I couldn't say that there were no warning signs or that I didn't see it coming when he successfully took his life, although I can certainly say that about the first attempt.
I logged into the computer and I saw a message, I did think it was strange but it did not register what it was and how it would effect the rest of my life. I called him up and he was cheerful and pleasant, I asked him about the message which was to a friend who he had been confiding in about his hopelessness and suicidal thoughts and how worthless he believed he was. It wasn't a good idea to do that over the phone, but I just didn't understand how he could have been keeping such a large thing from me. We had been married for almost 12 years and we just didn't have the problems that other families had, or so I thought. The response I received was horrifying, he said that "You deserve better than me," and started sobbing, I had no idea what to do, I was about 15 minutes away and if he was going to do something to himself then I had to make it there before it happened. He hung up on me and I ran into my car, I drove as fast as a could, over 90MPH on a few occasions, but I knew we had a gun and there were bullets in the house. I called his cell, no answer, I called the home phone and no answer, I started talking on the answering machine until it hung up on me and I called back and back leaving messages that he would be able to hear. Eight minutes later I ran into the house, he was laying in the bathtub with the .45 pointed at his head, I forcefully grabbed the gun away from him, and I was lucky that it didn't go off but getting it away from him was what I needed, at that point a bullet hole in the wall didn't matter.
So what now? I put him in the car and we went to the emergency room. We were brought right into a room and a nurse came in to talk to us to get a report. I don't remember what we told her, or more accurately what he told her, as I tried not to say much, he was the one who needed help, the doctor took a blood test to see what the cause could have been and found there were some meth-amphetamines in his system, I didn't think much of it as he often took Claratin-D for allergies, although after the fact I am not sure he was taking them any more. I had also found a hookah in the trunk of his car the week or two before which he told me he had taken from a couple college kids who had been using it in our parking lot (something that I didn't remember until months after), and at the time seemed a perfectly good explanation, he also dumped it in the dumpster as soon as I found it. So I am not at all sure if he was using any sort of drugs but it is possible and with his depression I am sure that he was looking for ways to take care of it without involving me. During the hospital visit the doctor prescribed him an antidepressant, and wouldn't allow us to leave until he was able to get a hold of a mental health practitioner who would be able to see us that day. After 3 or 4 hours we were allowed to leave as long as I drove directly over to the mental health facility, which is what I did next. He went in for an hour or so and then I was asked to join and also was given instructions. We were able to go home that day, looking back I still can't believe that they discharged him, but we went home. I had taken the gun and I hid it, I took it out of the house, but not off the property which would be a mistake later, but it was hidden. Before we made it home we stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the medication that he had been prescribed.
The next week, I was supposed to keep an eye on him, I took him every other day to either a mental health visit or a medical doctor visit, and waited and waited. I didn't know who I should tell or talk to, so I didn't. He didn't want anyone to know what had happened so I was quiet...
I logged into the computer and I saw a message, I did think it was strange but it did not register what it was and how it would effect the rest of my life. I called him up and he was cheerful and pleasant, I asked him about the message which was to a friend who he had been confiding in about his hopelessness and suicidal thoughts and how worthless he believed he was. It wasn't a good idea to do that over the phone, but I just didn't understand how he could have been keeping such a large thing from me. We had been married for almost 12 years and we just didn't have the problems that other families had, or so I thought. The response I received was horrifying, he said that "You deserve better than me," and started sobbing, I had no idea what to do, I was about 15 minutes away and if he was going to do something to himself then I had to make it there before it happened. He hung up on me and I ran into my car, I drove as fast as a could, over 90MPH on a few occasions, but I knew we had a gun and there were bullets in the house. I called his cell, no answer, I called the home phone and no answer, I started talking on the answering machine until it hung up on me and I called back and back leaving messages that he would be able to hear. Eight minutes later I ran into the house, he was laying in the bathtub with the .45 pointed at his head, I forcefully grabbed the gun away from him, and I was lucky that it didn't go off but getting it away from him was what I needed, at that point a bullet hole in the wall didn't matter.
So what now? I put him in the car and we went to the emergency room. We were brought right into a room and a nurse came in to talk to us to get a report. I don't remember what we told her, or more accurately what he told her, as I tried not to say much, he was the one who needed help, the doctor took a blood test to see what the cause could have been and found there were some meth-amphetamines in his system, I didn't think much of it as he often took Claratin-D for allergies, although after the fact I am not sure he was taking them any more. I had also found a hookah in the trunk of his car the week or two before which he told me he had taken from a couple college kids who had been using it in our parking lot (something that I didn't remember until months after), and at the time seemed a perfectly good explanation, he also dumped it in the dumpster as soon as I found it. So I am not at all sure if he was using any sort of drugs but it is possible and with his depression I am sure that he was looking for ways to take care of it without involving me. During the hospital visit the doctor prescribed him an antidepressant, and wouldn't allow us to leave until he was able to get a hold of a mental health practitioner who would be able to see us that day. After 3 or 4 hours we were allowed to leave as long as I drove directly over to the mental health facility, which is what I did next. He went in for an hour or so and then I was asked to join and also was given instructions. We were able to go home that day, looking back I still can't believe that they discharged him, but we went home. I had taken the gun and I hid it, I took it out of the house, but not off the property which would be a mistake later, but it was hidden. Before we made it home we stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the medication that he had been prescribed.
The next week, I was supposed to keep an eye on him, I took him every other day to either a mental health visit or a medical doctor visit, and waited and waited. I didn't know who I should tell or talk to, so I didn't. He didn't want anyone to know what had happened so I was quiet...
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