I tried looking for “rules” before posting. I’ll try not to get too detailed or gruesome. But I’m so badly affected by my nephew’s suicide, I seem to be the only one who’s left with this amount of suffering.
I worked in a prison for six years, and I had the 24 hours of hyper-vigilance and constant mild anxiety, once people from work, (visitors and offenders after release) started recognizing me. One time, I was almost 2 hours from home and while walking downtown, I almost ran into a visitor I was very familiar with. Plenty enough death, violence, and officer assaults, that it makes you really keep up your awareness, even at home.
This sparked issues from childhood, (emotional and witnessing horrific physical abuse on my cousins/“brothers”) and I was diagnosed with PTSD for those reasons.
20 years ago, I took care of my brother’s twins as a kind of nanny while he was in prison. I raised them from ages 2 to about 7 when they started living with their dad again. But we stayed very close.
February 5th, 2019, my nephew took his own life with a single shot to the head from his .22 rifle. There were so many signs and opportunities for me/us to intervene. I went to see him in the hospital. He was airlifted 2-hours-drive away. He was on life support. Something would beep, and the room was frantic with white coats, and observers, and noise, then calm again. They weren’t trying to save him. They were waiting for permission to harvest his organs.
My mother, who had him when I didn’t, and his father, needed to access them house where it happened. I asked them to give me a day to get it cleaned up because I had already been to the house and I didn’t want them to see it. There was a tremendous amount of blood. There was other stuff that was identifiable. I tried to get rid of the emotion and just get it done.
I used to rock this boy to sleep every day and I would wrap him in his Sesame Street blanket and hold his head in my hands. I’d wrap my fingers in his long curls while he slept.
I found the blanket wrapped nicely in his closet, and I took it. It smelled like him. And then I started cleaning.
After that, I’ve been snappy and quick to anger. I’ve been extremely depressed and had constant suicidal ideations. I’m not working because of my OCD and major depressive disorder. I have an three year old, and it’s affecting my relationship to him because I keep him at arms length and avoid becoming too close.
My psychologist recommended hospitalization, but our hospitals in this state are just a suicide watch. I only talk to her once per month because of cost/insurance issues. There is no help. I can’t talk to my family because I don’t want them to know what it’s been like on me after doing the family the favor of cleaning up his kitchen. His father still thanks me occasionally die doing it, and if he finds out that I’m so bothered, he’ll probably start using again.
Anyway. I’m glad to see the forum here.
I worked in a prison for six years, and I had the 24 hours of hyper-vigilance and constant mild anxiety, once people from work, (visitors and offenders after release) started recognizing me. One time, I was almost 2 hours from home and while walking downtown, I almost ran into a visitor I was very familiar with. Plenty enough death, violence, and officer assaults, that it makes you really keep up your awareness, even at home.
This sparked issues from childhood, (emotional and witnessing horrific physical abuse on my cousins/“brothers”) and I was diagnosed with PTSD for those reasons.
20 years ago, I took care of my brother’s twins as a kind of nanny while he was in prison. I raised them from ages 2 to about 7 when they started living with their dad again. But we stayed very close.
February 5th, 2019, my nephew took his own life with a single shot to the head from his .22 rifle. There were so many signs and opportunities for me/us to intervene. I went to see him in the hospital. He was airlifted 2-hours-drive away. He was on life support. Something would beep, and the room was frantic with white coats, and observers, and noise, then calm again. They weren’t trying to save him. They were waiting for permission to harvest his organs.
My mother, who had him when I didn’t, and his father, needed to access them house where it happened. I asked them to give me a day to get it cleaned up because I had already been to the house and I didn’t want them to see it. There was a tremendous amount of blood. There was other stuff that was identifiable. I tried to get rid of the emotion and just get it done.
I used to rock this boy to sleep every day and I would wrap him in his Sesame Street blanket and hold his head in my hands. I’d wrap my fingers in his long curls while he slept.
I found the blanket wrapped nicely in his closet, and I took it. It smelled like him. And then I started cleaning.
After that, I’ve been snappy and quick to anger. I’ve been extremely depressed and had constant suicidal ideations. I’m not working because of my OCD and major depressive disorder. I have an three year old, and it’s affecting my relationship to him because I keep him at arms length and avoid becoming too close.
My psychologist recommended hospitalization, but our hospitals in this state are just a suicide watch. I only talk to her once per month because of cost/insurance issues. There is no help. I can’t talk to my family because I don’t want them to know what it’s been like on me after doing the family the favor of cleaning up his kitchen. His father still thanks me occasionally die doing it, and if he finds out that I’m so bothered, he’ll probably start using again.
Anyway. I’m glad to see the forum here.