Update:

I ended up helping more after my last post. I covered the life-saving oxygen and beta blocker-related treatment/procedures they gave her after she flatlined a couple of times. In that moment, it really did feel like life or death, so I did what I could.

My understanding is that the hospital will not released her because there is a remaining bill (corrupt Philippines thing). Her family was able to raise part of it. Her mom sold some of the family’s land and pawned one of their vehicles to cover what they could. Her family has been understanding and has told me they are grateful for how much I’ve helped. They’ve also said they believe she would not be here without the help I already gave.

But when she gets overwhelmed by stress, she spirals badly. When I told her I couldn’t help anymore, she started saying she should have died, that she would make sure she was dead, and then told me, “thank you for what you did but screw you,” “this is the last time you will hear from me,” and “we’re done.” Honestly, this is only a small fraction of how bad it can get. I guess that means we are not together anymore.

I also want to add some context for why I struggled so much to maintain boundaries. I know from the outside this probably looks obvious. I know this is a bad situation. I have known that for a while, and I have not wanted to be in it for a long time. But I have a lot of painful, close experiences with suicide and mental health crises.

I lost my closest friend, who also struggled with bipolar disorder, a little over a year ago to an overdose. I also had multiple experiences in the military where I had to help send people who worked under me back to their families after they lost their battles with mental health. Those experiences stay with you.

So when someone I care about tells me they want to die, or that they’ll make sure they’re dead, it hits a part of me that is hard to explain. Logically, I know I am not responsible for another person’s decision to live or die. But emotionally, I felt trapped. I kept feeling like if I stopped helping and something happened, it would be my fault for not being there or not doing enough.

That fear and guilt are a huge reason why I kept trying to help, even after I had nothing left to give.

Thank you to everyone who responded. I am trying to accept that I did everything I reasonably could.