May 5 2001

[WrongPlaceRightTime]

Hello All. With the seven year anniversary of my father's suicide approaching, I thought I might take an hour or two to write out the details of that event. It's a pretty crazy story.

It's Cinco de Mayo and also Apple Blossom in the town of Winchester, Virginia- a small city in the Shenendoah Valley where my family moved to in 1992 after leaving the DC area. I am 18 years old and home from my first year of college at VCU. My family situation has hit an all time low and I want to have one last party before I have to get a job to support my mentally ill father, blind mother and epileptic 13 year old sister.

Something has happened to my dad- we know not what. He won’t talk about it- he just cries and sighs all day and all night. It is a drastic change from the man I knew just 9 months before.
In August 2000 my father drove me down to Richmond. It was a two hour drive; we had a really great bonding time together. I almost always enjoyed his company- he was funny and kind and understanding. He wasn't a nag like my mother; he let me be who I was and gently guided me to be better.

When I come home for Thanksgiving I notice my father beginning to change. He is wringing his hands and looking off into the distance with a furrowed brow and permafrown. I ask him if he is ok, but I don't get much of a response- a feigned smile and halfhearted reassurance. I give him a hug and tell him I love him, he almost bursts into tears.

I return to school and that is when the phone calls start. My mother is becoming increasingly worried; she is telling me that she is going to have to come live with me in my dorm room. My mother and I have a rocky relationship so these statements are magnified times 1,000,000. I definitely do not want her to come live with me- besides, I am a child.

I am home for winter break- my father has become worse. He is taking time off from work and he has lost a tremendous amount of weight. He doesn't sleep, he sits on the sofa and cries and sighs all day. My mother is hysterical. I escape into a cloud of pot smoke and music and my Chinese food delivery job.

It is the eve of New Years Eve and I am out on a delivery with my friend when I get a phone call from my mother. The message is: COME HOME NOW. YOUR FATHER TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF TODAY. My friend and I cry together then I go home to hear the rest of the story. Apparently my father found an empty parking lot where he parked and sat for over 14 hours on the coldest day of the year.

A few days later I am woken up very early in the morning by my mother's hysterical screaming. I go downstairs and see my parents by the door- my father is trying to leave. My mother screams at him "TELL HER TELL HER WHAT YOU JUST TOLD ME! (He is holding back tears) HE JUST TOLD ME HE IS GOING TO KILL HIMSELF!" I break down crying and my dad comes in to console me. He tells me everything is alright and that he will see me that night. I want to believe him so I say ok, and he leaves the house. He does return that evening.

I'm not sure when the trips to the ORG in DC started. He went in for ethics handlings. We were instructed to take him for walks and do locationals. He was taking vitamins and supplements for depression. He saw a scientology doctor and later my mother took him to see other unaffiliated doctors- they diagnosed him with clinical depression and prescribed Prozac, he refused it.

He lived with his parents for a few weeks. His parents lived with us for a few weeks. I was at school during most of this time. We uncategorically did not know what to do or what was going on. We really had no idea why this sudden shift we just knew it had something to do with the possibility that he had been PDH'ed to self destruct and I believe this was the first time I had ever heard that term. It was a very scary, confusing, turbulent and helpless time. I was a child. I was hysterical. I was stoned. I had no support. None of us did.


part two comming soon

[Wisened One]

Heartbreaking story.....

Awaiting part two.......

I can't imagine those experiences....

Just heartbreaking....

[WrongPlaceRightTime]

WisenedOne- Thanks for your reply. The quote you have choosen is so apt. It is essentially saying "come up to present time". That is a very powerful command. The buddhists say "be present in the breath"- we could all benifit from exercising being in present time.


Anyway

Where was I... So I am in Winchester and it's my first day back from my first year of college. It is Apple Blossom weekend which is an old city tradition going back about 80 years. The whole town shuts down and there are several parades and parties everywhere you turn. I am spending the weekend at a friend's house as she lives closer to town. We have a handle of tequila and a few ounces of schwag weed. At 11am I wake up and take a few shots of liquor. This is really unlike me; I have never been a big drinker, let alone taking shots early in the morning. They go down easy and I don't feel sick at all.

30 minutes later I am in my driveway; my friend has driven me home to get a change of clothes. The side door is open and my dad's car is in the driveway but he is nowhere to be found. Through my intoxicated eyes I look around the house and sigh, thinking "this place is a mess, tomorrow I will clean it up." I leave the house and return to Tasha's place.

We set out for the carnival midway with soda cans full of tequila. I remember being so drunk that I thought I was invincible- I steal goldfish from a carnival game right in front of the game operator's eyes and he doesn't notice. After a few hours we decide to head back to Tasha's house to smoke a blunt. I walk ahead with her little brother, who is 5. Tasha and Ryan walk behind us smoking a joint as we are walking out of a huge crowd.

Before I go any further I want to acknowledge how irresponsible and reckless we were being exposing a 5 year old to our behavior.

I hear police sirens and I turn around to see Ryan with a police officer's arm around his shoulders. Ryan is pulling his foot back, smearing a joint across the sidewalk. I am 120 feet up the street with little Nelson, holding his hand, looking back, feeling numb. I have two bags of goldfish in water tied to my belt loops- fish I had stolen and won for Nelson. The police officer takes the backpack from Ryan and I foolishly approach them to retrieve it.
"That's ok, you don't have to search that, it's my bag."
"Oh yeah, well I'm just gonna search it any way, how about that? Ma'am could you step over here, I need you to blow in this tube."

I blow a .179.

The contents of the bag are emptied onto the hood of a police car. Out come a few limes, a case of CDs, a change of underwear, birth control pills, glasses, a contact case, my keys and an ounce of marijuana. Ryan's pockets are searched. Out come several dub sacks of weed ($20 worth) and a postal scale. Things aren't looking so good.

There are 5 officers surrounding us now. These guys are your stereotypical asshole cops who want to rile you up. Not only that but they are redneck bigots- I think they are goading us so much because Tasha is black, Ryan is mixed and I am white. Everything is a blur. I don't know how the encounter has escalated to this but the cops are screaming at us and I am screaming back. Little Nelson is cornered by two officers who demand to know whose bag it is. Poor boy is terrified. Ryan and I are handcuffed and put into separate cruisers.

I finally decide I need to lighten up a bit and I ask the cop with composure to please put on my seatbelt. My arresting officer still wants to burn me so he pretends like he doesn't hear my request. I ask again and again; taunting smirks are his only reply. I loose it and snarl, "Put on my fucking seatbelt mother fucker!" The cop swings in, his face only inches from mine as he fastens my seatbelt. "You think you're hard, huh?" I glare back at him. "Say goodbye to your son." He scorns me as the door slams shut and I am momentarily alone.




Next: A Solitary Cell and Comming Home

[Wisened One]

:gulp: I'dve

[Kathy (ImOut)]

You can't leave us hanging like that. In a book with that kind of tease, I'd start the next chapter no matter how tired I was.

What's next?

[Free to shine]

[Good twin]

Originally Posted by Free to shine

That's funny FTS. I actually got up and made popcorn.

[Bea Kiddo]

We love you, WPRT... Sweetheart...

[Free to shine]

Originally Posted by Good twin

That's funny FTS. I actually got up and made popcorn.

Popcorn is comfort food!
This stuff still makes me cry.

WPRT - hugs girl!

[WrongPlaceRightTime]

A short drive takes us to the county jail. I have been there numerous times on my deliveries, now I was being delivered. I am strip searched and booked. My mug shot looks completely insane. I do not realize that I am to be locked up until it actually happens. I am taken to a private cell where I completely loose it.

I am a lunatic in there. It dawns on me that I am not going to be able to leave. I wonder when I will be able to leave. I think about my family and about how much trouble I am going to be in. I am vitriolic. I scream and cry and sing songs of freedom at the top of my lungs. Next door a man calls out to me. He tells me to "shut the fuck up" and in the same breath "I think I love you, wild child." Completely uninhibited I scream back at him some venomous curses.

A few hours later I request to take a breathalyzer test which I fail. 20 minutes later the guards are back and they say I can go. I collect my things and sign out on my own recognizance.

I am given a ride home in a cruiser. This concerns me; I do not want to arrive at my house in a police car. I ask the police woman driving why I am to have a ride and my friend is not. We pass him walking down the road in the dark. I ask if we can pick him up but the cop says she cannot. She has orders to take me directly home and she won’t tell me why. She says she doesn't know why. I cry some more. She wants to know why I am crying I tell her that I am in big trouble and that my family is really unstable right now. She listens to me. I can hear the sadness in her voice as she says uh-huh and yeah in acknowledgement.

We arrive at my house as an ambulance pulls away. The cop says, "We're home. My parents are your next door neighbors." I thank her and get out. My mother and little sister are standing on our neighbor's porch. My little sister calls out to me, "He's dead. Dad is dead"


There is a lot more to this story and I will write more tomorrow. Comming up 2 Services and "Being Handled"