I'm in Year 12, moved to Australia just a while ago, and while relived, it's still hard for me. I keep remembering old memories, obsessing over them and struggling to move on. I'm always pulled back to my deep depression afterwards, it makes me feel like I'll never be able to move on. It was only 3 months, but it changed me completely, and no one here understands. Even if I find people that I slightly relate to, maybe they also like the same hobbies, or I find someone queer, maybe someone from my country, but it's not enough. I feel so isolated and lonely, I lost the reason I stayed alive after leaving that place,my friends. I'm scared, I'm losing my connection to the only people who were in that hospital with me, the only people that know me and can make me feel better. I keep thinking, if some are dead or back in the hospital. There were two that I kept reaching out to but rejected me, saying they are going through a difficult time. What happened to them? Are they still suicidal? Should I worry? And what about the others? My only relief comes from a friend who said she's studying in uni to be a psychiatrist. We were in the same room together, and I always worried about her. She went through much more than any other human should, but it's still not the same. I can't meet her, I can't meet anyone. They are so far away. Even if I do, there are fears that a new war will start soon and I might need to cancel my plans. I'm never going back to that horrible country, I refuse to live there, I hate everything about it, but it's still my home, and all my friends are there. What will happen to them? Most of them are struggling. All the friends I went to school with have quit, all for different reasons, but mostly because the school got so much worse after I left. I feel responsible, as someone who always protected them and tried to support them. I abandoned them. In Australia, I've focused so much on myself, I tried to avoid anything uncomfortable, like the friends I left behind. I was worried the truth would be too painful. I enjoy our relationships, but they make me feel comfortable enough, and so I start talking again, about that horrible hospital and that horrible country full of all my worst and best memories. Thinking about my loved ones still there, I know it's hard for them. But I can't support them. I have to protect myself, but I know I can't avoid it, how I left them, how I didn't take care of them when they needed my help. I'm a selfish, bad friend.
