"What's depression like?" He asked.

In memory of the ones I couldn't save.

When I started writing this book, I could've never thought I would end up being some sort of support system for depressed people on the internet. 

If I would've known back then, that that's what would've happened, I'm not sure if I would've still written it. Or published it, for that matter.

I will explain, before maybe any of you start to disagree with me. 

I love writing this book. I love writing in general. It's my way of expressing some of my most difficult emotions, which I can hardly cope with. That's also what this book started as: my way of expressing myself. 

I never meant for it to become so incredibly big. For people to find hope in it, though I'm nothing but glad about that. 

It's not that, which makes this book hard to write sometimes. I love helping you. Especially because I know how you feel. I know what you're going through, I know what you're thinking, I know what you're planning and I know that you feel like there's nothing on earth that could make you feel better. 

Most of the times, I manage to help someone. I manage to give them advice or simply listen to them. Sometimes I don't even have to talk to them, but they read a chapter and manage to find new strength instantly. 

But sometimes this is not the case.

Sometimes I try to help someone and fail.

Not many of you have stopped to think about that. 

I have failed to keep people alive. To make them feel better. To make them understand that things do get better.

And that's hard. That's really fucking (excuse me) hard. Because all I want to do is to be able to make it all okay for you guys. To turn your frown into a smile and to keep you here, with all of us, on this planet which sometimes happen to absolutely suck. 

I'm not going to say how many or who I've lost, but what I will say is that it has hurt me over and over and over again. When one of you tells me that, regardless of my efforts, you don't see any point in living anymore, I break inside.

I break inside, because I love you. I may not know you personally, I may not know what your favorite color is or what your favorite animal is or what you're actually going through, but I love you. 

Suicide is not an answer. You might think it's an answer and you might think that it will solve everything - and it probably will. It will probably solve everything, but what about the people who are left behind?

What about me?

You are not a project to me. You're not one of those so many others sending me a private message asking for help. You mean something to me. 

I understand that suicide seems like the easiest solution sometimes. That it seems like the only option, because life is so hard and everything inside of you hurts, as if someone is beating you up with a baseball bat. I know that you sometimes don't care about the people who care about you. Who love you. That you just want to get rid of that terrible, terrible pain.

But don't. Please, whatever you do, don't commit suicide.

Life will probably never get easier, but you will get stronger. Things won't seem so bad anymore. Things won't hurt so terrible anymore. 

You'll meet people, see places, do things that you wish you'd never missed. Things you will miss if you leave. 

I will always walk around with the people I couldn't save in my thoughts. I ask myself what I could've done better. What I did wrong. What I missed. 

Don't do that to me. 

- Kyran