Warm water crashes around me. I lie on the floor, helpless in more ways than one. I feel like I’m going to drown if I don't get dry soon.
“You need to fix this.” A voice above the water booms. “Fix this.”
I continue to tread water but cannot stand. The voice goes quiet. I am alone in the dark of the water.
“How do I fix this? How do I admit that this is what I did?” I think about my wife. “How do I tell her that I did this again?” I think about my son. “How can I explain to him that this is who I am? How will I be able to face him if I can’t fix this? I can’t face him. I can’t fix this.”
“End it.” A new voice whispers. “End it all. Don’t make him suffer too. End it all.”
The water continues to surround me.
“End it.” The voice continues to whisper. “Don’t make him suffer too.”
I lie in the water with my mind made up.
“I will.” I say out loud. “When I can stand, I will end it.” I lose consciousness….
I slowly open my eyes. The water continues to engulf me, now freezing. The voices had gone silent and all that remained was my instinct to get warm. I stumble to my feet and turn the shower off. I am still drunk from hours before. It had been a long morning of mixing vodka with wine in an attempt to get as drunk as possible at a New Year’s Day breakfast with my family, an annual tradition. I had succeeded. My cousin had to drive me home. Because I was completely covered in vomit, he walked me in the house and put me in the shower still completely clothed. I have long struggled with alcohol, finding it to be the perfect solution to battle the storm in my head. It had only recently been brought to my attention that I drink too much. The party of my early 20s needed to be over. I was going to be a dad in about 3 months. How could I explain to my son that I choose alcohol over being present in the moment for him, and how could I explain to Kat that I was, once again, too drunk to drive myself home? I wouldn’t. In the shower, I was too drunk to stand as the water washed over me, but had resolved to end my life. This was the best solution for me. My son would learn about his dad through stories told by family members. Tales of how I would do anything for a laugh. Stories about how I always stood up for myself and my beliefs. Lessons in fighting for my family, but not for myself. I could not let my son find out who his dad was. Maybe he would be better only knowing me through second hand accounts, and not the darkness inside me which was sure to manifest and evolve over time.
“As soon as I can stand, I’m going to do it.” I thought to myself.
As soon as I could stand, I did. I went to my closet, opened my dresser and found dry clothes. I looked around for something I could use that would be the least traumatizing for Kat when she came home in a few hours and found my body. “Nothing with blood.” I thought. I thought about how Robin Williams had hung himself with a belt. It seemed to be quick, painless, and clean. I looked around my closet and found my favorite black leather belt hanging on a hook near the door. I took it off the hook and held it in my hand. I fed the leather strap through the metal buckle and put it around my wrist judging how tight I would need to make it. I held it on my wrist, pulling tighter until my hand started to tingle. I stared at my hand as the color faded. “OK.” I thought. “This is how I’ll do it.” I loosened the belt, took it off my wrist, and set it on the dresser. I needed to make sure I did this right and with enough pressure to actually end my life, but I was too focused on trying to stand up straight, still feeling the effects of the alcohol I had consumed earlier in the day. “Take a nap first.” I heard myself say out loud. I left the closet and walked over to my bed. I tucked myself in and closed my eyes, knowing this would be my last normal act.
“End it all.” The voice whispered again as I faded to sleep. “End it all.”
“Honey.” I heard Kats voice, her hand on my chest shaking me awake.
I opened my eyes. There sat the liferaft to which I would cling during my storms.
“Hey.” She said with a smile. “You OK?” She asked.
I began crying. I was embarrassed to admit that I had once again gotten too drunk at a family function. “It’s OK.” She whispered. I wrapped my arms around her waist and continued crying. We sat on the bed for almost 20 minutes before I said anything.
“Larisa called me and told me what happened.” My cousin's wife could always be counted on to maintain order in our family. “Let’s go get your car.” She said.
After a short drive across town, we arrived at my cousin’s house. I turned to look at Kat, still feeling embarrassed. She kept her eyes fixed ahead with her hands on the steering wheel. I got out and closed my door and she drove away. I walked to the front door of the house and stood there for a minute and took a deep breath. I expected to find my family still inside when it opened.
“Put on a smile and be happy, ‘Oh well, shit happens!’ shoulder-shrug guy.” I thought to myself.
I took a deep breath and knocked. A few seconds later, Larisa answered the door and I stepped inside. I looked toward the living room and saw only my cousin, Adam on the couch. I began crying again. Larisa wrapped her arms around me.
“It’s OK.” She assured me. “This is hard.”
“I’m really embarrassed and I’m really sorry.” I said, whimpering. “I feel like the family fuck up.”
Adam walked over from the couch and also put an arm around me.
“You’re not the family fuck up, dude.” He said. “We’ve all gotten drunk and thrown up at a party. It’s OK.”
“I’m sorry you guys had to clean up after me.” I said.
We stood for a moment in silence.
“Do you want to sit down and stay for a while?” Larisa asked me.
“No. Kat’s mad. I should probably go.” I responded.
I knew Kat wasn’t mad, but disappointed and probably embarrassed herself. Larisa handed me my keys, we said our goodbyes, and I left. As I drove home in silence, I thought about the belt. I knew it was still sitting on the dresser, and I knew Kat would probably walk by it and think nothing of it, not knowing that just hours before, I had decided that I would use it to end my life instead of face my embarrassment head-on like a man. I, admittedly, would have strongly considered using it later that night had my whole family been sitting there when Larisa opened the door. I could probably gauge the response from everyone. My older cousin Nick and his wife Amber would have made a joke as soon as I walked in the door; humor is a heavily used defense mechanism in my family. Adam and Larisa would have laughed at the joke, but would have been deeply understanding of what I was feeling; I always felt a very strong emotional connection with them because their story was remarkably similar to my and Kat’s story. My Uncle Alan and his wife Lorrie would have completely ignored me and acted like I wasn’t there; Alan always seemed to dislike me and was not shy to let me know it. But of all the regrets I have about that day; drinking to the point of vomiting and ruining the family get together, making Adam drive me home, and considering suicide without considering the trauma this would cause to my 6 month pregnant wife whether it was clean or not, my biggest regret had to be not staying sober enough to enjoy the time with, of all people, my Uncle Alan.
Though he was always a bit passive aggressive with me and quick to dismiss me when I would join in a conversation, he was a harshly funny guy. His razor sharp, lightning fast wit was nearly unmatched by the rest of us. His passion and protective demeanor of our Native Hawaiian heritage inspired us all to feel Hawaiian, not just be Hawaiian in name. Not to mention, he could captivate an audience with his various stories from his nearly 30 year law enforcement career.
He had a stroke later that same year and passed just before Thanksgiving. This day would be the last time I saw him alive. I don’t remember the last thing he said to me. I remember hearing a voice as I laid my head down on the table where I was sitting just as the alcohol took its full effect say, “What a sad existence.” I am not completely sure it wasn’t outside of my own head, but if it was, I can venture a guess from whom the comment came. If it was him who said it, he was right.
When I arrived home, I sat in my car on the street for a while and thought back to the voice I heard in the shower.
“Adam is right.” I thought. “I need to fix this.”
I walked inside to find Kat already in bed. I walked to the closet and closed the door. I picked up the belt and held it in my hands for almost 5 minutes, just staring at it. I hung the belt back on the hook.
“Maybe another day.” I thought.
-Brendon
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