Have you ever pictured yourself laid back in your recliner, tears falling down your face, with a 40-caliber Glock handgun laid across your chest? Your hand is squeezing the pistol grip so tight you feel the tingling of numbness as your fingertips and knuckles are turning as white as the Florida sand. You know how dangerous firearms can be, so you keep your finger down the side of the barrel and outside the trigger guard.
You hold the gun, laying it across your chest at first. Thoughts racing through your mind, wrestling with the pain in your heart. Still crying, you put the barrel of the gun against your temple.
So, this is what it feels like to have the cold steel of a barrel pressed against your head with your own hand.
You lay the gun back on your chest as another wave of pain overtakes your body and makes you tremble. Never realizing your heart could hurt this bad, you wonder if you’re going to pull the trigger.
Let’s start over, this time talking about me – because this is about me and my story.
I lay back in my recliner, tears falling down my face, with a 40-caliber Glock handgun laid across my chest. My hand is squeezing the pistol grip so tight that I feel the tingling of numbness as my fingertips and knuckles turn as white as the Florida sand. I know how dangerous firearms can be, so I keep my finger down the side of the barrel and outside the trigger guard.
I hold the gun, laying it across my chest at first. Thoughts are racing through my mind, wrestling with the pain in my heart. Still crying, I put the barrel of the gun against my temple.
So, I think to myself, this is what it feels like to have the cold steel of a barrel pressed against my head with my own hand.
I lay the gun back on my chest as another wave of pain overtakes my body and makes me tremble. Never realizing before that my heart could hurt this bad, I wonder if I am going to pull the trigger.
I ask myself:
Is this the day my life ends?
Is this the day all my pain stops?
I put the barrel of the Glock in my mouth and the reality of what is about to happen is overwhelming. With the taste of gun oil on my lips, my hand is shaking so badly that until I close my mouth tightly around the barrel, it bounces against my teeth. The metal against my teeth equates to fingernails on a chalkboard or scraping a fork across a dinner plate, and it makes “that” noise.
Do I say, “fuck it” and pull the trigger?
Maybe I should call 911 and report a suicide so my wife doesn’t come home to the messy scene I just created? Even though the aﬀair she had for the last year that I just found out about moments ago help push me to this breaking point? Do I call my adult children, not to tell them my plans, but to hear their voices and tell them I love them one last time?
For some reason I can’t pull the trigger at that moment. I lay the Glock across my chest and cry a little while longer. I pick up my cell phone and snap a picture so I can send it to my wife and tell her I love her one last time.
Then I have an AHA! moment. How pathetic is this? I just took a picture of a gun laying across my chest, in tears, to send my wife.
I realize this very second that I do not want to die. I want the pain to stop. I ABSOLUTELY want the pain to stop, but I don’t want to die. I don’t want to put my 4 adult children through the pain of losing me and asking themselves “Why?” for the rest of their lives.
And even though I’m absolutely crushed by my wife’s actions, I truly don’t want to put this guilt on her either. I also realize that sending this picture is more of a manipulation move to make her feel the pain I’m feeling.
I lay the phone down. I lay the gun down. I think about how my life has just been changed forever. Right now, I feel lost. I feel hopeless. I feel helpless. I’m scared of the future. But I know I do not want to die. As I said before, I want the pain to stop, but I don’t want to die. I have many more things I want to do with my grown children and three granddaughters.
Life is hard right now, but it’s getting better. Some days are worse than others, but the better days get a little better every time.
I’m back to work. I’m enjoying my family, even though it looks diﬀerent now. I have an amazing therapist I see weekly. I have a new outlook on life, and I am very excited about my future and this trip to New Orleans coming up – a place I have never been, but have always wanted to go to. An all-guys trip with friends from work. We all need to decompress sometimes.
Tasting the gun oil on a Glock. Never again ….