I've been through a lot of death. I'm not saying this to get anyone to feel sorry for me, or anything like that, I'm just saying it because, well. It's a fact. My first funeral was when I was five years old (two weeks shy of turning six.) My Dad and I had been riding home from his work. He had been having chest pains at work, so badly that they had called the squad (he had already had one or two heart attacks before this one.) He refused to ride with them (I don't really remember why. I think it had something to do with insurance, or not wanting to pay extra for a squad? I was so young though, I might have made this up.). On the way home (or now that I look back, it's possibly he was also trying to drive himself to a hospital), he had a heart attack. Luckily he managed to pull over to the side of the road before he passed out, so we didn't get into an accident. Even more luckily, some kind stranger who drove a tow truck pulled over to help. They ended up giving my Dad CPR, and calling for help. My Dad didn't make it. I still to this day, however, count my blessings at the fact that something worse hadn't happened to me. I could have gotten out of the car, wandered off, got lost, got hit by another car. Someone not so nice could have pulled over and taken advantage of me and my situation. Maybe no one would have pulled over at all, and who knows how long it would have been before they sent someone to help. Now a days it might not be too bad, because it seems like everyone (even five year olds) carry and know how to use a cell phone. But this was 1991. I'm not even sure Zach Morris has his cell phone yet.
Death is hard. I don't think I have to say that. Even if someone's been sick a long time, and you know it's coming, it's still hard. It's hard for the people around you too, trying to figure out what the right thing to say it. I always feel like such a tool when I know someone has had a death in their life, because I never know what to say. Nothing seems good enough, and that's because nothing really IS good enough. It just hurts, and nothing you can say or do really can ease that hurt. But, you still don't want to look like a jackass who doesn't care, and not say anything at all. I try to stick with "I'm sorry that happened." Because, really, I am. I'm sorry anyone has to die. I know it's a necessary part of life, I know it's going to happen to everyone at some point, but I'm still sorry it has to happen. I know everyone experiences death differently. My Dad died when I was five. My best friends Dad (who's also my cousin, so it was my Uncle) died when she was 14 and I was 13. You'd think I'd know what to say, but I still didn't. I tried to figure out which way was better: She had more time to get to know her Dad, more memories to remember. But still, didn't that mean she had to miss him more? I had spent the majority of life by then without my Dad. Since I couldn't remember, did that mean it hurt more, or less? It took me a long time to realize it meant neither. I just hurt differently than she did. And someone who lost their Dad at the same age I was would still hurt differently. We're all different people, even going through the same exact situation, we're going to experience things differently.
The reason I'm writing this isn't because I've had a death in the family. Just that I know suicide can be a touchy subject, and I wanted to talk about it, since Michelle in the story commits suicide. For some people, when they hear about it, they become very angry. Some people very sad. Suicides are another thing I've experienced a lot of. My best friends Dad (my Uncle) killed himself. Our highschool had a suicide every year, and for some people maybe that doesn't seem like a lot, but considering we had about 100 people to a grade, it was. You knew everyone by name, so when someone killed themselves, we were all affected.
The thing about death is... It leaves you with a lot of questions. I've never really experienced someone dying slowly, besides my Grandma and Pawpaw, and I think I was too young to really know that they were dying, even though I knew about death, since they both died after my Father, to me they just... Were gone one day. Even before they died, they were gone, my Grandma was so senile she couldn't speak and my Pawpaw had been struck down by so many strokes I wondered if he even knew who we were.I would think the only benefit to knowing someone was going to die, would be that you could at least attempt to say everything you've never gotten to say to them. But, I couldn't imagine having to day by day lose a piece of someone I love. Suicide and sudden death though... Well. You just wonder things. With my father I was angry for awhile. Why didn't he take the ambulance? Would it have saved him if he did? Would he still be around? But then, as I grew older, I learned things about my father. While the few memories I have of him are mainly good ones: Building a snowman, playing Goldie Locks and the three bears, riding on his shoulder, making my Mom homemade Mother's day presents... I do have a few where he's angry. Yelling. I was my Dad's favorite, even my Mom will admit this. I don't remember him laying a hand on me, and maybe he didn't. But I do know now that he had an anger problem. Now that I look back, maybe it was best that he died. I know that sounds horrible, but his dying could have possibly saved us from years of abuse.
Suicide makes people react very differently. Some people get overwhelmingly angry, other's, overwhelmingly sad. My Uncle's death made me very sad. He was an alcoholic, and while I had once known him as a strong family man, a provider and hard worker, his alcoholism had gotten him fired from his bank job. There were a couple periods where it would be bad for my Uncle, and then he'd get back on track, only to mess up again. It was hard when he died. I was so angry, why weren't we enough? And so sad. Did he know how much I loved him? How much I needed him around? How much I appreciated him? Or did he die thinking nobody cared? Because I cared, so so much.
There were other suicides. People I didn't know so well, but still, a shocker. My sisters friends, a kid in my grade. At first I couldn't understand how someone could do that. And slowly my life started slipping away from me, and I realized just how sad you can feel, just how hopeless. I had a couple of my own suicide attempts. A few no one knew about, but one night when I was 17, there were no maybes, I wanted to die. I took a bunch of pills, and laid down to be done with it. Then I started thinking about my family, my little cousin who had just gotten through his Dad's death and was still so terrified of death himself. I still wanted to die, but I couldn't do that to everyone else.
The thing about suicide is, it's a very selfish thing. There IS no denying it. But, until you've been there, you really can't know just HOW hopeless the situation feels like. Just HOW sad a person can be. You know you're sad, you know something isn't right, but you don't know how to ask for help, you don't know how to get out of it yourself, and every task just seems like so much that really, everyone would be better off if you were gone. Again, I know that sounds horrible, and to a person who hasn't been there, again, it sounds incredibly selfish. And, again, it is. But I really maintain that if you haven't been there? You just don't know. While I'm angry at my Uncle for letting his alcoholism get the better of him, I'm not an alcoholic. I don't know the pull of alcohol, of that level of addiction. I can't judge him, because I don't know.
I try to write what I know. I don't really feel like I'm that good at just making up stuff, and a lot of times if I make it up, I forget that it happened, and later on in the story, I end up having conflicting storylines. Michelle's suicide was modeled after my sister's boyfriend's death. Gus was a good guy, but like my Dad, he had an anger problem, and like my Uncle, he had a drug problem. Gus' drug of choice wasn't really alcohol, though he did drink it, but coke, meth, ect. It's hard to say you care about someone like that, because to everyone else they're the scum of the earth. It's true that I didn't really want him around my sister. They fought (they both had some anger issues) and being around him made my sister slip back into some of her own drug habits. Underneath it all though, Gus was a good guy. And I knew he loved my sister. And I loved him like a brother. Don't get me wrong, I'm NOT trying to say that my sister should have stayed with him just because I knew underneath it all he loved her. I WAS relieved when they broke up. I still always thought though that Gus would get his act together. I thought he'd get off the drugs, and that that alone could make him the person I knew he could be. I did miss him after they broke up, and I when I heard he went into rehab, I was so relieved, thinking it was only a matter of time before my sister called and said that yes, he got his act together, and yes they were back together. I pictured her married to him, them having dark haired babies. I know I probably sound naive, and I was. I SHOULD have known better, dealing with as many alcoholics that I have, that breaking an addition is a battle, one that most succumb too. I just... I loved Gus. And when you love someone, you tend to gloss over their faults.
The actual call I got from my sister was that they had found Gus' body. He had hung himself down by the river. A stranger found his body. To this day, when I think about him, I swear I feel his loneliness. And that makes my heart hurt so badly. With my Uncle, he went to a hotel room to do it. That doesn't feel so lonely, it's like we just knew he wanted to go someplace where he knew his kids wouldn't be the ones to find him. With Gus it just felt like he had no where else to go. I just wish... I dunno. It's almost like I know he died thinking no one loved him. At least with other people, like my Uncle... I think he died knowing that we loved him so much and he wanted to save us from having to deal with his alcoholism. Like he didn't want to put us through that. I just wish I could have seen him one last time. To tell him, yeah, you're like a brother to me. You'll always be like a brother to me, despite your problems, despite not being with my sister.
My sister had a hard time with it as well. Understandably, she felt guilty. And, she was in the same boat with me. We were both expecting them to get back together.
I'm sorry. I know this post was probably a huge downer to most of you. But, a.) I felt like people should know about Gus. A very important lesson I was taught by death was that you HAVE to tell people how you feel WHEN you feel it. You may regret something you said later, telling a boy you loved him and finding out he doesn't love you back, or it may even be a little embarassing. But you WILL regret it, no ifs ands or buts about it, if you don't say anything at all. I also know how death and suicide affects different people differently. I just want you to know, this is my version, this is how I see it. You may see it differently. That's OK.
I also have to give my little spiel on suicide, that I try to tell all the kids I worked with, and my friends and such... I've been in a place where it feels so hopeless and never ending... I can't tell anyone I've been through exactly what they've been through, that would be impossible. But I have been to my own dark place. Had I actually gone through with committing suicide when I was 17, there would be so much I wouldn't have. My husband, my son... I wouldn't see my sister engaged (which, by the way, she is engaged now, just happened last week! So there's a little bit of happiness in all of this.) I wouldn't know what it's like to feel happy. It's worth it, and now that I'm here, I'd go back and do it all again, if I ended up back here, because it's just so worth it. You may not know it now, may not feel it. Hold on, because you will get there. The key to being happy, is that you've just got to decide to be happy. It sounds so easy, and in some ways it is, but in other ways, it's the hardest thing you'll ever do.
To steal a quote from another song "What do people really want? They want to be happy." And if you fight for it, you'll get it. And trust me, it is so worth that fight.
As for everyone I've lost... I'm sorry I didn't try harder. And I miss you all, every single day.
And who am I to try to judge or explain?
But I do have one burning question
Who told you life
Wasn't worth the fight?
They were wrong."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlkV-MNl0qY
6 comments:
Very touching, thank you Laura for sharing. I've never really experienced anyone committing suicide. My hubby's father committed suicide when my hubby was a child. My hubby's friends father committed suicide just a few years ago. He was very ill and didn't want to go on. I've had bouts of mild to moderate depression and thoughts of suicide would go through my head. Then the depression would lift, only way to explain it, and I would think "what the hell was I thinking" kind of weird feeling. All is dark and hopeless, then the dark lifts and light comes in and thinking becomes clear again. To anyone out there that is or will contemplate suicide, I would say hang in there the light will return.
I think it's great you did this post. It really makes us all stop and think about our own lives, and the lives of those we love. I have had my fair share of death, more than my fair share actually, but it has taught me how precious and how short life is, and that we should always takes chances, and not waste our time with the "what if's." I am lucky that it has taught me that. This post really touched me. Thank you for writing it.
A boy in one of my classes this year, someone I knew well, or thought I did... Two weeks ago, he came to the class, and told the professor and the class that he wanted us to come to his funeral. We are right next to the parking lot, so while we were trying to call 911 and keep him there, he ran out and got in his car and left. Eventually, they found his car on a bridge, over one of the rivers here. We don't know if he actually did it... and I'm so hoping he's just... gone somewhere or something.
So thank you for sharing. I've been ... I don't know, just not doing so great dealing with this over the past couple of weeks. I feel like I should have seen something, should have known what was going on. But what you said was something I needed to hear.
You've given us something to think about and have done it in your usual elegant writing style.
I attempted suicide when I was a teenager. Swallowed pills but then chickened out and threw them back up. Then I went to bed thinking, well, I tried to save myself so if I still die, it will just be fate. The fact that I survived told me I was meant to stay alive and do something with my life.
I like to think that I have.
I've had 4 friends who never saw their 16th birthdays - one died of cancer, one drowned, one fell from the roof of her house and, yes, one was a suicide. I saw how shattered their families were and still are, more than 15 years later. That's why I could never commit suicide - I could never put my parents through so much pain. There have been times in my life when I thought everybody would be better off without me, I was deeply depressed for about 3 years and all I could think of was how I'd love to die. But suicide just wasn't an option and I'm so happy that it wasn't. My life has now changed for the better, although I was convinced it wouldn't back then.
Laura you are always an inspiration. Not only with your writing but with your willingness to share your experiences and insight. You may be young but you've lived a life of ups and downs and pulled through. My cousin (who also reads your blog) and I were discussing that we both agreed that suicide was a very selfish if not THE most selfish act someone could do...however, you were right - our feelings on that were as of survivors of those who did it and not as one who felt that there was no way out. You provide a lot to think about and a lot to digest - thank you for sharing your life, your writing, and your experiences with us. I know I'm not the only one who feels grateful for that.
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