Suicide and Morally Crippling Your Survivors.

Posted by Jim - September 11th, 2010

Saturday, September 11, 2010.

Wow- this has been tough. I mean I can stop any conversation dead in its tracks with, “My brother in law burned his house down and blew his brains out last Wednesday, how the bleep are you?”


I spent the first couple days feeling like he was standing here, not upset, not overjoyed, I felt like he was relieved and okay with whatever he’d been through. I could have sworn the first message from him from ‘beyond’ was “well, I understand you a lot better now.” And I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

Did Somebody guide him through a life review and if he had gone into that with any bad feelings or unresolved issues with me or with anybody, had he been able to see the other person’s or persons’ limitations and whatever from a fresh perspective that convinced him that, for instance, I wasn’t a complete and useless idiot?

I also felt like I was in contact with somebody, if not my brother in law, then a higher power who was there with me to make sure I got through this.

And I don’t know exactly what all the insights and ramifications will turn out to be in the end, but I spent three or four days waking up freezing and shaking to the point where my chest muscles ached from extreme fatigue, almost to the ‘worrisome’ degree.

When I told Cathi about the freezing and the shaking, she said that was symptomatic of a panic attack.

I really don’t think I was having panic attacks. I think I was reaching for my brother in law, searching him out in the next world, and, if I wasn’t fully remembering what we might have said to each other, I felt like I was making positive contact, that either he was okay with being wherever he was or that I’d been able to convince him that he didn’t have to punish himself.

The newspaper article said he had photos of my sister and their daughter (who’d died in a fire before her 6th birthday in 1996) clutched in his hand when they found his body.

I did come away from that feeling okay about myself and him.

But then I heard that he blamed my niece (his step daughter) in the note he’d left.

And I couldn’t get her on the phone.

Email messages back and forth to my sister, Nancy, in Connecticut kept me worried.

And a birthday card from our ‘adopted’ sister Diane in Connecticut with her phone number led to a phone call that made me feel like I have decent friends and they have a decent friend in me and we’re good for each other. And if things might not exactly be ideal on this planet at the moment, at least we’ve got each other.

But I’m still worried about my niece. I’m worried that she didn’t try to call me (I’m pretty sure she has the phone number that should be a free or at least cheap call for her.) I don’t know whether this means that she’s okay or she’s really in bad shape.

Suicide leaves survivors in a rough state. I mean, even if we feel like we were totally blameless and the person who killed himself or herself was out of touch, deluded, or whatever, we still have to deal with a deep down, “-well, maybe I should’ve realized that his or her actions were a scream for help. Could I have done anything to help? Was there anything anybody could do? Was it just his time and if he hadn’t stuck a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, would he have been killed by a drunk driver? or a stray bolt of lightening?”

I can’t blame him for anything. I don’t feel compelled to climb up on any phony pulpit and deliver a silly sermon demonizing anybody. (This may be a large dark blot on the consciences of anybody who works for a bank or a mortgage company. This world’s ‘accepted’ ‘economics’ philosphies and/or practices hammered the nails into his coffin more effectively than the gun manufacturers or bullet manufacturers ever could. Oh, yeah, that was the final straw. They foreclosed and sold the property and told him to get out or they’d send the cops and drag him out. Should I hope the person who bought the place has an intensely painful psychological run of things? I’d never want to live any place where a previous owner had been forced to leave by some arbitrary human laws that give banks and greedy powerful ignoble immoral/amoral bastards domain over property that should never be considered theirs in the first place. But it’s not for me to judge. (I said with an impish, nearly demonic, grin).)

As far as I can tell, my brother in law really really wanted to be with his wife and daughter and would have found some excuse to get there ‘by hook or by crook’. And I don’t think any reasonable person could have expected me to be able to know the time and place when he decided he was really going to do it, and everybody pretty much knows I can’t teleport myself there and teleport all the guns and bullets and knives and pills into some other dimension- (Or teleport the brother in law into some warm and fuzzu, friendly, safe environment, this side of heaven, where a determined individual such as himself couldn’t get his hands on anything lethal.) But I am worried about my niece.

And I’m walking around with this sense of dread, like maybe in the process of contacting my dead brother in law I picked up a little bit of his state of mind and now need to work that off, and it won’t kill me, but it won’t be a snap, either.

And then again, this is earth and the vibrations out here are still pretty weird and messages from the Divine realms some times get twisted and distorted and I’m probably going to have several days if not weeks or feeling like all the fuses in my nervous system have been blown, and a cloud of ‘pins and needles’ is hanging around my head and neck and shoulders and I will be very vulnerable other’s negative states of mind. (but at least I won’t believe their depressions and delusions are ‘mine’.)

I feel like I need a lot of sleep. But I’ve got too much that I have to do, first. & In the last few days I haven’t been waking up shaking and freezing, but I’ve been waking up aching, almost severely.


God Bless us. We surely need it.


–Lost another one–

Posted by Jim - September 3rd, 2010

Friday, September 3, 2010. (hot and muggy in Arnprior, promise of thunder storms later)

— Thankfully, I couldn’t get into my email yesterday. (Thankfully because I probably could not have functioned at work last night if I had gotten the news.)

Roger French is no longer “among the living” in this gawd-awful environment.

—Thing is,¬† I’m hearing some stupid, nasty, judgmental comments about the way he checked out. And, while Roger wasn’t exactly a model citizen according to most idiots’ standards, he certainly was a unique and valuable (if quirky) member of the human race. He had a system of values that did not always align perfectly with my own, but everybody in southern Vermont knew that if they messed with Roger’s family, they would¬† probably live just long enough to regret that, deeply.

& He was probably worth at least ten of the sort of people who are sitting back and passing judgment here.

— Have a better life on the other side, Roger-