Controlled Chaos (continued)
by Tammy Copechal-Beach
As he was talking, I used my foot to knock out the plug from the wall. What seemed like a lifetime took only mere seconds as I reached for the cord to prevent it from hitting the water.
“NO, Kyle. Are you OK?”
“No, Mom, just help me. Please.”
“Here, stand up so I can put this towel around you.”
“I can't. I'm too weak. Why did you stop me?”
“Because I love you, and you saved my life when I got pregnant with you. You’re meant to be here. Now, let's get you out of here and upstairs to your room.”
Little did I know Kalee had been standing on the other side of the door the whole time.
“Kalee, go call your Aunt Ellie. Tell her we need her over here now. I'm going to take your brother upstairs to get dressed, and then, we’re going to the hospital.”
“It's my fault, isn't it?” she asked.
“No, it's not,” I told her. “Now, will you just please call your aunt? This is an emergency.”
“OK,” she said.
My handsome, sarcastically funny, happy, 16-year-old son had almost succeeded in committing suicide. He had slit his wrists twice, and when that hadn’t worked, he now had been going to electrocute himself. He was admitted at Mon Valley Hospital that night under 24-hour supervision. When I finally got home, I went up to his room and cried. My heart physically hurt for my son. As I cleaned up the wet towels and got him some clothes and deodorant for in the hospital, I found a suicide note in his top drawer with his socks.
It was dated three weeks earlier. It said:
“Mom and Dad,
“I am sorry that you have to do this. I just couldn't take my heart hurting no more. I just don't understand what is wrong with me. Why don't I have a girlfriend like everyone else? Am I that ugly? Am I gay? I don't think so. I tried looking at boys but it was just gross. I feel so alone, like there's no one else like me. I'm just tired of not being able to sleep. My brain keeps racing with all these thoughts and I just don't know what to do with them. It just hurts, and I'm so tired, so I'm going to go now. It's time. I love you. – Kyle”
I was completely devastated. I didn't know what to do or whom to turn to. It might seem selfish of me, but the only thing that kept running through my mind was: not Kyle, please not another child with Bipolar Disorder. I don't think I can take anymore. He was saying the same things my cousin had said before she was diagnosed.
After three weeks in the hospital, Kyle was diagnosed with BPD/Anxiety Disorder, or possibly emerging Schizophrenia. The doctors aren’t quite sure, since schizophrenia can't be positively diagnosed until a person’s about 22. We never saw it coming; Kyle was always so happy.
No matter what, though, Kalee had inadvertently saved her brother's life that night.
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