I have a friend whose home life isn’t the greatest, and her school life isn’t the best either. Every night I go to bed wondering if she is going to text me when I get to school. I never thought I would be able to worry about a friend the way I worry about her. Whenever we talk we always talk about her problems and I always try to make her feel better, and I try to help her solve them to. Whenever she is at her mom’s house her mom takes advantage of her not being in a wheelchair, her mom has a bone disease and it has gotten bad. I feel bad for her mom but I don’t give her any sympathy because she treats her daughter like a disposable camera. Sometimes when she talks to me she is talking about the fact that everyone would be happier if she was dead, but that’s not true. I would miss her, a lot.

A few weeks ago I got a text message from her, about her ex-boyfriend and how he was texting her telling her he still loved her. She told me that she didn’t know what to do. I told her that it was up to her to make the choice of going back to him or moving on. We continued this talk for a while. The next day I got a text from her in the evening and she was asking me if there was ever going to be a day that we would go out. I told her that I didn’t know right now and she flipped out on me and had a break down. She stopped texting me for about five minutes and then I got a text from the person that she stayed with that night and she said that she had too much to drink and she smoked too much. He and I had a conversation for about 20 minutes about how whenever she does this it worries us and we don’t know what to do.

When he told me he had to go, he gave me her brother’s phone number and told me to text him if she had done anything else like that. Every since that day I have been worried about her and she keeps telling me that she is fine and she promised me she wouldn’t do that ever again. But there is always that thought that what if something happens and she doesn’t know how to deal with it and either drugs or alcohol is what she turns to instead of one of her so called friends or me. I know she tells me she is fine, but I am a worrier and that’s what I do when my friends are trying to cope with something with things that make people do things that could kill themselves. One day she might go too far and then I won’t ever be able to talk to her ever again, and I don’t want that.