Who hasn't been "touched" by a suicide? We read about it all the time. We're all on suicide watch - watching out for signs and symptoms in others. But what about us?
Maybe you think now is not the time for a blog about suicide. Then again, when would be a good time?
Now's a perfect time.
In 1980 I got a job as a manager at the local ski-resort. We're talking a good sized resort. On the day they were accepting applications I like hundreds of others submitted our apps. I figured a job as life operator, grounds crew would fit in and be something different. Prior to that I'd been a maintenance guy at a college, and then I'd gone free-style, doing handi-man work.
I got the attention of the resort owner... he wanted to see me right away. He asked me to be the custodial manager... I could hire two workers. Wow. I was 26, and it was 1980... that was a great offer. I accepted.
There were some negotiations before I took the job, health insurance, etc... I hired two women, and we got to work. We made a great team. The hours were 11 - 7AM. It was a seasonal job, but I felt good about it, and what's better, I was a good manager - my two employees liked me and we worked very well together.
Christmas 1980. My employee informs me her husband is missing. A few days later he is found - he hung himself from a door knob at a motel. My employee needs some time off. I tell this to the resort owner. "Absolutely not", he says. I give her plenty already. I give her a seasons ski pass, etc...
Alrighty then...
I'm pissed!!! I try again to explain her husband is DEAD! He doesn't care.
That night i give the woman the bad news... time off declined. I also tell them I'll be throwing in my keys in the morning... that I don't believe it's fair what the owner decided, and that he also reneged on our agreed upon benefits package - I said I was sorry I had to leave, couldn't work for someone like that. I said I wouldn't blame you for quitting either - but neither one could afford to quit.
That morning I threw my keys on the owners desk and said "I quit". He said, "you can't". He really did. I told him he was an asshole! Very insensitive bastard! I said, "I can, and I do."
Soon after I moved to Boston, MA. Started a new life for myself... though "manager" wasn't an option - that bridge was burned.
So you may be thinking that's it...
Hardly.
Suicide it one of those topics we don't like to discuss. My father realized I had it in me from an early age - made me promise I wouldn't kill myself. I haven't. Many times because I promised him I wouldn't and even though now he's dead, I still feel the promise holds. Tempting though it may be at times.
There's nothing to be ashamed about or hide when it comes to suicide. There's a good chance that no matter what you share with others won't prevent you from killing yourself if you so decide. It's your life!
I'm haunted by the suicides of several friends. And friends where they tried but failed.
Community college - mid 1970's to 1979.
I used to love sitting in the college cafeteria... I'd get stuff to eat and never knew what new friends I might meet. It was during the time I was an employee.
One day i'm sitting at a table across from another person - I'm eating alone and we're making small talk. The person is a very attractive woman. And it turns out the wife of a guy i grew up with. Small talk turns more serious when she starts talking about how awkward it is in the body she's in. Being human she explains is uncomfortable. A few weeks later she kills herself. Dead.
Another time I'm in the cafeteria and this woman walks up to me and she stops, looks at me and tells me what beautiful blue eyes I have. Her name is Germaine. She has a European look about her. Short hair, leather vest, French. We become friends. During a conversation with her I ask what she is studying? "Nursing", she answers. But there's a catch. She reveals the reason she's in the nursing program is that when she kills herself she wants to make sure she does it right. Six months later she does it right - in the restroom of the General Hospital, with a 38 cal. revolver.
I have three other friends that killed themselves, and two that failed and are still alive and actually happy.
I alone seem to understand the torment these experiences have ingrained in my soul. At least that's how I feel. Alone.
It hurts still. And so much more that I could say.
Come 2011.... you can rest assured that my voice won't be a single voice. See, there's an advantage to having these experiences, and thinking about it yourself... see I think what we are witnessing as a society is a phenomena where people crack because there really isn't anywhere for them to turn, for help.
Myself... expect some serious blogging about the state of affairs in our society. In every case, suicide was not the answer. Murdering others was not the answer!
The answer is so simple...
See you in 2011.
To Be Continued...
December 26, 2010
December 25, 2010
RITE OF PASSAGE - PART FIVE - It Is Christmas
HAPPY CHRISTMAS!
I wish it were so... honest. Fact is Christmas is a difficult time for many people. Quite possibly the expectations... but it's really an individual experience, and not one I can sum up for everyone.
I will step out on a limb here and suggest this isn't your average Christmas. I will suggest, many people are coming face to face with both joy and stark reality.
I know of several people who are facing the latter. Despite all the optimistic predictions for the American Middle Class, nothing realistic has happened to improve our current situation. Many people are unemployed, many are either young and entering the work-force for the first time, many are older, like myself, with the stark reality that our future is in doubt. Most predictions don't foresee a recovery until 2020... that's way past the time-frame for people my age to find the final career to complete their end of life ambitions.
Musical Chairs - Where were you when the SHTF???
I was 7 years at my current job actively pursuing a new job... it all fell through.Meaning, I'm lucky to have the job I do have. How do i feel? Not good!!!
The BOOMERS have hit a brick wall...
Rite of Passage... things during the 1970's were pretty well established. Sure, we had Water-Gate, we had congressional hearings on the Viet Nam War and the scandal it represented. We had gas shortages, we had confusion with regards to illegal drug use, courtesy of the 1960's Hippies... We had Elvis Presley shlocking up to Pres. Nixon asking to be an undercover DEA informant... we had President Nixon, ultimately impeached, disregarding his own intelligence continuing the prohibition of cannabis... WHY! The principal of it. "Fuck the hippies..." was pretty much his attitude.
Then we had President Jimmy Carter... he was in my opinion the best President in years, ever, legalized home brewed beer and wine, and because he felt it was the inalienable right of people to use whatever plant they wished to use, legalized cannabis too. And that should have been the end of the long, disgraceful ban on cannabis, but it wasn't. He was over-ruled on the cannabis.
Then came President Reagan, and his first lady, Nancy Regan... and the "War on Drugs"... "Just Say No..."
The "NO" wasn't directed towards those drugs most dangerous to society - alcohol and tobacco... it was coined in the believe that cannabis was the gateway drug to hard drugs. This despite evidence at the time contradicting such a claim.
What started as Peace and love and acceptance of individual freedom in the 1960's and 1970's, became zero tolerance during the 1980's... became a game of I'm "politically correct, you're not".
It fostered the exact opposite of what began in the 1960's... it fostered intolerance! It enabled fanatics and a strong right wing presence in everyday affairs.
It enabled politics over science, political right over common good. It became the "New World Order", establishing the ideal of a social dichotomy. You're either right or wrong. There is no middle...
John Lennon "had to die"... and for that I am still very sad. He had to die because he represented "Truth, Justice, Liberty for All". He represented a dream... a new life where people aren't discriminated against because they are different, because they don't want to stay on the "merry-go-round" of conformity to the New World Order.
This Christmas... good tidings, but not for all humankind.
Wall-Street has their BIG bonuses back. The Auto Industry is flying high to catch-up. The average person?
SCREWED!!! To put it in perspective. Not very Christmasy, I admit. But it's the truth.
Most people I know we are struggling... and that it won't end anytime soon. That's reality. Doesn't matter that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has been repealed... that's simply politics that never should have happened to begin with...
You can call me a "Grinch"... but the fact is, for most, this was not a Happy Christmas, nor will it be for many years to come.
I thought things were bad during the 1970's... little did I realize then what BAD was then, is nothing compared to what BAD is now .
Despite that - I do wish all my friends, family and on-line friends the best of times... a Happy New Year!
I wish it were so... honest. Fact is Christmas is a difficult time for many people. Quite possibly the expectations... but it's really an individual experience, and not one I can sum up for everyone.
I will step out on a limb here and suggest this isn't your average Christmas. I will suggest, many people are coming face to face with both joy and stark reality.
I know of several people who are facing the latter. Despite all the optimistic predictions for the American Middle Class, nothing realistic has happened to improve our current situation. Many people are unemployed, many are either young and entering the work-force for the first time, many are older, like myself, with the stark reality that our future is in doubt. Most predictions don't foresee a recovery until 2020... that's way past the time-frame for people my age to find the final career to complete their end of life ambitions.
Musical Chairs - Where were you when the SHTF???
I was 7 years at my current job actively pursuing a new job... it all fell through.Meaning, I'm lucky to have the job I do have. How do i feel? Not good!!!
The BOOMERS have hit a brick wall...
Rite of Passage... things during the 1970's were pretty well established. Sure, we had Water-Gate, we had congressional hearings on the Viet Nam War and the scandal it represented. We had gas shortages, we had confusion with regards to illegal drug use, courtesy of the 1960's Hippies... We had Elvis Presley shlocking up to Pres. Nixon asking to be an undercover DEA informant... we had President Nixon, ultimately impeached, disregarding his own intelligence continuing the prohibition of cannabis... WHY! The principal of it. "Fuck the hippies..." was pretty much his attitude.
Then we had President Jimmy Carter... he was in my opinion the best President in years, ever, legalized home brewed beer and wine, and because he felt it was the inalienable right of people to use whatever plant they wished to use, legalized cannabis too. And that should have been the end of the long, disgraceful ban on cannabis, but it wasn't. He was over-ruled on the cannabis.
Then came President Reagan, and his first lady, Nancy Regan... and the "War on Drugs"... "Just Say No..."
The "NO" wasn't directed towards those drugs most dangerous to society - alcohol and tobacco... it was coined in the believe that cannabis was the gateway drug to hard drugs. This despite evidence at the time contradicting such a claim.
What started as Peace and love and acceptance of individual freedom in the 1960's and 1970's, became zero tolerance during the 1980's... became a game of I'm "politically correct, you're not".
It fostered the exact opposite of what began in the 1960's... it fostered intolerance! It enabled fanatics and a strong right wing presence in everyday affairs.
It enabled politics over science, political right over common good. It became the "New World Order", establishing the ideal of a social dichotomy. You're either right or wrong. There is no middle...
John Lennon "had to die"... and for that I am still very sad. He had to die because he represented "Truth, Justice, Liberty for All". He represented a dream... a new life where people aren't discriminated against because they are different, because they don't want to stay on the "merry-go-round" of conformity to the New World Order.
This Christmas... good tidings, but not for all humankind.
Wall-Street has their BIG bonuses back. The Auto Industry is flying high to catch-up. The average person?
SCREWED!!! To put it in perspective. Not very Christmasy, I admit. But it's the truth.
Most people I know we are struggling... and that it won't end anytime soon. That's reality. Doesn't matter that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has been repealed... that's simply politics that never should have happened to begin with...
You can call me a "Grinch"... but the fact is, for most, this was not a Happy Christmas, nor will it be for many years to come.
I thought things were bad during the 1970's... little did I realize then what BAD was then, is nothing compared to what BAD is now .
Despite that - I do wish all my friends, family and on-line friends the best of times... a Happy New Year!
December 22, 2010
RITE OF PASSAGE - PART FOUR - SHOCKING REVELATIONS
My "Rite of Passage". No ceremony. At age 19 I packed up was remained mine and on a warm rainy night I said good-bye to my parents and moved into my own apartment, and on what I thought was a new road, my road in life. I couldn't have been more mistaken.The "excitement" was just beginning. The adventure, discoveries, knowledge I was about to experience were far beyond anything I could have dreamed or imagined.It was the mid-1970's... the hippies were gone, and no name ever was invented to describe their benefactors - Me and My Generation.
We were different, and as it turned out - hippies didn't just disappear into a legend born of the 60's, they evolved. After all, "WE", grew up and became aware during our teenage years of the hippie movement. Free love, equality, peace, self-awareness, freedom, and oddly enough, patriotism, as in we lived through the Viet Nam war... seeing the tragedy, hearing the shouts of those opposed. WE expected to join the war as it was the kind of war that seemed without end. We were all affected, either through personal tragedy or fear.
Yet, WE continued to believe in the principles that created our country, and although we mis-trusted politicians, we believed that truth would be the victor, and it almost was, when Jimmy Carter was elected President. But our hopes, our work at equality, our dreams were destroyed by the 1980's... the introduction of disco - of the real "ME" generation.
WE were second generation hippies, for all practical purposes. We continued to carry the torch. We felt we learned a lot from generation one. What we hadn't learned, or didn't see coming was the tenacity of the moral majority to see to it that change did not happen. Ah, the moral majority, a myth perhaps. "They'd" prefer to be called the status quo, the "way it is". That if you don't conform, or you don't accept the "rules of engagement in conservative society", you are not one with society.
Many of us held out as long as we could... pushing for truth, justice and liberty for all". We couldn't take credit for ending the Viet Nam War, that was generation one's accomplishment. But we could take free love, the establishment, inner exploration of who we were, and other controversial subjects like nuclear power and the rights of women and minorities to new levels.
And where was I in the midst of all this? Ironically, this shy, conservative, lonely kid who'd been either the underdog or the victim of bullies for years found himself in the forefront of the WE generation.
Based on a book I'd received at age 8, "R is for Rocket" by Ray Bradbury, and many other books after that, I realized after moving out on my own that what i really wanted to do was "get inside". One and 1/2 years of college was not working out... and I knew it. It was an extension of HS and I hated HS. I quit college and decided that what I wanted was to work on "the inside", in a support capacity, at the heart of the educational community. And how could I accomplish that? By getting a job as a custodian at the college. I vowed to apply, and visit the college everyday if need be to get the job. But I didn't have to. I got the job within the month of moving out. Not only did I get the job, but the job was set at the Fine Arts Center. 3PM to 11PM M-F.
If there was a chance of buying into the idea that there is a God, it would have been then that the fact would have been obvious to me. The job was a dream come true, which for many they might find that difficult to comprehend as I cleaned toilets, mopped floors, and essentially was responsible for washing the old building top down.
It was a humble job, with good pay and excellent benefits. I thought my family would be proud of me. I at least thought they would respect the fact that I was working, and not just working, but a full-time employee of a community college.
No such luck!!! Almost immediately my mother made it clear that I was a disgrace to the family, that I going nowhere, that I was someone no one could like.
Amazingly, I took it in stride... sure, it hurt, bad, but I wasn't living home anymore. It was my life. And it's what I wanted.
In the next post I will describe why... but I'll conclude now with the following:
What happened, what my life became, what I aspired towards:
IT wasn't All About Sex!
IT wasn't about any one thing, nor was "my motivation" a deal with the Devil, as some have suggested.
IT wasn't about "being a disgrace to my mother"!
IT wasn't about a "lack of motivation".
IT wasn't about "Drugs".
IT wasn't about "Rebellion".
IT was about being free and living my life and becoming someone. IT was about letting go of the past and moving on. IT was to find happiness and my true love. IT was about finding and embracing me. IT was about helping others!
To be continued...
Happy Christmas!!!
We were different, and as it turned out - hippies didn't just disappear into a legend born of the 60's, they evolved. After all, "WE", grew up and became aware during our teenage years of the hippie movement. Free love, equality, peace, self-awareness, freedom, and oddly enough, patriotism, as in we lived through the Viet Nam war... seeing the tragedy, hearing the shouts of those opposed. WE expected to join the war as it was the kind of war that seemed without end. We were all affected, either through personal tragedy or fear.
Yet, WE continued to believe in the principles that created our country, and although we mis-trusted politicians, we believed that truth would be the victor, and it almost was, when Jimmy Carter was elected President. But our hopes, our work at equality, our dreams were destroyed by the 1980's... the introduction of disco - of the real "ME" generation.
WE were second generation hippies, for all practical purposes. We continued to carry the torch. We felt we learned a lot from generation one. What we hadn't learned, or didn't see coming was the tenacity of the moral majority to see to it that change did not happen. Ah, the moral majority, a myth perhaps. "They'd" prefer to be called the status quo, the "way it is". That if you don't conform, or you don't accept the "rules of engagement in conservative society", you are not one with society.
Many of us held out as long as we could... pushing for truth, justice and liberty for all". We couldn't take credit for ending the Viet Nam War, that was generation one's accomplishment. But we could take free love, the establishment, inner exploration of who we were, and other controversial subjects like nuclear power and the rights of women and minorities to new levels.
And where was I in the midst of all this? Ironically, this shy, conservative, lonely kid who'd been either the underdog or the victim of bullies for years found himself in the forefront of the WE generation.
Based on a book I'd received at age 8, "R is for Rocket" by Ray Bradbury, and many other books after that, I realized after moving out on my own that what i really wanted to do was "get inside". One and 1/2 years of college was not working out... and I knew it. It was an extension of HS and I hated HS. I quit college and decided that what I wanted was to work on "the inside", in a support capacity, at the heart of the educational community. And how could I accomplish that? By getting a job as a custodian at the college. I vowed to apply, and visit the college everyday if need be to get the job. But I didn't have to. I got the job within the month of moving out. Not only did I get the job, but the job was set at the Fine Arts Center. 3PM to 11PM M-F.
If there was a chance of buying into the idea that there is a God, it would have been then that the fact would have been obvious to me. The job was a dream come true, which for many they might find that difficult to comprehend as I cleaned toilets, mopped floors, and essentially was responsible for washing the old building top down.
It was a humble job, with good pay and excellent benefits. I thought my family would be proud of me. I at least thought they would respect the fact that I was working, and not just working, but a full-time employee of a community college.
No such luck!!! Almost immediately my mother made it clear that I was a disgrace to the family, that I going nowhere, that I was someone no one could like.
Amazingly, I took it in stride... sure, it hurt, bad, but I wasn't living home anymore. It was my life. And it's what I wanted.
In the next post I will describe why... but I'll conclude now with the following:
What happened, what my life became, what I aspired towards:
IT wasn't All About Sex!
IT wasn't about any one thing, nor was "my motivation" a deal with the Devil, as some have suggested.
IT wasn't about "being a disgrace to my mother"!
IT wasn't about a "lack of motivation".
IT wasn't about "Drugs".
IT wasn't about "Rebellion".
IT was about being free and living my life and becoming someone. IT was about letting go of the past and moving on. IT was to find happiness and my true love. IT was about finding and embracing me. IT was about helping others!
To be continued...
Happy Christmas!!!
December 19, 2010
RITE OF PASSAGE - Part Three - NO CEREMONY
SEX!!!
Most of what I remember revolved around sex. It came on for me around age 15... but I didn't begin to "feel" it until around 16. By 18 I was entering my fevered stage... what is commonly called blue balls. It's no joke. It's real.
Meantime, I'm at that age where I've lived with my parents in what we call "home" for 18 years. I graduated High School. In 1972 I could legally drink alcohol and that's what I did. I had a job, was to start college in the fall, even had a girlfriend. And a car. Ideas, hidden dreams, germinating mind-plants sown by thousands of books, and running free as a child exploring everything and everywhere.
I'd survived! I was an adult. Now what???
At age 18 I can honestly say there was absolutely nothing concrete within my grasp - there were only memories of having done most of what was expected of me. I didn't question the "Grand Scheme" of things. I would go to college, get a professional job, get married, buy a house, have kids, be successful. Simple.
So why did I feel nothing?
The reality was I didn't fit... I had no future; I was at a nexus, the past an image of learning, struggling, being bullied. I hadn't even gone to graduation. The whole idea of the event made me anxious... I felt little connection to anyone in my graduating class, and the rehearsal was something from a horror show, the black guy on stage describing how marijuana led him to heroin, and in a stand-off with police he'd swallowed a dozen hypodermic needles used to inject the drug. Then they had Elmo (real name), our school custodian come on-stage, I think simply to thank him for his years of work, and my classmates booed him off the stage - a freakin' janitor, afterall.
Boo, hiss, asshole...
Too much to take... it seemed wrong, the whole show.
I did my college, 1 and 1/2 years of it... worked my job, did what I could to party on the weekends. But it was a no go...
College didn't inspire me. My girlfriend, when I saw her it was at her parents house, always on her couch, fully clothed, making out with closed lips, able to feel her breasts beneath her multiple sweaters... And that was it.Conditions at home worsened as my mother tried harder to impose rules and regulations. Despite their rule that if it was legal I could do it, I had to hide my beer in my room. I liked one beer after work nights. Legal to buy it, had to sneak it in the house, shut myself in my room at night to drink it.
Around age 19 my friends and I, 4 of us, went camping in a state park... we all shared renting a cabin. It was a popular park, lots of people camping. The idea for my friend Bill, and I was to lose our virginity. My other two friends already had. They found it easy to pick-up women in the park. Bill and I not so easy. And it had looked liked we'd failed once again as we walked back to our cabin around 9PM.
A small dog suddenly ran up the into the road, followed by her owner, a reasonably attractive women wearing a halter top. Another woman followed. My friend and i started talking to them... to the one in the halter top I could only think to ask, "I have Oreo cookies at the cabin, would you like some?" She smiled and said "yes"... my friend went off with the other woman. I took my friend to our cabin... remember the strong scent of whiskey on her breath, how her full breast fell out from under the halter top as she laid in my cot. And afterwards... she walked home on her own, because although I'd worn a condom, HS had filled me with gross fears of VD and I was outside washing myself in lots of cold water and soap.
Afterwards I returned home to the same old, to my girlfriend who laid under me on her couch like a cold, closed clam... and in my mind the seeds of discontent were growing...
To be continued...
Most of what I remember revolved around sex. It came on for me around age 15... but I didn't begin to "feel" it until around 16. By 18 I was entering my fevered stage... what is commonly called blue balls. It's no joke. It's real.
Meantime, I'm at that age where I've lived with my parents in what we call "home" for 18 years. I graduated High School. In 1972 I could legally drink alcohol and that's what I did. I had a job, was to start college in the fall, even had a girlfriend. And a car. Ideas, hidden dreams, germinating mind-plants sown by thousands of books, and running free as a child exploring everything and everywhere.
I'd survived! I was an adult. Now what???
At age 18 I can honestly say there was absolutely nothing concrete within my grasp - there were only memories of having done most of what was expected of me. I didn't question the "Grand Scheme" of things. I would go to college, get a professional job, get married, buy a house, have kids, be successful. Simple.
So why did I feel nothing?
The reality was I didn't fit... I had no future; I was at a nexus, the past an image of learning, struggling, being bullied. I hadn't even gone to graduation. The whole idea of the event made me anxious... I felt little connection to anyone in my graduating class, and the rehearsal was something from a horror show, the black guy on stage describing how marijuana led him to heroin, and in a stand-off with police he'd swallowed a dozen hypodermic needles used to inject the drug. Then they had Elmo (real name), our school custodian come on-stage, I think simply to thank him for his years of work, and my classmates booed him off the stage - a freakin' janitor, afterall.
Boo, hiss, asshole...
Too much to take... it seemed wrong, the whole show.
I did my college, 1 and 1/2 years of it... worked my job, did what I could to party on the weekends. But it was a no go...
College didn't inspire me. My girlfriend, when I saw her it was at her parents house, always on her couch, fully clothed, making out with closed lips, able to feel her breasts beneath her multiple sweaters... And that was it.Conditions at home worsened as my mother tried harder to impose rules and regulations. Despite their rule that if it was legal I could do it, I had to hide my beer in my room. I liked one beer after work nights. Legal to buy it, had to sneak it in the house, shut myself in my room at night to drink it.
Around age 19 my friends and I, 4 of us, went camping in a state park... we all shared renting a cabin. It was a popular park, lots of people camping. The idea for my friend Bill, and I was to lose our virginity. My other two friends already had. They found it easy to pick-up women in the park. Bill and I not so easy. And it had looked liked we'd failed once again as we walked back to our cabin around 9PM.
A small dog suddenly ran up the into the road, followed by her owner, a reasonably attractive women wearing a halter top. Another woman followed. My friend and i started talking to them... to the one in the halter top I could only think to ask, "I have Oreo cookies at the cabin, would you like some?" She smiled and said "yes"... my friend went off with the other woman. I took my friend to our cabin... remember the strong scent of whiskey on her breath, how her full breast fell out from under the halter top as she laid in my cot. And afterwards... she walked home on her own, because although I'd worn a condom, HS had filled me with gross fears of VD and I was outside washing myself in lots of cold water and soap.
Afterwards I returned home to the same old, to my girlfriend who laid under me on her couch like a cold, closed clam... and in my mind the seeds of discontent were growing...
To be continued...
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