It started with a conversation about how I’m burnt out in my job, it’s monotonous and I feel like I’m in a rut. But I love my job- oh the complicated paradox. Through an intense conversation with my dear friend and confident, it became immediately apparent that I don’t feel anything really. I’m numb. I’m disconnected. She asked if I knew what part of me disconnected me from my body. I immediately knew. I remember the time, the date, the place.
I was driving on the highway, headed home to see my boyfriend. My mother had left a rather serious message, and I knew I would be attending a funeral soon- I wondered which one of my grandparents, and figured it was her father. I called and left her a message, irritated that she didn’t answer my call. Then my phone rang.
She told me to pull off the highway, but I wouldn’t listen. I was prepared for what she had to say- or so I thought.
“Your sister is dead.”
Those words knocked the wind out of me.
When I could finally speak, I asked, “Which one?”
“Laura.”
“Are you sure? Did you identify her?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Her boss identified her.”
Everything was spinning. I couldn’t get my bearings. Apparently I was desperately pleading with her, she was instructing me to get off the highway. I set my phone down and pulled off onto Pecos, then managed to steer myself to a factory-type place that did something with rocks and landscaping.
I was very calm when I picked up the phone. “What happened?”
“She committed suicide.”
I lost my breath. “How?”
“She jumped from her balcony.”
“How do you know it was suicide, people fall from balconies all the time.”
“There was a note.”
After we hung up, I called my boyfriend to tell him I couldn’t come over. We decided that he would come to my place. I didn’t want to go to my parents in their interim apartment, waiting for their house to be built and sleeping on a couch. I wanted familiar surroundings. I couldn’t deal with people close to my sister right now. I wanted someone to take care of me, and not have to take care of someone else.
Then I called work- my colleague’s voicemail. She was my back up for when I was out of the office. I started to tell her that I wouldn’t be into work the next day, my sister was dead. Then I started sobbing, barely able to choke out the words, “I don’t know when I’ll be in.” I was surprised at how logical and rational I was, considering.
I hung up the phone and I began screaming and crying uncontrollably in the parking lot of that factory. I completely fell apart. I couldn’t grasp the pain that I was feeling – it was too much. And then it happened. I floated out of my body and a numbness took hold. It was literally like watching a movie. I started the car and drove home. I called Laura and left a message telling her that she needed to call me right away, there was a misunderstanding and everyone thought she was dead.
It was January 7, 2003. I disconnected at about 4:55 pm in the parking lot of some factory off Pecos.
I would return a few months later, but everything was strange and filtered.
Now, I mostly feel “zoned out.” I used to have a near-photographic memory, but now I can’t remember shit. When there is anything out of my control I get anxious. I can manage it and it passes fairly quickly and it’s by no means persistent, but always wonder where all this anxiety over stupid shit is coming from and why I can’t seem to get a handle on my life. I don’t feel that I have depression, or anxiety, and if I have moments of those feelings, they’re fleeting. More like symptoms, really. I don’t know. Maybe I have PTSD. I guess it may be time to talk to somebody? I’m really looking forward to it.
But I want to live in the moment again. I want to experience the exotic places I’m visiting, the time spent with my friends. I’m not particularly looking forward to pain, but I am looking forward to doing more than merely surviving.
11 Comments
October 21, 2008 at 11:31 am
I feel inclined to respond immediately, even though I don’t know what to say, other than, “Dude, that sucks sooooo hard.”
So I’ll leave you with that, come up with something heartfelt and understanding and slightly evincing, and hit you up later.
October 21, 2008 at 12:15 pm
What you said pretty much summed it up quite nicely. :D
I think it’s everyone’s worst nightmare and it’s hard to know what to say.
I debated writing this, but after a few sea breezes, I decided to go for it. Get it out, figure out a way to remove the veil and get my memory back. I miss it. It’s nice to remember to pay bills and keep appointments
October 21, 2008 at 12:22 pm
My wife found a youtube video a while back that would totally cure you. I can’t find the video at the moment but I know the steps.. you ready?
1. Work out to get ‘Big’
2. Buy a hot car
3. Get chicks
So do those things, and according to the interwebs you’ll be ‘cured’
In all seriousness though, in my experience with my own trauma and disassociation, talking to someone really helps. Pain is a privilege, just don’t be greedy with it.
October 24, 2008 at 11:56 am
My god. This post really touched me. I have 3 sisters. I can´t imagine a call like that from my mother.
Thanks for writing this, Moutain Lover, it can´t be easy to put this out there.
October 25, 2008 at 5:24 pm
My father comitted suicide about 14 years ago. It gets easier.
October 26, 2008 at 9:40 pm
My husband was a widower when I met him and I have learned so much about what a person goes through when they lose someone too young. His first wife died instantly from a heart condition and even then, there were regrets and anger and disbelief and you name it. I can only imagine this is magnified when someone takes their own life because you are left with so many what ifs.
Hubs went to therapy asap and it really helped(from his standpoint). I just don’t think you can move past this level of loss without an objective person to help you process it. Given my disjointed family situation, therapy was a godsend and a good therapist doesn’t push you to talk about things before you’re ready. It’s like having a best friend but you don’t have to listen to their stuff.
From a writing/blogging standpoint, this is a great post, I know that’s not why you wrote it but this is the kind of stuff that touches people who will never comment here but got something out of it nonetheless. Oh, and thanks for the kind words, there’s a handful of you chicks out there that I wish lived close enough for coffee, I would definately forgo my sometimes hermity ways to meet over some joe.
October 28, 2008 at 5:14 pm
Hi Mtnlover. I’ve been reading your blog frequently. Just lurking. Sorry.
One of my big disconnects was 7/22/94 when I got the news that my grandpa had been murdered. Brutal. Broken. Murder. The hope I have to offer is that I got to several good things. 1-He was murdered and I wasn’t so I had to figure out how to be alive. 2-Being massively changed by an event is fine, letting it define my entire life is not.
And of course many other things. I belive in love. I feel like a complete dork for typing that, you know? But I really do because other people truly caring and me caring about what happens to me made the difference.
I’m still not so great about staying in the moment. But also think that’s part of the deal with being human.
November 1, 2008 at 12:20 am
Hi Scott! It’s been a while, good to see you’re just as funny as ever and your advice is just as sound as I remember it being.
Bluestreak- yeah, as I described, it was definitely not what I was expecting. For a while we were pretty shell shocked and paranoid, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hereinfranklin- it has gotten easier. I never thought it could ever be easier, but it is.
FF- I did get “therapy” right after. But my stupid HMO taught interns, and they found it fitting to pair me with one. They were nice and all, but I needed a real therapist. After the third intern, they were going to send me to a “real therapist” because they felt bad, but then I stopped the insurance. It is hard writing about this stuff because it happened “so long ago” a lot of people think I should have been over it within a couple months, but it stays with you. Damn those many mountain ranges in our way, I’m a slave to coffee and good company.
Mongoliangirl- thanks for breaking the lurk and commenting. I can’t even imagine- well, I guess I can to some extent, but damn. :( The death of my sister has put a lot of pressure on me to live my life to the fullest, which, at times can be overwhelming. I think that’s the biggest reason I’m working toward picking up the damn phone and making an appointment-to get over the final hump and start getting what I want and the life I choose.
November 1, 2008 at 8:29 am
God. I can totally relate to feeling like part of what I was supposed to ‘get’ out of it was “live life to the fullest”. That, however, doesn’t mean I’m somehow exempt from the right to sit around on the couch watching a movie and eating popcorn and having bad gas and not giving a shit about getting the laundry done. Seriously. Yes sister…pick up the phone. The final hump usually pretty well sucks for me. But it’s also about the crap that’s old and musty and really doesn’t pay enough rent to warrant the space it occupies in my cranium…or heart or guts or life.
January 31, 2009 at 9:04 am
I’m so sorry for your loss. Your post was beautiful, but very sad. I, too, lost my sister about a year and a half ago. It was breast cancer. And the day she died, I went to Olive Garden and had lunch with my husband. I remember thinking, “My sister died today and I’m at Olive Garden.” I couldn’t get over how well I was coping. Your post resonated with me, especially the parts about being surprised about how logical and rational you were in the face of such a terrible event and the feeling of disconnect that takes hold and persists. You are a fantastic writer. Thanks for sharing your work.
February 4, 2009 at 10:50 am
I’m sorry for your loss too. I think it’s the worst way to be able to connect with and understand someone. But you just hear the words, “My sister/brother died . . . ” and those three words cause you to instantly understand an entire phase of someone’s life.