LostAzure411 Member Profile

My closest friend was convicted

Grief & Loss / by LostAzure411

September 14th, 2024

...See more Trigger warning: death, murder, racism, bullying It’s been a few years now. I have posted about this before, certainly in the trauma thread and probably here as well. I don’t want to make this the only thing in my life, but I don’t think anything has affected me more. I met him when I was an 8th grader, he was in 7th. Initially, I found him a bit annoying, like a puppy that won’t stop pulling at your pant leg while you’re trying to work. We took an advanced studies class together, and each had a project and budget to work on throughout the class. He would constantly ask me questions about what I was doing and why. What made me finally warm up to him was the fact that I realized he was probably the only person who genuinely cared about what I was doing, and so I gave him more of my attention, even editing his book for him. When we were each in high school, all my friends slowly found new cliques, moved away, or graduate before me. He was the only one who stayed by my side through it all. That was probably when I started to notice that people were constantly giving him a side eye, whispering behind his back, and on occasion throwing a slur his way. He was one of the few black kids in our town. It wasn’t made much better by the fact that his mom was an addict, only getting clean when his little sister was born. I know it made him feel like he was the rough draft for the kid she actually wanted. I shouldn’t have had to be responsible for him. I was just a kid then. Even so, I chose to be. I answered his questions when teachers wouldn’t call on him. I took him to physical therapy when his mom was high at home. I gave him what advise I could. Maybe that’s why, when he graduated, and when he told me he would be moving elsewhere with his girlfriend, I didn’t think anything was wrong. I was proud. I thought he had found the one, and he would be okay without me. A year or so later, he came back, I bought them dinner for his birthday, and chatted with them. He was in the bathroom at one point, and she told me about how much they love their new place, and her job as a kindergarten teacher. Two months later, I was sitting in my parents living room, and I saw the headline that he had been arrested for her murder. I did everything I could to deny it, until I saw his mugshot. I don’t know why, but that was when I knew. I’ve been through a lot since then, spiraling through emotions and ways to cope, but what I landed on is this. He did something horrible, and I will never forgive him. Even so, I can’t act like he was the only person at fault. Countless people came forward saying “they always knew he was a monster”. They always knew? They looked at a twelve year old boy, and hated him immediately? How could I act like the constant overt racism he dealt with isn’t to blame in part? How can I say that I truly believe he deserved to be ostracized? Even so, I am afraid. What If I am back to that initial denial again, trying to point the finger at anyone who isn’t me. I can’t say that there was nothing I could have done, or no way I could have known. It’s too unfair if he was unsavable. The world isn’t so cruel that it wont give people a chance. So, someone failed him. I can point to so many others who did, but I did too. I couldn’t save him. There wasn’t a way I could have saved him. I miss him so much.

I want to try something, but I’m kinda afraid

Trauma Support / by LostAzure411

February 27th, 2024

...See more Just to explain the premise of my trauma, I had an extremely close friend murder his girlfriend. He had his fair share of troubles growing up, and I tried to help him through it as well as I could. I have another post here specifically about it somewhere, but that isn’t really the point of this post. I was in the process of adding a class to my schedule at the registrar of my college today, and on my way out I saw a flyer for a “youth and family support assistant position”. My gut says this is a big brother type job, and I think it would be a way for me to both help people that really need it and get some work to put on a resume before I go into student teaching. I really feel like I could help people that need it. On the other hand, I’m a bit afraid of applying. I failed with him. I know what it means for someone to have a nonexistent or toxic support system. I’ve looked back on our friendship countless times and wished I had never known him. So, what would it mean for me if I were to put myself out to try and help people again, and fail again? Could I even recover? Do I even have the right to try and help people when my last real attempt ended in such a catastrophic failure? Maybe I’m being too arrogant, acting like some sort of fallen messiah, but I can’t decide if I should even apply for this position. I don’t even know if there’s any point to posting this here, but I’d appreciate some words of encouragement, or criticism if that’s a better fit for me.

I think I’m poison

Depression Support / by LostAzure411

January 26th, 2024

...See more Looking over my life, I don’t feel like I am good for the people I’ve loved. I feel like my family is wasted on me. I feel like I destroyed each of my friendships, and I feel like it’s my fault for not preventing my closest friend murdering his girlfriend. I can look at each of these and say that it’s not true, that I have been a positive influence in my family, my past friendships ended for a good reason, and I had no control over what he did. I can say that, but it doesn’t stop the pain. It doesn’t prevent the self-hate. I still blame myself for all of it. I don’t think I can relate to people, and that has always been the case. I think that for every painful moment in my life, I have been the cause at some level. I am the problem; the poison. I hate it. I don’t want to be rejected, or hated, or hurt anymore. I don’t want to be a person. I just wish I could exist in a vacuum, with no worries of how to talk to people without being turned on, or how to act so I don’t make people uncomfortable, or any more of this guilt echoing in my heart. I don’t want to think anymore. I want to stop causing problems, but I feel like my existence causes issues by itself.

I feel unbelievably alone

Autism Support / by LostAzure411

February 11th, 2024

...See more I was diagnosed a few months back, a bit after I turned 22. I feel like I was born wrong. Throughout all of school I tried to make friends. I read their faces and interpreted their words with all my might and I thought I could get by fine. I thought that I didn’t need to have a full understanding of the people around me and they didn’t need to fully understand me. If we were both trying, then it would still end in a decent connection, right? As time went on the people I thought cared about me would reject me at the slightest misunderstanding, or would drift off despite my best efforts, and I was gradually becoming a loner. I accepted that. These things happen, and we all have our own lives. Then my closest friend betrayed me in a way I can’t bear to go into for the millionth time, and I realized that I had never seen the person he was. Now I look at people and I see masks. I used to be able to read the mask and get an idea of what lies below. Now I see nothing because I realize how bad reading the mask wrong can go, and I’m terrified of being betrayed, or rejected, or abandoned one more time. I hate it. I don’t know if this is truly just autism, but I hate it. I just wish I were a regular person. I wish I could make real connections and they would be able to survive a little turbulence. Instead, I feel alone.

I don’t know how to move forward.

Trauma Support / by LostAzure411

December 12th, 2023

...See more I want to apologize if this isn’t the place for this. I don’t want to drop my issues in a place where they are ill fitting. I want to get support from a more public place, but I want to start with Putting down a Trigger warning: Domestic abuse, violence, and death. I met him in 2014. I was probably 14, he was probably about 12. We were in a gifted student class together. My initial impression was that he was a bit annoying and nosy. I hindsight, he probably had some undiagnosed adhd. Though I graduated free to appreciate him as one of the few people to take interests in me and my project in class. In high school I got to know him better. His dad was out of the picture, his mom was an addict, and his teachers didn’t care about him in the slightest. It may have been due to the fact that he was one of the few black people in our rural community, but I can’t say for certain. I saw that he wasn’t getting what he needed, and so I chose to take a more active roll in his life. I made sure he had enough to eat, drove him home and to work, tutored him, editing his book, and so much more. I wanted to see him grow into something great. I sat at his graduation, and he introduced me to his girlfriend at the party after; a young woman I had known since kindergarten. His breakups had been messy in the past, but they seemed good together. They moved away together out of state where he attended a technical school. A year or so later, they returned on vacation. I bought them dinner, and we caught up. Two months later, he was arrested. He would eventually be charged with second degree murder. The neighbors called when they saw an unresponsive woman on the floor of their living room. Her face was swollen beyond recognition, and she had bite marks on her body. Security camera footage showed them arguing, and him hitting her with a propane tank. When I first heard the news, I tried to search for ways he could have been innocent. What if it was self defense? What if the killer was still out there? Then I saw the mugshot. He was guilty. I knew he was guilty. He would be sentenced to 48 years for her death, and another 12 on kidnapping charges. Its two years later now. I can’t trust anyone anymore. I want to try and build a friend group, but every time there’s that question in the back of my head. “What if it happens again? You knew him, and you were wrong to trust him. You don’t know this person. Can you really trust that they’re not a monster?” Even if I get past that, her face pops into my head, and I think “It’s my fault”. I wish I could just forget it, all the good and bad memories that have been repainted in blood. Everything I did and didn’t do for him. Some days I feel like I should have never given that 12 year old a word; let him live and die on his own. On other days, I look at that little boy I thought of as a brother and wonder if I was close. Was I close to saving him? Was I close to changing his path enough. If I was a little better, would she be alive? Would he be free? I buried this for two years, and now it’s all I think about from the time I wake up to the the time I fall asleep. I’m constantly terrified of these feelings, and I want to run away from them. Try as I might, there is nowhere to go. I want to let this all go, and get on with my life; but I don’t know how.

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