Monday, August 24, 2009

Surviving In A Messed Up Manner

I killed my Boy! August 25, 2005 is the day we found my Boy in his mom's closet. He was there for a least two days. But how he got there is how I know that I am responsible for my Boy leaving this world. I can say it now, but I couldn't say it before, my Son hanged himself in his Mom's closet, he took his own life, committed suicide. Why did he do it? I think I know. He made a decision. He saw that there was no one left to help him. The people who are suppose to guide him, nurture him, protect him were not there. Me! I was not there for him. The 23rd is actually the day that he left this world. He was 20 years old and he was my Boy. My Boy! I can still remember how it was, the smell of death, the cops telling us to be ready for the sight. I remember rubbing his head, not really understanding how he could be gone.

I knew my Son was struggling. He was getting in trouble with the cops and getting in more trouble and not seeing any future. He was hooked on the Devil, crack. If anyone tells you it is not the most evil creature around, don't listen. It takes your soul, sucks your spirit until you feel empty inside. I tell myself I just needed a break, he could stay with his Mom until I could get a rest. But I know that's not true. My Boy and I lived together in BC. He was hurting. I told Him, "I'm giving you gold here my Boy", when we used to talk. This was in regards to our talks and my so called words of wisdom. I remember we talked about everything. About how if things were like the movies some words would just somehow make things all better. It's not how it works. I know he was missing his Granny, she passed away that March. He loved his Granny and told her he was going to follow her. My Boy wasn't a bad guy, he was a good guy trying to be bad and making bad decisions.

I know lots of people in our Reserve that them too, their Boy left them in the same way. I know one guy who is finally getting to seem normal. People can be cruel but I know why it's that way. They call this guy "hang em high Joe". Joe has tried to take himself out the same way his boy went, by hanging. So people know that he copes or almost copes by trying to hang himself when he gets loaded (drinking). My cousin her, she goes around helping people in other Reserves. Her Boy, her Grandson, left in June the same year as my boy, he was 17.

Everyone knows what grief is. We have all lost someone or had someone taken away from us. So we can all feel for what someone is going through. But a loss by choice is something that just can't be comprehended. It is the most violent thing to happen to me in my life. The child you are suppose to protect, to bring up to be better than you were, has chosen to leave. That means he saw no hope. No help. No one he could turn to in his greatest time of need. Do you know what that means? Your love was not enough to keep him here. He was all alone. He had to have felt so utterly alone. It was abandonment.

I have heard them all, all the good wishes, the cliches. "He's in a better place, you've tired your best, He's not suffering anymore, He's with your Mom now, time will heal, it's not your fault" and all the rest of the good stuff. It is well meant wishes, but it doesn't keep.

I really wish people saw and knew my Boy like I know him. He was a sweet beautiful Boy. He was my Boy. I still see him as that, a beautiful small Boy. I miss him and ache for him. It is selfish of me to hold on to Him. People say he will not fulfill his journey and I know. I keep him alive by talking about him. I see the looks of people. The uncomfortable silence, the not knowing how to react. I don't care anymore. There was never the feeling of the stigma of suicide that people talk about. I just couldn't say the word. I use softer labels, like he left, he passed, he's gone. But not the S word.

So were do you go from here. When you believe that God had not listened when you were praying for him to get off crack. When my Boy cried to me "I can't do it Dad!" I said "sure you can, you will do it. Just have to be kind to yourself". What the fuck did I know. Now where to go from here?


  1. My heart aches for you (and your son) as I read this. I have four children and went through some very tough times with them and this could have so easily been me writing this post. I thank God it is not. I don't know that I could have coped with it. I have no words of encouragement... only that I do feel for you and understand the grief and blame you must feel. You are a parent. We hold ourselves responsible for our kids. That is natural. I hope with all my heart that in time your pain will subside.

  2. Thank you. I always talk about my Boy and use writing as a way to work with his being gone.

  3. I miss my boy so much. The hurt never leaves.