A Difficult Month
I'm sorry I haven't posted lately. That's not actually an apology, it's really just that I'm sorry I haven't posted. This blog is my vent, and I've needed one....
To tie up the loose ends from my last post, Susan and I worked things out. And I'm avoiding the whisky sours.
And to explain why I've needed a vent, on Friday, October 26, my older brother committed suicide. Let's just say that it wasn't the best Thanksgiving this year. I hope that you all had a much better holiday than my family did.
I've mentioned my brother here before. He's kind of the black sheep in the family. He's divorced, unemployed and can't seem to keep a job, living in our sister's basement. We probably should have seen that he's clinically depressed, and tried to do something, but what could we do? We helped him search job listings, and we helped maintain visitation rights with his daughter, and we kept him off the street. And I'm still talking about him in the present tense.
Anyway, that night, he drove out to his old high school, parked behind the football field, and took 17 vicodin with a pint of vodka. We called the police on Saturday afternoon, were told that a missing person report can't be filed until the person is missing for 48 hours, and some kids found him on Sunday. The police respond a little quicker when there's a body involved.
His daughter stayed with me and Susan through the funeral, and for a few weeks after, and then went back to her mom. I went back to work on the 10th. It's crazy, how things are just normal now.
I've never understood suicide, and I never will, and I miss my brother. I just wish I'd been a little nicer to the lug when I had the chance. And my sister wishes she'd kept the medicine cabinet locked, but that's whole other story. It's not her fault.
I'll try to get back to regular blogging as soon as I can. President Bush and Sec of State Rice are well on their way to making complete jackasses out of themselves at Annapolis this week, when they start licking the boots of every Arab diplomat they can get to show up, so there should be plenty of material if I want to get political.
Or maybe I'll tell stories about my brother.
To tie up the loose ends from my last post, Susan and I worked things out. And I'm avoiding the whisky sours.
And to explain why I've needed a vent, on Friday, October 26, my older brother committed suicide. Let's just say that it wasn't the best Thanksgiving this year. I hope that you all had a much better holiday than my family did.
I've mentioned my brother here before. He's kind of the black sheep in the family. He's divorced, unemployed and can't seem to keep a job, living in our sister's basement. We probably should have seen that he's clinically depressed, and tried to do something, but what could we do? We helped him search job listings, and we helped maintain visitation rights with his daughter, and we kept him off the street. And I'm still talking about him in the present tense.
Anyway, that night, he drove out to his old high school, parked behind the football field, and took 17 vicodin with a pint of vodka. We called the police on Saturday afternoon, were told that a missing person report can't be filed until the person is missing for 48 hours, and some kids found him on Sunday. The police respond a little quicker when there's a body involved.
His daughter stayed with me and Susan through the funeral, and for a few weeks after, and then went back to her mom. I went back to work on the 10th. It's crazy, how things are just normal now.
I've never understood suicide, and I never will, and I miss my brother. I just wish I'd been a little nicer to the lug when I had the chance. And my sister wishes she'd kept the medicine cabinet locked, but that's whole other story. It's not her fault.
I'll try to get back to regular blogging as soon as I can. President Bush and Sec of State Rice are well on their way to making complete jackasses out of themselves at Annapolis this week, when they start licking the boots of every Arab diplomat they can get to show up, so there should be plenty of material if I want to get political.
Or maybe I'll tell stories about my brother.
posted by carl r at
2:35 PM
7 Comments:
Crap. I am sorry to hear about your brother. We had a suicide at Thanksgiving 7 years ago. Its just sad, very sad. Maybe writing about him would help to work through it all.
I'm so so sorry to hear about this. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now. Sounds like you've got a good support system. The funny thing about death is that life still goes on. But as long as you keep your brother in your thoughts and in your heart, he'll never truly be gone.
awwwww. Carl....wow...that sucks big time. I am so sorry to hear about your brother and I send my deepest sympathy to your and your family, esp. his daughter. How old is she, if I can ask?
oh carl i am so very sorry for your loss. i cannot even imagine how one deals with such a thing. my sister has always been the black sheep of our family. all my life she's been in some sort of trouble or another and attempted suicide a few times. i never understood. and though she's better now and has turned her life around, i still think about what it would have been like to have had her not pull through. it's so hard and it makes you feel helpless and guilty and mad and sad all at once. my thoughts are with you and your family.
My two son's step-brother (their dad's step-son) killed himself the day after his 20th b-day in 06. My boys loved that kid. They were best friends. I have been worried every day since that my oldest son, who actually turned 21 on October 26th, will do the same thing. It scares the ever loving hell out of me and no one can understand why. He is troubled boy, my oldest, and I don't know how to help him. I've heard people have to want to be helped and can only help themselves. I don't know if that is true or not but nothing has worked so far.
I am so very, terribly sorry for you and your family.
Thank you all for the kind words and sympathy. I really do appreciate it.
Sorry to hear that this happened, Carl. What more can a guy say?
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