The day after I killed myself started off as any other.

The birds chirp, the sun rises, but I am not there to experience it. My roommate awakes with the warm sun on her face and starts her normal routine, not yet aware. She notices that I have not gotten up yet, but that's perfectly normal, as I tend to sleep late. She moves on with her day. My boyfriend, after getting into a fight with me the night before, texts me, but I do not respond. "She must be sleeping" he thinks, and rushes to class. Soon, they realize that this is no coincidence, something must be wrong. They find me, cold and lifeless on the double bed with elephant print sheets. They call my parents, horrified. My loved ones are devastated. My mother falls to her knees at work. Their world is crashing down.

My mom, more concerned about my mental health than me, blames herself. She knew something was off, she tells herself, you should have known. You should have reminded her take her medication, you should have helped her to make counseling appointments. My dad is angry and sad, and takes it out on my mom. Their marriage is in trouble, but for good reason...you should never have to bury your own child, but this is the reality that they now faced. My brother blames himself. He was too busy with school to check up on me. He tells himself that he should have done more, and should have made a better effort. My brother contemplates taking a leave of absence from school, because he is worried about the state of my family, and his own internal emotions. My family torments themselves with what ifs- what if we said I love you more? Would anything have changed? Would she still be here?

My boyfriend analyzes our last fight to every last detail, trying to figure out what went wrong, what he did wrong. He reads the texts between us over and over, watches the saved snapchat videos, fixed on my face, my smile, my eyes- those of which he will never see again. He floats through his day of work, school, and extra cirriculars wondering if this is a dream, a nightmare, an alternate reality. Whatever it is, he hopes to wake up from it soon. Loving someone so intensely, planning your future together, all to be taken away with one impulsive decision is a horrible burden to bear.

My old friends, ex friends, and acquaintances post long paragraphs facebook, ending it with "if you need help, don't hesitate to talk to me" with suicide hotline numbers at the bottom of the post. Where were they when I needed them? Where were they when I needed to talk? Often, people are too self-involved. They may see someone acting strange, whether it be on social media or in person, but quickly forget due to other priorities. What if they had reached out to me, would that have made any difference? Some of them beat themselves up about it, but others will forget with time.

The day after I killed myself, my parents have to worry about funeral statements and how to suspend my apartment lease and how to withdraw me from school. They have to worry about millions of things and put aside their grieving process. They feel numb in their mind and body, but these things have to get done- they must carry on with work and their responsibilities. This is not something that I would wish on my worst enemy.

The day after I killed myself, the University puts out a message regarding my passing and the campus resources for mental illness and suicide. Where were those resources when I was in need? Many people on college campuses are not fully aware of all resources available. I have talked with people at Drexel that are completely unaware that there even is a counseling center. Unfortunately, I was one of these people who didn't know how to get help.

The day after I killed myself, the pain in my family and community is unbearable. Memories and photographs are all that is left of me, and in time, these will fade and perish. This will be a weight that my family, friends, and acquaintances have to bear for the rest of their lives.

The day after I killed myself, I look at my body, cold and lifeless on the double bed with the elephant print sheets. I wish I could wake her, shake her, make her see that this is a mistake, and that she has so much to live for. I wish I could show her the pain that is rippling through the community, and especially her loved ones. I wish I could show her how much she was loved by everyone she knew. I wish I could show her a glimpse of her future life in a happy marriage with beautiful children and a job that she is passionate about, but that option was quickly and impulsively taken away with a bottle of pills. I wish I could hug her and tell her that her problems are temporary, and the only way to maintain stability is to go to counseling, take your meds and to stop bottling your feelings up. I wish I could show her how much everyone cares and loves her deeply. I'm getting more desperate. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs at her to get up but she can't hear me, for she's already gone. It's too late. I'm out of breath and I'm tired of screaming. This is permanent, and she's not getting up. She's never getting up. The sun rises, the birds chirp, but I am not there to experience it.

This is the end for me, but it doesn't have to be for you.

Life is precious. Make sure that you let your loved ones know how much you care before it's too late. Know the warning signs, know how to get someone help. Be patient and understanding, it goes a long way.

To my fellow survivors- you are strong, you are brave, and you will make it through. It may seem dark and dreary now, but the sun will rise tomorrow and being the promise of a brand new day. Know when to ask for help. This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. From a survivor to another survivor, I believe in you, and know that this pain is temporary. The love that your family, friends, and community members isn't, they love you with every fiber in their being, even if it isn't said often enough. Remember that, and above all else, get help.

Crisis Hotlines:

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

The Trevor Project (LGBT): 1-866-488-7386

Philadelphia Behavioral Health: (215) 686-4420

Trans Lifeline (LGBT): 877-565-8860

Lifeline Crisis Chat: http://chat.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/GetHelp/...

Crisis Text Line: Text "GO" to 741741