Friends are good support system during dark days

Figuring out who your people are can limit feelings of helplessness, help with self-worth



When Evergreen reporter Alexandria Osborne moved to Pullman for the first time when the pandemic hit, she lived alone and experienced loneliness, which negatively impacted her mental health.


I have been struggling with suicidal thoughts and self-harm since I was a freshman in high school. Since then, I have been working to find different ways to avoid ending it all when things get bad. 

A lot of my suicidal tendencies originated from me blocking people out of my life when I started considering self-harm. I would push important people away to avoid stressing them out or worrying them, which only made it worse because I had nobody to talk to. 

I remember writing out my suicide note on the last day of my freshman year of high school. I had plans with my friends later that night, so I hid it in my drawer. 

That night ended up being fun. My friends made me feel happy, and I realized I just couldn’t leave them. I ripped up that note when I got home, and I thought I was okay.

And I was for about six months. 

Sophomore year of high school was when I really got into self-harm and left a few marks on my wrist. I considered therapy but ended up not going because I wanted to bottle everything up instead; I wanted to ignore what was going on in my head. 

That was an unhealthy way to cope, but I didn’t self-harm for over two years. 

While I still had suicidal thoughts in the back of my head for the rest of my high school career, especially once the pandemic hit, I managed to keep myself safe from the sharp objects around my house. 

Because of the pandemic, I moved to Pullman for the first time this past spring. It was my first time living by myself; I didn’t even have a roommate at the time. 

After about a month of living in the dorms by myself, I really started to feel alone. I wasn’t going out as much as I hoped and I didn’t have as many friends as I used to. I hurt myself for the first time in two and a half years. 

I called my boyfriend for a couple of hours and cried. The hardest part of that night was telling him what had happened; I didn’t want to worry him or stress him out. 

He pushed me in the direction of therapy. 

I saw a therapist for about three months. It felt awkward and uncomfortable, and I eventually stopped going. I felt like I was in a good place mentally after a few sessions, and I didn’t see the need to talk to someone every week anymore. 

Being back home for the summer and out of school was a good refresher for me. I was able to see my boyfriend again and was able to reconnect with some friends from home. I made some memories and gave myself connections for when I came back to school so I wouldn’t feel so alone. 

Everything was off to a good start when I moved back to Pullman in August. But things started to get rough a month in, just like when I moved up here the first time. 

I recently relapsed, and it was hard to admit it actually happened. I was tired all the time and I was distancing myself from my friends.

And, with everyone talking about suicide prevention month, a lot of emotions came back to me. 

That night, I messaged my boyfriend and a few of my friends. I needed people to know I was starting to go down a dark hole again, so if I felt like relapsing in the future, I would have a few people to call to help me get through it. 

I am unsure about going back to therapy because of how awkward it was for me the first time, so having a few friends to fall back on for support helps me know I have something worth living for.