced to take care of. I am constantly told that they are not my responsibility...
But if something were ever to happen to any of them....
I would feel completely responsible.
For what reason?
Not because I was a bad friend, or never there for them...
but because I couldn't answer that text.
"... And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds, are quite immune to your consultations. They are quite aware of what they are going through..." "Changes" - David Bowie

~Sora Waverly