"The Debt to Someone Who Saved Your Life Can Never Be Repaid in Full"

 I have saved a life maybe even two or three. Two were little kids who were drowning. Yes, I was a hero. Jumped into the river when a young boy was drowning. I jumped into a pool in Regina Travel Lodge when a little kid went to deep and couldn't swim. I went in clothes and all.  The other person I saved was a cop who was drunk and trying to arrest my friend. My friend would have killed him or would have been killed by the cop. I may have also almost taken a life or two in my time (but it doesn't count, as I think I was in the right).  And I know my life was saved as well. 

The suicide of my son in 2005 did a real number on me. I was a wreck, just like in the movies. He was my boy and he was one of the loves of my life. So it was devastating. I tried to keep working. I was an instructor in a small university in British Columbia. Every single day prior to entering the building I would cry my eyes out, scream at the god I thought I believed in. Even in a few of the classes I would break down uncontrollably. I wonder what was going on in the students mind. They were witnessing someone crash in front of their eyes. My work was suffering as I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't complete lessons, I couldn't grade work properly. It was a shame for the students. I had no will to live, let alone do daily tasks required of me to fulfill the job. I am not really capturing what went on in my head and how it affected me. Getting out of bed, brushing my teeth, washing was awful. As I think back about how I went into a mental decline, it is what I witnessed with my Boy. The addiction took his life slowly, painfully and ugly. He declined and I witnessed it. 

 It came as no shock to me as I found out my friend and boss was looking for ways to fire me. He was a control freak and was strict about all things, like dress code, and time.  This was fine but I started to be late to the office.  Lot of the other instructors resented his style of management for a post-secondary institution. It never really bothered me as I knew my friend to be control freak on all things. He once even made a comment to me about how I talk. I tend not to pronounce the "t h" sound of words like tree and three. So I just mostly went with the flow and ignored him. I almost made it to the end of the semester without losing it completely. The end came when I went into work with the single thought of stabbing my friend and boss. I went to yell at him and was ready to attack him. He talked me through the crisis and I left work and moved back to Manitoba. I think for him he couldn't relate and didn't know how to approach my breaking down. He is a nice guy, generous and thoughtful but he is also a cyborg, not emotional connecting. My boss and my friend didn't save my life. 

It was a number of people who have saved my life. My friend, a colleague at work was also my landlord. I was staying at his home when I went back to Vancouver after my Son killed himself. My Son was a beautiful boy but he struggled with addiction. In the end he couldn't beat the beast of addiction. For him he left his pain at the end of a rope while sitting in the closet at this mother's apartment. I am no stranger to suicidal thoughts. I am one of those who pulled the trigger. I was 17 years old when I took down a .22 rifle, loaded it, put it to my chest and pulled the trigger - click. I opened the chamber looked at the bullet and could see the dimple on the rim of the case. .22's are rim fire. I was going to re-load but the bedroom door opened and my Mom was there. "What are you doing?" She took the gun and put it back on the rack and told me to go to bed. So while I was struggling with the deed my son had done, I took to sitting in the closet at night. I was working up to hanging myself as well. I kept a string, a small black rope with me in the bedroom. One night I knew this is it. I can't throw myself in front of a car, I have no gun, and when I was a the apartment of my friend the idea of jumping was dismissed. This was it. My friend for some reason came to the room and it was late. I sat up and got out of the closet to see what he wanted. He just wanted to talk with me. So we talked. I am not sure how long or even what we talked about. I just know right there he had saved my life. He didn't know or maybe he did, I don't know. I hold him in my thoughts. He is a smart guy, a Romanian who was a refugee and has some conservative views (which I tolerate). He did save my life. 

My wife saved my life. Long ago she doesn't know it. Just with her kindness, her caring, her compassion and her patience. I was a no good guy. And when we went through the death of our Boy, she never gave up on my selfishness. I went through a long long period of regret, of anger, of remorse, of giving up. I know 100 percent I would be dead if not for her caring. Life meant nothing to me. Despite all the great things in my life, I didn't appreciate it. All I did was drown myself in pity, in anger, in grief. She walked me through my roughest periods of despair. Wouldn't give up on me. She continuously listened, continuously reminded of the kids, the grandkids, the family, the friends we have. I still struggle with thoughts of ending my life. Medication helps me I know. But it is her constant strength which helps me. This is a debt I can never repay. She is the one who knows my darkness. She is the one who doesn't let it overtake me completely. I hope you have someone who can be there with you, carry you if they must and be your friend. 

Someone who saves your live.