January 29, 2010 was a day that I won't forget, though I wish I could.
It started like a normal day. My alarm clock was my toddler screaming my name. I got him breakfast, made a pot of coffee, and grabbed my netbook to catch up on the news; my friends' news on Facebook. Around 7ish I noticed my brother post "Took 2 bottles of Prozac with alcohol. In the ER." as his status. Obviously, a thousand things went through my mind. I really hoped it was a sick joke. I hoped it was someone else he was talking about. In any case, I thought I'd call my parents to see if they had spoken with him.
My dad answered the phone. Looking back, he sounded somewhat forlorn at that moment. Little did I know he had just received a call that a good friend of his (who had cancer) wouldn't make it through the weekend. I asked if he had talked to Jake. No, he hadn't. I told him what the status said, and asked if Jake even had Prozac. My heart sunk to hear that he had been prescribed it for his depression. We got off the phone quickly, and I went in and prayed with Christian.
After several calls to different people (including Jake), Danny made the decision that we should go to see Jake immediately. We packed things up, not knowing if we would have to spend the night in order to see him and headed out the door. Looking back now, I really think I was numb and running on adrenaline.
I think the drive took about an hour and 15 mins. or so. Jonathan screamed much of the drive, which didn't help matters. When we got to the hospital, we were walking in the front doors and a friend from youth group that I haven't seen in 15 years yelled my name. He is a Chief in the Navy, and was there with his pregnant wife. He later checked on me and gave me his information should we need anything.
Seeing Jake was bittersweet. I was so thankful he was OK, but the emotion of the moment was almost unbearable. We held hands, cried and talked for almost an hour. When I could hear Jonathan screaming in waiting room from the ER room where I was at, I knew that it was time to leave. I hugged Jake and told him I'd see him soon.
Jonathan cried much of the way home. We decided to stop at Cabazon outlets for a few minutes of retail therapy, coffee, and a break from the screaming baby.
Jake was transferred to a Navy hospital in San Diego that night, so the next day we headed to see him there (after Danny worked a bit, I had breakfast with an old friend, and the boys got haircuts). Jonathan screamed almost non-stop all day long, and Christian acted up. I think the boys were tired and off schedule, and perhaps they sensed the stress in the air.
Saturday was harder for me. It seemed that when we got to the front door of our home Friday night, the reality really hit Danny and me. When I awoke on Saturday, I didn't want to get out of bed. I knew I'd see Jake again, most likely in a mental hospital, and I didn't want to do it.
Jake's attitude Saturday was in stark contrast to his attitude Friday. On Friday he was remorseful. On Saturday he joking and blase about it all. Later I learned that the Serotonin, still going through his veins, was talking, not Jake. Serotonin keeps you from feeling pain.
On Sunday, the sermon was extremely relevant; mirrored by the sermon my parents had at their church. (God is so good in the way he comforts us.) I was wiped, but Danny thought it important to visit Jake again, so that is exactly what he did. The boys and I stayed home to try to regain some sort of normalcy.
Jake's suicide attempt fell on the 2 year anniversary of my cousin Jason's death by accidental suicide. The coincidence was eerie. We are extremely thankful that Jake's attempt wasn't successful, and that he is in a place (the Marine Corps) that has the motivation and resources to help him the way he needs to be helped.
Friday was a day that I know I'll never forget, though I wish I could.