I’m not sure why I feel so compelled to reconstruct every minute detail of that terrible day and why I want to know everything, and I mean everything, that was going through Erik’s mind before he died. Maybe this is normal. I have no idea, because I’ve never suffered such a horrible loss. So I’m not sure if these are typical mental ruminations for a bereaved parent. It’s almost as if I want to “think it to death” so that it loses some of its overwhelming emotional charge.
I dreaded transcribing this part of the channeling session, because it’s very, very painful for me. Forgive the indulgence and the tears.
Channeling Transcript
Me: When you were about to kill yourself, Erik, what was the last chain of thoughts that brought you to that decision point?
Erik (mildly exasperated): Mom, I’ve already told you!
Kim: Well, Erik, could you tell her again, please?
Erik: I thought about suicide from time to time, but not as much as everyone thinks I did.
Me: But that last…
Erik: I was fooling around, just fooling around, and I was thinking should I or shouldn’t I, should I or shouldn’t I?
Me: God how I wish I cold have been with you to help you with that decision.
Erik: But Mom, you can’t be with me all the time!
Me: True.
Erik: I’ve learned that if it’s something someone wants to do, they’re going to find a way to do it, like everything else. I deliberately did it while you were gone.
Me (wondering if he was evading the question): Yeah, I know, but the last thoughts…
Erik: I’m getting to that. I didn’t want to be able to be revived, and I wanted to do it while you were gone, Mom. Oh, it was hard, because you’re so intuitive. It was real impulsive. It wasn’t something that I planned that day. I mean I was thinking about it, but I didn’t have anything planned, really. So I found myself there sitting at the desk in my room thinking, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” Then I thought, “I don’t wanna do this anymore. What the fuck!” And I pulled the trigger. There was no anger. It was more like giving up.
Me: Aw, like you were resigned to do it?
Erik: Yeah. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do what I came here to do.
Me: I think you forgot what you came here to do.
Erik (laughing loudly): You know that! You got that right! But I’m so sorry, Mom. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I put you through all this. I didn’t think about that at all.
Me: I know, Baby. You just wanted relief.
Erik (in a somber tone): Yeah.
It’s funny how the brain works. When I was listening to him recounting his vacillation on whether or not to pull the trigger, I found myself thinking there’s a chance he won’t, that I can intervene now. I felt a momentary spark of hope jolting throughout my body, a delusion, of course.
His comment on my intuitiveness reminds me of how uneasy I felt all that day. Usually, when I feel uneasy like that, the reason is very clear to me. If it isn’t, then I can guarantee someone in the family is about to have a fender-bender or something. About the time he would have pulled the trigger, I also started to have a headache. This is very unusual for me. I can count the number of times I’ve had a headache in the last 10 years on my ten fingers. The downside of my intuitiveness is glaringly painful. Why didn’t I act on my uneasy feelings? Why didn’t I turn around and go back.
To make matters worse, when Erik said his decision was impulsive and that he didn’t have any plans to kill himself, it made me reflect on our last conversation together. He had just sold some of my husband’s possessions to buy a hunting rifle he had been drooling over. Of course we took the gun away immediately when we found out that he essentially procured it with dirty money. Furthermore, given his mental illness, we always had a strict rule that he was not allowed access or ownership of any guns, at least not while he was living with us. At first, he denied having stolen anything from the house, but that morning, I found the receipts for the stolen goods in his truck and confronted him about it. My last words just before asking him if he wanted to come with us to have lunch were basically telling him he would have to try to recover what he stole from his father. I said it quietly but sternly. The worst part: SInce I was a little irritated with him at the time, I don’t think I told him that I loved him before leaving the house. This is a huge tradition in our family. We always say a heartfelt “I love you” whenever we part ways either in person or on the phone.
Later on, I found out that Erik had one of his older friends buy the gun he used to take his life well over a year before his death. Apparently, he and his friend loved going to target practice together at a local shooting range whenever they could afford it (which was hardly ever.) He hid that gun extremely well in the pigsty that was his room. We had no idea it was there. God how I wish I had had a reason to perform a thorough search. But he was doing so well during the previous few months.
I know many of you will say things like, “Stop blaming yourself; you did all you could,” but I’m sure any mother in my shoes would have a difficult time letting go of the guilt over not fulling protecting her child from harm. Very sad.
