doublelife89
New Here
Hi, I came on here to share my story with an audience, especially since I've been really struggling lately, and hopefully to find others who have gone through similar traumas.
When I was nineteen, which was almost 5 years ago now, I lost my mom, dad, and sister in a double-murder suicide by my dad. At the time I had recently moved out of the house to a different town to go to college- who knows what would have happened if I had stayed home. I won't go into all of the details, but my dad had been battling cancer for two years which had been deemed by doctors to be terminal. The last I had seen him and the rest of my family was about a week and a half before their deaths. My mom had called me at the time because she believed that my dad was going to die soon from the cancer (although she did not explicitly tell me- or my sister- that he was about to die). When I saw him in the hospital, he was pretty much gone already- he wasn't there physical or mentally. I remember that, all throughout the duration of his illness, my sister and I were convinced that he was just going to get better, and were never told by anyone that he was terminal. Anyway, by the end of that same weekend that I had rushed back home to see him, I was told that I could go back to where I currently lived and that the doctors and staff were going to send my dad home. I assumed that this meant that he was going to be okay.
A few days after I had gone back to where I was living ( I think it was on a Wednesday), I talked to my mom on the phone. She sounded okay- better than she had been, anyway- and said that since dad had been home he had more energy and seemed to be doing better. "I'll take that as a good sign", she had said, and I did also. I wasn't anymore worried that I had been already, and I felt like maybe everything was going to be okay.
That weekend, I came home from work to find that I had some phone messages on my house phone. One was from my Grandmother, who was concerned because she couldn't get ahold of my parents at home because everytime she called, the phone was disconnected. The other was from my Aunt who also expressed the same concern. Even though I thought it was strange that they hadn't been able to talk to my family, I thought maybe that my mom had unplugged the phone to keep it from ringing while my dad was getting rest. My other thought was that the power had gone out as it often did in the small town where they lived. I then tried calling them myself, and was met with the noise of the fax machine, meaning that the phone was still disconnected. At that point I started feeling really uneasy, like something was terribly wrong. I went online and tried to contact my sister through FB, to which there was no reply. I also contacted one of her good friends, asking if she had seen her, but she said that my sister had not been at school.
By then I was really worried, and extremely frustrated that I didn't know what was going on.
The next day, after I came home from work (which was the longest shift of my life), I continued to try contacting my family. I finally called some friends of my parents, who owned a small business in the same building as the small business that my parents owned at the time. I spoke to my mom's friend, and she said that no one knew where my parents were. She asked if I wanted to talk to another friend of the family, who happened to be in the store during my call. When I spoke to her, she asked me if I wanted her to contact the police to find out what was going on. I told her yes, and that was the beginning of a waiting game from that point on.
An hour went by of me waiting for a call back from the police, so I tried calling the family friend who I had spoke to earlier. She sounded upset, but said that she didn't know what was going on, and that someone would call me when they knew. More waiting. My boyfriend who I was living with took the initiative to call a friend of ours who lived close to where my family's house was to see if he knew what was going on. When my boyfriend hung up the phone, he seemed very upset, and didn't want to tell me why. I finally got from him that the friend on the phone had seen police putting police tape up around our house. With this info I began to understand what was happening, but still was trying to rationalize it with something more plausible.
About an hour ( a very long hour) later, there was a knock at our door. It was two police officers, with three other ladies. The officers sat us down and informed us that my mom, dad, and sister had died in what appeared to be a double murder suicide. At that moment I felt like I'd been split in half. Even though the events leading up to that moment had suggested what was going on, I could barely comprehend it. Even now (years later), I don't have any way to put how I really felt into words. I never, nor would anyone, would have anticipated something so terrible happening in my family. Although I don't know for sure, I suspect that my dad had some kind of psychotic episode induced by the cancer drugs he was on. But, that in itself is the beginning of a whole other story.
From that point on, my life has been has been dedicated (maybe consumed is a better word) with me trying to cope with what happened. I'm pretty much on my own- I have very little social support- so as you can imagine, that makes everything 100x harder. I moved very far away from where I was living at the time in order to try to start fresh, but I've learned that you can't ever escape your past. I go to University and work, but it seems to be just as difficult (or even moreso) as it was when it first happened. I have symptoms of PTSD, but like I said, everything is made more difficult because I don't have a lot of support. Everyone I know has moved far past the tragedy except for me, and it seems impossible (and frustrating beyond words) for others to understand what I'm going through on a daily basis. So here I am, sharing my story with you in an attempt to maybe find some comfort and support, and at the same time, maybe help some others in the process.
Thanks to those who took the time to read all that. Sorry if it was long- it's been awhile since I've "revisited" the incident, so I guess I had a lot to say.
When I was nineteen, which was almost 5 years ago now, I lost my mom, dad, and sister in a double-murder suicide by my dad. At the time I had recently moved out of the house to a different town to go to college- who knows what would have happened if I had stayed home. I won't go into all of the details, but my dad had been battling cancer for two years which had been deemed by doctors to be terminal. The last I had seen him and the rest of my family was about a week and a half before their deaths. My mom had called me at the time because she believed that my dad was going to die soon from the cancer (although she did not explicitly tell me- or my sister- that he was about to die). When I saw him in the hospital, he was pretty much gone already- he wasn't there physical or mentally. I remember that, all throughout the duration of his illness, my sister and I were convinced that he was just going to get better, and were never told by anyone that he was terminal. Anyway, by the end of that same weekend that I had rushed back home to see him, I was told that I could go back to where I currently lived and that the doctors and staff were going to send my dad home. I assumed that this meant that he was going to be okay.
A few days after I had gone back to where I was living ( I think it was on a Wednesday), I talked to my mom on the phone. She sounded okay- better than she had been, anyway- and said that since dad had been home he had more energy and seemed to be doing better. "I'll take that as a good sign", she had said, and I did also. I wasn't anymore worried that I had been already, and I felt like maybe everything was going to be okay.
That weekend, I came home from work to find that I had some phone messages on my house phone. One was from my Grandmother, who was concerned because she couldn't get ahold of my parents at home because everytime she called, the phone was disconnected. The other was from my Aunt who also expressed the same concern. Even though I thought it was strange that they hadn't been able to talk to my family, I thought maybe that my mom had unplugged the phone to keep it from ringing while my dad was getting rest. My other thought was that the power had gone out as it often did in the small town where they lived. I then tried calling them myself, and was met with the noise of the fax machine, meaning that the phone was still disconnected. At that point I started feeling really uneasy, like something was terribly wrong. I went online and tried to contact my sister through FB, to which there was no reply. I also contacted one of her good friends, asking if she had seen her, but she said that my sister had not been at school.
By then I was really worried, and extremely frustrated that I didn't know what was going on.
The next day, after I came home from work (which was the longest shift of my life), I continued to try contacting my family. I finally called some friends of my parents, who owned a small business in the same building as the small business that my parents owned at the time. I spoke to my mom's friend, and she said that no one knew where my parents were. She asked if I wanted to talk to another friend of the family, who happened to be in the store during my call. When I spoke to her, she asked me if I wanted her to contact the police to find out what was going on. I told her yes, and that was the beginning of a waiting game from that point on.
An hour went by of me waiting for a call back from the police, so I tried calling the family friend who I had spoke to earlier. She sounded upset, but said that she didn't know what was going on, and that someone would call me when they knew. More waiting. My boyfriend who I was living with took the initiative to call a friend of ours who lived close to where my family's house was to see if he knew what was going on. When my boyfriend hung up the phone, he seemed very upset, and didn't want to tell me why. I finally got from him that the friend on the phone had seen police putting police tape up around our house. With this info I began to understand what was happening, but still was trying to rationalize it with something more plausible.
About an hour ( a very long hour) later, there was a knock at our door. It was two police officers, with three other ladies. The officers sat us down and informed us that my mom, dad, and sister had died in what appeared to be a double murder suicide. At that moment I felt like I'd been split in half. Even though the events leading up to that moment had suggested what was going on, I could barely comprehend it. Even now (years later), I don't have any way to put how I really felt into words. I never, nor would anyone, would have anticipated something so terrible happening in my family. Although I don't know for sure, I suspect that my dad had some kind of psychotic episode induced by the cancer drugs he was on. But, that in itself is the beginning of a whole other story.
From that point on, my life has been has been dedicated (maybe consumed is a better word) with me trying to cope with what happened. I'm pretty much on my own- I have very little social support- so as you can imagine, that makes everything 100x harder. I moved very far away from where I was living at the time in order to try to start fresh, but I've learned that you can't ever escape your past. I go to University and work, but it seems to be just as difficult (or even moreso) as it was when it first happened. I have symptoms of PTSD, but like I said, everything is made more difficult because I don't have a lot of support. Everyone I know has moved far past the tragedy except for me, and it seems impossible (and frustrating beyond words) for others to understand what I'm going through on a daily basis. So here I am, sharing my story with you in an attempt to maybe find some comfort and support, and at the same time, maybe help some others in the process.
Thanks to those who took the time to read all that. Sorry if it was long- it's been awhile since I've "revisited" the incident, so I guess I had a lot to say.
