Personal Narrative: Suicide

On 06-06-2018, at approximately 1818 hours, I was contacted by Cpl. F. Capitano, in reference to a suicide at 11513 Lake Ridge Road. Upon arrival I met with Cpl. G. Thomas, who advised what occurred. I then entered the residence with Deputy E. Palacios, who was the first deputy on scene, Deputy B. Shannon, who is the originating deputy and Crime Scene Tech S. Mawhinney, who responded to process the scene.

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“My ex-girlfriend was taken away by the cop and taken to the local jail. My ex-girlfriend’s Dad showed up and I rode back with him to their house. Finally my parents came and picked me up. I went home and maybe got two hours of sleep, if you even call that sleep. The next morning, I went back to my ex-girlfriend’s house and she was later released from jail that day. For the longest time, we would just sit there in silence, because, what do you say? It was time to comfort one another. I not only felt bad about the whole situation, but I knew no one was going to believe me, us. Believe that a girl purposively jumped into the moving vehicle. I later learned that the girl who died had been suicidal. Earlier that day, before the accident,

I’m not going to begin this story with absurdity, instead I am going to relive a year that went by so freaking fast that I nearly forgot half of it, but what I do remember has left me with a little knowledge and a lot of pain that will last a lifetime. This year is the year the suicides began. First, before I make any person feel a little tearful or for the tough guys only tearful in the inside and never on the outside, let’s go back to the year before; as a freshman.

Chris awoke early and had a cigarette whilst talking with his girlfriend this morning. His father later came to see him in the morning and gave him a hand to do his laundry however Chris got upset with his father and was feeling in a low mood. He came to chat to me for a while and engaged well explaining that he didn’t know why he felt the way that did. He at one point said that he felt suicidal however it was a thought and not something that he would take immediate action on. I managed to change Chris’s mood by making light humour of things and said that if he was still feeling like that to inform staff or let his father know. I explained that this would be something that he could discuss tomorrow at his review. Chris therefore apologised

By the age of seven, I became used to the smell of tequila off my father’s breathe, which then usually coincided with his absence for the next few days. It was a regular for my father to be home one day, and gone for the next two weeks. I considered it beneficial when he was gone, as the house was less chaotic and it was easier to do my homework. I didn’t want my father around; his presence was dangerous. While on a bender, my father had stolen my entire college fund that I had been saving up so he could use it as drug money, brutally beat my mother, totaled his car, and accused me of stealing his car keys. I was about eight during the time of most of these occurrences. Eventually, I had considered his addiction an aspect of my childhood.

‘Call the ambulance’ I said to myself. The red car disappeared from the view as I looked for help. As I tried unlocking the seat belt, I realized I was bleeding and my head was hurting really badly. Helplessly, I bent forward and checked Trevor’s pulse. My immobile left hand lay dead on the side as I reached for my phone, Speed dialling the number as I called the ambulance to the location.

"Okay yes, it dose take me a while to heal. I don't know why though" He finally whimpers after a few moments.

In fifth grade I found out my mom had breast cancer. I didn’t fully understand what it meant at the time, but as I got older I understood the severity of the situation my mother had to face. Eight surgeries and seven years later she is cancer free but still faces severe nerve damage and lots of doctors appointments and physical therapy. This put strains on me to take care of her and to do everything in my power to make her day easier by having one less thing to worry about: me. This was, and continues to be my driving force and motivation in school, my extra curriculars, and every day life choices.

Despite an early morning awake, I found myself tiredly exhausted by midafternoon. My sister took over the deli for servicing that day, reassuring me I needed to rest. Although I appreciated it, I felt apprehensive leaving the deli if even for a day. The pain causing my sinuses to be inflamed was plausibly the only reasoning I had to keep myself indoors and secluded. Laying my head back again my bed pillows, I rubbed my face drowsily. I had taken some medication from previous allergy related pains before, so I felt inclined to sleep but was having great difficulty in doing so.

I live in a house with a man that take cares of me because I have trouble doing normal day to day things. He has settled with me for 10 years and we have become best friends and he’s the best roommate I could have ever had in my life. Every night I go to bed and have this feeling that someone is watching me so I have trouble sleeping. He also checks on me every morning after I wake up and asks how I've been sleeping through the night. He has also bothered me a night sometimes. I never asked, but I'm afraid he will do something even more horrific.

It was dark whenever I woke up from my slumber. I was a very heavy sleeper so I knew that someone or something had woken me up. Looking around my room, I noticed a small glint of metal coming from across the room. I suspected it was just a necklace or something catching light from the full moon outside. Then, I fell back asleep without a care in the world. Suddenly I was jolted awake by the sound of a muffled voice saying "Hurry! Knock him out before he hears us!" Then I felt a large pain my arm from a needle and fell into a drug-induced sleep.

Staring at the enclosed tennis backboard of the graffitied wall, it was my third consecutive morning there and i still didn't know what to make of it. “Hello, Brenda are you there?”, said my friend Miller as he abruptly strike me back to reality, “here its your turn, take a hit. And remember this time hold it in”. I've always felt i had an inner mystical esoteric view on life, suppressed by naive realism. I wanted to answer the great philosophical questions. So i tried marijuana.

On February 10, 2015 I was admitted to West Regional Hospital for being suicidal. My friend, Sadye,  told the counselors about how I had temptations to drive off the road and hurt myself. I was then escorted to the hospital by two police officers. After I got to the hospital, I was met by a third police officer who took me up the elevator. When we finally arrived at the decided floor, a lady took me into a room to ask me many questions about suicide and what led me to it. After the interview, I had to wear clothes that looked like a purple prisoner-like outfit. I wasn't allowed to have any outside items like jewelry, cell phones, or even my own pair of socks. I stayed in the hospital for a little over a week, everyday I had to fill out paperwork

I am a second year student in the psychology masters program at Catholic University of America and I have a strong interest in suicide prevention and sexual assault crisis intervention.