"Don't be mad at me." That was all the message said.

Phil Poirier had just flopped down in bed at his parents' house in Saint John, N.B., at 4 a.m. when the Facebook messaged popped up on his phone.

It had been a long day. He drove to Saint John from Wabush, N.L., 1,200 kilometres away. When the message appeared, he wasn't sure what it meant — but he knew it wasn't good.

The message was from a friend Poirier never met. Not face to face, at least.

It seems like there's a lot of people losing people they care about, especially in the Lab West area. - Phil Poirier

He first encountered this man 12 years ago, through an Xbox video game. They played Halo online and struck up a friendship, using Facebook to keep in touch.

"I tried to just get whatever information I could out of him, to try to get an idea of what he was on," Poirier said. He asked that CBC not use his friend's name to protect his privacy.

"That's when I found out that he'd been on about 28 doses of antidepressants, Benadryl … anything else he could get a hold of."

Poirier's mind was racing. "You need to get to the hospital," he typed back.

"Maybe," was the response.

Frantic messaging

When he realized his friend wouldn't be convinced, Poirier started brainstorming. Should he call the friend? Call 911? How would he explain who he was and where his friend was?

He looked for Facebook friends nearby. Poirier's online friend lived in Virginia, so he frantically typed out messages to other people in that state.

"I don't know you and you don't know me…" he wrote. No, that wouldn't work.

"I re-wrote it a couple of times," Poirier said. But it was late. People were sleeping, not checking their Facebook messages.

So Poirier changed tactics. He wrote a public post on his friend's Facebook page, and tagged mutual friends he knew through Xbox.

"I was trying to get a hold of someone I knew who'd be able to actually call him and keep him stable."

Finally, someone called the police and Poirier's friend was rushed to hospital.

"I heard back from his roommate the next day, that he was in the hospital and they pumped his stomach," Poirier told CBC's Labrador Morning.

"He was safe and stable. There were people around him."

'I just want to keep playing Xbox with him'

Later, the friend's mother called Poirier. She wanted to say thank you, but Poirier said it wasn't necessary.

"I don't really think it's anything really special that I did or anything It's just — someone needed help," Poirier trailed off.

People need to know that they don't need to be scared to stand up and do something about it. - Phil Poirier

Then with a gentle laugh added, "maybe it's just a little bit selfish. I just want to keep playing Xbox with him."

Of course, it's more than that. Something was nagging at Poirier. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he had to find out what was behind that cryptic Facebook message.

"I've already lost a friend to suicide, so it's a pretty touchy subject for me," Poirier said.

"It seems like there's a lot of people losing people they care about, especially in the Lab West area in the last little while.

"It's just something that needs to be talked about more and people need to know that they don't need to be scared to stand up and do something about it."