He Did Not Die

[*Trigger Warning: The content of this story contains sensitive material relating to mental illness.*]

One year ago today, I walked into my Grandmothers house to find my Dad unconscious in his bed. I didn’t realize at first, though the thought was in the back of my mind. Then I found the note. A goodbye note. A note thanking everyone for their help. A note describing the pain and loss that he could no longer bare. My Dad had attempted suicide.

I shook him, he did not respond. I started yelling, he gurgled. I watched in horror as he began to twitch and I watched as his eyes rolled and darted around the room.

I flew down the stairs in a fluster and demanded my Grandmother to sit on the couch. She can not hear and I needed her to understand though I did not have time to communicate… “SIT DOWN!” I called 911 as fast as I could and I ran out the door to find her house number. I knew it, but I could not think of it.

Shaking. Heart pounding.

“Um. I’m pretty sure my Dad just tried to kill himself. He was unresponsive and I found a note.”

“Are you with him now?”

“I was, but now I’m downstairs.”

I did not want to be in that room. I didn’t want to watch what could be happening or what could happen next. I just wanted someone else to come so that I didn’t have to be witness to the reality I am facing.

“I need you to go upstairs and check on him for me.”

“O…Okay.”

I crept up the stairs and started yelling- “Dad! Dad! Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

At first, nothing. And then I heard a breath and then a moan.

“Okay, I don’t think he is dead. I just heard some noises.”

The 911 operator began giving me instructions on how to position his body to prepare for the first responders arrival and to ensure he was able to breath and not hurt himself further. I didn’t want to touch him. I couldn’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening.

Quickly, the paramedics came and took over. My Grandmother, still not completely clear of what is happening, is on the couch watching in disbelief as first responders flooded her home and rushed upstairs to attend her son.

He wasn’t dead. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for him, he had unsuccessfully tried to commit suicide.

I sat in the Hospital with him all day. Why? Because I am not leaving here until he gets the help he needs. I am pissed and I mean business. Mike Boylan, you have a new advocate whether you like it or not!

I understand mental illness. I know that he is sick. I know that it is his illness, not him, who doesn’t want to live anymore. I also know that he is smart (we’ve been down this road before) and will say all the right things so that he can go home and do this again. Hell no. 1. There was a note. A note means you are now legally bound to this hospital. 2. I am not losing another family member. I am not losing the only person I have left that knows me and loves me unconditionally.

He hallucinated for three days. He could not speak for himself. He couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t use the bathroom. He couldn’t feed himself. He couldn’t walk. He felt that his life was over. He felt that there was nothing left to live for. For three days I stood next to him and argued those lies. Sometimes I was mean, sometimes I was compassionate. Mostly I just waited for the professionals so that I could plead his case in order to get him into a program that would ultimately save his life.

I truly can tell you I was not mad at him. Hurt? Yes. Disappointed? Yes. But, I knew that what he was going through was beyond me and that he needed help. REAL help. Not a once a month checkup with a Therapist, not a three day impatient stay. He needed an intensive program and I am not leaving until that happens.

Fast forward one year and Mike Boylan is alive and well. He is THRIVING! Mike Boylan is thriving! He has a good job, a family who loves him and support from friends and family. He sees a therapist regularly, he takes his medication and he openly talks about his struggles in hopes that his story helps someone else.

He hated every. single. moment. in that Psych ward and I did not care. He was doing something hard that would ultimately be the best thing for his future. Eventually, he began to see that too and started willingly putting in the effort. He started to experience true healing. Life giving healing.

Sometimes you have to do the hard thing to get to the good things. Trust me, it is worth it. I can see it in my Dad- it was worth it.

I am so proud of how far my Dad has come since that day. What a difference a year can make.

(Some of you may, or may not, know that my Dad and I did not have a great relationship growing up. There was a lot of bitterness, hurt and resentment that plagued me into my late teen and early adult years. Once I became a Christian I was able to truly forgive my Father, but there were still scars that lingered and feelings of hurt that arose from time to time. Not only has Dad experienced personal healing, but there has been much healing in our relationship.)

I knew the signs and I started to notice Dad slipping into old familiar patterns of depression and anxiety. I told him, a few times, that I was concerned and that he should make an appointment with his Doctor. Eventually he agreed but it was almost too late. By the time he had made his appointment he was already so deep in his thoughts and feelings that medicine wasn’t going to be able to pull him out quick enough.

I don’t see him that often so I was unaware of the toll his life circumstances were having on him. For two months he sat and thought over how he could take himself from this world. TWO MONTHS! For two months he thought that dying was a better option than living. This is not okay! Dying is not a better option than living.

If you have these thoughts, its not alright! You need to get help. You can have a life worth living. You too can be happy and thrive. There is a better way out of the depression you are feeling. You’re not weak. You’re not an inconvenience. You are worth it. Reach out to someone and get the help you need. It may be hard at first, but it is oh so WORTH IT!

_______________

Dad, I know you are reading this and I just want you to know that I am proud of you and I am so happy to see how far you have come since this time last year. I know it is hard to look back and see where you were- but let it be a reminder of how far you have come. You are not that person any more. You are strong. You are resilient. You are a walking example of Gods love and mercy. Keep doing the hard things. We love you and are always here for you.