On Suicide Part 2

Trigger Warning:

This story is about me, it's about you, it's about your best friend from high school that you didn't know was depressed until it was too late. This story is about a guy named Josh who struggles with suicide, self acceptance, lonliness, and rejection. It is meant to pinpoint how our society wrongfully handles the subject of suicide, and a lot of the scenes come from real life experiences of people who have conquered their struggle with depression, and want to help others do the same. This is not an easy read and it's not meant to be, so if you find yourself struggling please reach out to someone, and stop reading if you find this triggering.

The National Suicide Hotline is 1-800-273-8255, please don't hesitate to find help if you need it.

It was nearly 7:00 that evening when Josh arrived back at his apartment, the sun had long set beyond the mountains and the sky was dark and cold. He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

His apartment was neat at least. He lived rather sparsely anyway, but had tidied up before… he let the thought trail off and walked into the kitchen, where he leaned against a wall and debated calling someone. With a start he patted his pockets looking for his cellphone. In a panic now, he grabbed the white bag the hospital had given him with Patient Belongings written in blue along one side. He dumped it out and sighed in relief when his cellphone clattered to the floor. He thumbed it open and sighed, the familiar weight of aloneness settling on his shoulders. No messages. He had taken Thursday off from work and had only been in the hospital an additional day. Since his weekend usually ran Friday and Sunday, he knew he wouldn’t have been missed until tomorrow, Monday at the latest if they could find someone to cover his shift at the restaurant.

He sighed and the events of the last few days washed over him like cold, dark water. He picked his phone back up and went into his messages, looking for someone he could talk to. His girlfriend had broken up with him almost a month prior; apparently feeling that she could do better with one of the chiseled models she had met on tinder. His best friend was going through his own stuff and Josh didn’t feel comfortable intruding. None of Josh’s siblings would understand, and it had been years since he had even considered discussing anything deeply emotional with his parents. He closed his phone and felt warmth flooding his eyes; it wasn’t quite tears but a strange empty feeling that made him wish for the release of tears.

He leaned against a wall, feeling shame and pain wash over him like tidal waves, threatening to drown him. He reached for his phone once more but stopped, what do I even say? He grimaced at the thought; he knew he wasn’t prepared to discuss what had happened with anyone close to him. It would only scare them at best; at worst they would be furious.

Josh looked over at the cutlery drawer thoughtfully. That would be effective. And no hero cops to rush in at the last minute either. It was tempting. He felt a small pang of guilt remembering that he had practically lied to the mental health person when he said he had no intentions of killing himself.

The silence in his apartment grew to a deafening level and he walked to the knife drawer, hand settling on it with an anxious energy. A crash echoed into the room from his neighbor’s apartment upstairs, followed by someone’s muffled laughter. He jumped as though he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and yanked his hand off the drawer quickly.

He moved away from it, but found his eyes still drawn to it with a forbidden magnetism. Why stall? You can just get all this over with now. Just open the drawer and be done with it. One quick motion up, that’s all it takes. He shook his head to clear it of the thought and pulled up Google on his phone, looking for the number to the National Crisis Prevention line.

But the words continued to echo in his head and he felt desperation growing as the words grew louder and louder, drumming into his ears and threatening to spill out into reality. End it, just end it Josh. He took a deep breath and pressed the phone to his ear. Is this really what I’ve come to? This is my last ditch effort? His face grew warm with shame and he considered hanging up. He began to lower the phone but spotted the knife drawer once more. He knew that if he hung up before speaking to someone he would do something irreversible. Do I really want to die? Do I really? This voice was small and quiet amidst the din going on in his mind. He wasn’t sure he had an answer for it either. The line rang once, twice, finally at the fifth ring a recorded voice answered.

“Hello this is the National Crisis Prevention hotline. If you or another person is in immediate danger please hang up and dial 911, or your regions emergency services number. If you need medical attention please hang up and dial 911. If you would like to speak with one of our Crisis Prevention operators press 2 now, or stay on the line.”

Josh dropped his head to his bent knees and pressed 2. I don’t want to kill myself. I don’t, I don’t. He almost felt like laughing at that. He did too want to kill himself. The line rang twice before a pleasant sounding man answered.

“Hi, my name is Phillip. What brings you here today?”

Josh let out a choked sigh and tried to keep his voice level.

“I just really need someone to talk to. Some support o-or something. I don’t know.”

The voice responded gently, “Alright well you’ve come to the right place for that! Why don’t you start by telling me abou-”

A brief dial tone sounded and Josh jerked his head up to look at the phone. He had been cut off. The irony of the moment hit him so strongly that he began to laugh. A grating, strangled, sobbing laugh. He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the kitchen floor, clutching his phone in one hand like a lifeline, but finally Josh struggled to his feet and began to move towards his bathroom. He turned on the water and waited a moment as it heated up, running his hands through his hair and looking at his dark, burdened eyes in the mirror.

A sudden thought shot though him and he groaned. Will my insurance even cover that ridiculous trip? He fell back against the door behind him and closed his eyes, breathes coming slowly and irregularly. He shook his head; that was a worry for tomorrow. He climbed into the shower and stood there for several minutes, letting the hot water fall over him in gentle waves. He tilted his face up and breathed through his nose for a moment as the water cascaded down the sides of his face.

One thought repeated like the chorus in a song, running through his head and threatening to drive him crazy. What do I do now? Can I really keep doing this? With a hot sigh Josh slammed his hand against the water faucet in a sudden burst of anger and grief, turning it off. He jerked the shower curtain back and stepped out, plunging his face into a towel hanging next to the mirror.

He looked up at the mirror again and glared at his reflection, wishing it were another person instead of just an image of his own haggard face. With a weary, disgusted sigh he started to turn off the light, before turning back around to brush his teeth. I guess if I’m stuck here I may as well take care of myself. He finished brushing, dried off, and shimmied into a pair of pajama pants, before dropping into his bed. He sighed again and rolled over to look at his phone, considering calling the crisis line again, but decided against it. He could only take so much rejection, and if he got cut off again he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that well.

He opened Netflix instead, and scrolled through looking for something to take his mind off everything. He briefly considered watching something new, then settled for re-watching Friends for the second time that day. As the canned laughter and scripted humor floated out of his phone, Josh curled on his side and stared blankly at the screen. Is it worth it? Can I really keep doing this? What do I do now? The old familiar song played through his head, threatening to drown him in anxiety and hopelessness.

Finally, Josh fell asleep to the sounds of scripted camaraderie and fake joy. In the morning, Josh woke with a heavy pit resting in his stomach. Do I tell my family? My friends? How will they react? The thoughts chased after him, a chorus of anxieties underscored by a constant drumbeat of 'you could always just kill yourself, and be done with it'.

Josh did his best to shake off these thoughts, as he got ready for work. He worked at an upscale martini bar and restaurant in the city called Drops named for some fruity beverage that college girls’ thought was fancy and older women found to be “delightfully risqué”.

Personally Josh thought it tasted like someone had spilled Listerine into a glass of fruit juice, then topped it off with a few teaspoons of sugar. But as the manager of the bar he knew he had to serve the best selling options, no matter what he thought they tasted like.

His uniform was simple, black slacks, a white button down, and a nametag that he kept pinned on the right side just over his pocket. At 2:00 in the afternoon Josh locked the door to his apartment, trapping dust motes and empty feelings inside, and left for work.

River Rock was a small town, just large enough for him to need a car to get to work, but small enough that word about anything interesting was bound to spread quickly.

Josh arrived at Drops at 2:15, sat in his car until the clock hit 2:23, and walked inside. The daytime manager, an upbeat woman in her mid-thirties, who always wore her hair in a tight bouncing ponytail, greeted him as he walked through the door. Josh liked her for the most part, aside from the fact that she was always saying overly cheery things like “Sometimes the easiest way to solve a problem is to stop participating in a problem!” or “Great things never come from comfort zones!” Josh knew she meant well, but he always felt like she was reading off a Pinterest page whenever she gave her team those painful daily pep-talks.

Today she greeted him with a cheery smile and, “Are you ready to be awesome today, Super-star?”

Josh gave her a pained smile, and nodded. “Hey Kathy, how was everything yesterday? Thanks for getting the bar covered by the way.”

Kathy grinned and bounced along beside him as he walked into the employee’s office, dropped off his jacket, and clocked in.

“Oh yesterday was the best day since today!” She giggled brightly, as Josh held back an eye-roll.

“That’s good, Kathy. I’d better go make sure everything is in order before the bar opens at three.”

Kathy gave him cheery thumbs up, and started to bounce back out the door, before turning around with an uncharacteristically doleful expression on her face.

“Ohhh did you hear about that terrible thing that happened yesterday?”

Josh froze, a knife of cold fear twisting into his gut, as he bent halfway over to pick up a box of supplies.

“I’m not sure I kind of disconnected the last few days. What happened?”

Kathy flipped her mouth downward in a pouty expression that would have been charmless on a three year old, and was downright grating on an adult.

“Apparently some poor guy tried to throw himself off a bridge. I was at work when it happened, but can you imagine?”

Josh looked down at the supply box in his hands. “I can imagine.”

It came out as a whisper, barely floating out of his lips like a dying dragonfly. Kathy cupped one hand around her ear and leaned towards Josh in an exaggerated motion.

“I can’t understand you when you’re Mr. Mumbles!”

Josh straightened; box clutched tightly in front of him and gave Kathy the blankest look he could manage.

“I said that’s terrible. He must be going through a lot to try something like that.”

Kathy shook her head. “Yeah, maybe. But his poor family! I can’t even imagine if someone I cared about tried that. I think it would kill me.”

Josh stared at her, his face a chalky mask of calm. “For sure. I really have to get out there Kathy.”

She either didn’t hear him or was just ignoring him at this point. “And that’s the bridge I normally take home from work. Like if I had gotten off early, or hadn’t been working, or had been out or something I could have seen it.”

She gave him a baleful look that he assumed was supposed to make him commiserate with her, but her words had only served to light a cold fire in his chest.

“Yeah, Kathy, I’m sure that would’ve been so hard for you.” His tone dripped sarcasm, but Kathy refused to take notice instead putting a delicately manicured hand on his shoulder.

“I know right? I’m so grateful I missed it.”

“Me too,” Josh mumbled the words into the supply box, but somehow Kathy caught ‘Mr. Mumbles’ anyway.

“Josh you’re such a sweetie. I’ll catch you later alligator!” her usual perky appearance slowly reappeared as she skipped out the swinging doors into the kitchen, and then the restaurant.

Josh sighed, wishing it could have been anyone but Kathy at work today. I think it would kill me. The words bounced around in his head like a homicidal yo-yo, taking down everything in its path. Josh bowed his head a moment longer before hefting the box up into the crook of one arm and marching out to the bar beyond.

At 3:30 Mara, a pretty young woman with black hair and a tanned complexion, arrived at the bar to help tend for the evening shift. Saturday’s were always a busy day, and Josh knew Mara made fantastic tips. Not only because of her looks, but also because she was a skilled mixer who got along with her customers very well. Josh usually left her in charge on his days off, under supervision of a real manager like Kathy or Maxwell of course, but he knew she was trustworthy enough to run the show without him.

Mara greeted him with a friendly wave and a smile.

“Josh! We missed you on Thursday. Those drunk bingo ladies just aren’t as fun without you.”

Josh chuckled and looked at her pointedly. “You mean they aren’t as fun when you’re working with Kathy.”

Mara rolled her eyes and started bouncing on the heels of her feet, imitating the other manager almost perfectly.

“Remember Mara, it’s not about the good tips but the good vibes! Life is all about love!”

Josh threw his head back and laughed, a real laugh that made him feel like a strong rain was coming in over a dry and barren field. “No! There is no way she actually said that to you!”

Mara laughed too and nodded her head fiercely, eyes wide.

“She really did! She actually looked me right in the eye and said that. Next pay day I want to tell her it’s not about cashing in checks but cashing in experiences.”

Josh laughed again and pointed towards the bar.

“It’s time to start doing your prep work. Get on that before Miss Kathy reminds you that ‘a dirty workspace is as bad as a dirty heart!’”

Mara laughed and skipped cheerily off to the other side of the bar to start getting ready for the Saturday evening crowd. Josh felt the smile slowly fade from his face as she did, amusement slowly being replaced with that old familiar emptiness. Like a drought returning to the desert.

He turned toward the door as a small group entered, laughing boisterously, and took seats out in the bar room. Josh lifted a hand to let them know he saw them and turned back to Mara.

“We’ve got company.” She nodded, and still imitating Kathy, bounced cheerily over to the table with pen and notepad in hand. Josh chuckled and started readying glasses for drinks. The bar slowly filled with people as the sun drifted lazily towards the horizon. At almost exactly 6:30 Josh had his back to the bar seats, filling a tall mug with beer and muttering to himself.

“Who even drinks this brand anymore? It tastes like horse-"

A familiar voice cut through the dark din of the restaurant, and the even darker din of Josh’s thoughts.

“Excuse me young man. What am I going to be having tonight?”

Josh spun around to face the old woman, an ecstatic smile lighting up his face.

“Carole! Is it that time already?”

She smiled at him in a way that reminded him of warm cookies, cool milk, and tight hugs. Carole was everyone’s Grandma; she worked a block away as the manager of a CVS and came over several times a week at exactly 6:30. Josh had been serving her whatever the daily special was several times a week for the last three years. She was the highlight of his career at Drops.

“Baby where on earth were you on Thursday? You know I had to listen to that Kari, or Kandy, or whatever her name is tell me about how the ‘real daily special is friendship’?”

Josh laughed and reached across the counter to put a consoling hand on Carole’s arm.

“Just imagine if you had to work with her. I feel bad for her crew, listening to those horrible motivational speeches.”

Carole laughed and patted his hand. “So what am I having today, dear?”

Josh chuckled, “You mean aside from friendship?”

Carole swatted at him playfully as he ducked away. He put his hands on his hips and turned around to look at the menu board, tapping one finger against his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, it looks like our special is something called worms and dirt…”

Carole gasped and leaned over the counter, attempting to see around him at the Daily Special.

“It does not say that!”

Josh chuckled and shook his head.

“No that’s our dessert special for the kids tonight. Chocolate pudding, crushed Oreos, and gummy worms.”

Carole screwed up her face in mock disgust. “And they actually eat it?”

Josh nodded conspiratorially, “Although I’m pretty sure they won’t even sell it to anyone over the age of twelve.”

Carole threw her head back in laughter, and then gave him a stern look

. “Now do you plan on telling me what the special actually is, or do I have to go back there and make it myself?”

Josh reached under the bar and grabbed an apron that he proffered to Carole with a rueful smile; the rain was coming back in. She chuckled again and smacked the apron from his hands. With an expression of mock horror he leaned on the counter across from her.

“You’ll be having ‘the Snowstorm’ as a drink, it’s a white chocolate rum thing that everyone has just been crazy for. And dinner tonight is ‘Moroccan Beef’. It’s sautéed beef tenders with Moroccan spices, served with grilled focaccia slices, a Gorgonzola fondue and a balsamic glaze.”

Carole nodded along as he listed off the Special and looked around when he was finished.

“Do I get my own cabana boy to deliver it to me or…?”

Josh laughed and shook his head; the things old women could get away with saying.

“No ma’am, you’re stuck with me. I hope that’s acceptable.”

Carole gave him another signature grandma look, “You’re always acceptable dear. Now go do your job! I’m certainly not the only customer here.”

Josh chuckled and busied himself with other customers as he waited on Carole’s order to arrive. She always seemed perfectly content sitting at the bar and watching the other patrons, a serene smile on her timeworn face. When her food arrived Josh took it from the server, promising to find them later with the tip, and carried it over to Carole; setting it down with a wide flourish of his arm.

“Your dinner has arrived.”

She swatted him playfully on the arm and took a bite of the dish. “Oh my, that’s wonderful even without the cabana boy. Who comes up with these things?”

Josh shrugged. “Corporate sends us these recipes and tells us when they want us to put up the specials about once or twice a month. I guess someone there decides which regions should get what meals and drinks, and how they should be paired.”

Carole nodded, fascinated. It was one of the things Josh loved about having her as a customer; he felt that she listened to what he said, no matter how dull it might be.

“Now are you going to tell me where you were on Thursday?”

Josh felt his heart stop cold, for the second time that day. He tried to gather his thoughts but it was like trying to piece a sculpture back together after it had been blown up,

“I had some personal matters to attend to.”

Carole gave him a knowing look and leaned forward. “Honey, don’t act like I don’t know you. I can tell when you’re not doing great, and you sure didn’t stay home from work to file your taxes.”

Josh felt the hot prick of tears crawling into his eyes, and blinked hard to ward it off.

“No I wasn’t filing taxes.”

Carole nodded, a wise look in her old eyes. “Did you hear about that poor young man on the bridge? Must’ve been going through something awful to try a thing like that.”

Josh dropped his head for a moment, unprepared to do this so soon. “You don’t think he was a selfish piece of crap?”

Carole looked away. “I think that’s pain talking. And grief. I think he was awfully lucky to have avoided such an awful mistake. I just hope he has people in his life who are helping him get through this time.”

Josh shook his head, a lump forming tight in his throat. “And what if he doesn’t?”

The words came out a hoarse whisper and Josh made a tight fist under the counter, praying that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself right here and now by bursting into tears.

“If he doesn’t honey then he needs to find friends who are willing to look after him when he needs it.”

The words, spoken with a maternal kindness Josh hadn’t been familiar with in a long time, punched through the darkness.

“Look after him?”

Carole gave him a sad, tender smile. “Sometimes when we fall down we need people to help us pick the pieces back up. Maybe give us a place to stay when we need it, grab coffee with us when we’re down, or just call us out when we’re full of it.”

She paused, weighing her words carefully before going on.

“You know you always have your mama Carole to lean on if you need it, right?”

Josh gave her a crooked smile. “Always on Thursday’s and Saturday’s at least.”

Carole gave him a sad smile and grabbed the driest bar napkin within reach. “I should’ve done this a long time ago sweetie, that’s my bad. If you ever need anything all you have to do is give me a call. I’ll take you out for the best pizza in the whole city and we can talk over a nice cold beer.”

Josh gulped back a sob and slid the napkin into his pocket.

“Thank you.”

Carole nodded. “You work until close tonight honey?”

Josh nodded, and she looked at her watch.

“It sure is a good thing I have Sunday’s off. I’ll go sit in a booth so I stop scaring off all your customers.” She slid him enough money to cover the check, and another five-dollar bill. “You go find that nice server and give them their tip. And don’t you dare sneak out of here without me.”

Josh nodded and gave her a tired smile. “Yes ma’am.”