"Christ, What Have You Done?"

Friends, and random readers, you've been with me through the ups and downs. This post will go real down. And it sucks so much after a week that started out so good. Just a word of warning, I will probably cuss a lot in this post. Also, I will be exploring some very dark subject matters If either are going to bother you, skip to the next one. As I have been open and honest with my feelings and emotions from the beginning, so shall I be in this post. (Funny, I find myself procrastinating as I write this because it still hurts so much.)

So my week was going well. I have been having some cool email conversations with musicians here in NY. I had a blast with the "In My Pants" and "Geeks/Nerds" posts and the conversations they were stirring with friends. (Note, "In My Pants, the Sequel" will come some time next week.) I was looking forward to possible hooking up with some new friends for the weekend. Then I get a call from my Mom around 11:30am on Thursday with bad news. (Oh, I know "my Mom" with the capital M is improper grammar, but she's my Mom. If you knew her, you'd know she gets the capital M.) I dread a call from Mom when she says in a somber tone, "Jim, I have bad news." I keep having visions of that call when my Mom has to tell my sister was wounded or killed in the illegal, inept, and immoral war in Iraq. Kelly's fine. However, my oldest cousin, Dominguin, was found dead that morning of carbon monoxide poisoning. Kinda sucked the wind out of my sails for the rest of the day.

I sat at my desk in a daze. When I finally got the gumption to get up and take lunch later I realized that I hadn't moved my car when in time and I got a $45 parking ticket. Fuck, can this day get any shittier! I mean, the night before I was feeling low because of the stress from the apartment, then this and the parking ticket. Neea. . .grrrr....ar...hh.r.r.r.r...........

FUCK!!!

You know, I don't think I can make that word big enough or red enough to express what I felt that day and into Friday. My mom calls me on Friday to give me the details that she didn't have on Thursday. As we suspected, my cousin Dominguin commited suicide. Out of respect for my family I am not going to go into all the details of his death. But I will say that he battled depression for close to two decades. (I think he was 32 or 33. I'm 29 and the third oldest in my generation.) He has never been truly happy or content. I've been told that he has said that he really didn't know what that even felt like. He tried every anti-depression drug and therapy out there.

I have been awash with emotions. After getting off the phone with Mom, I read an email that another cousin sent out yesterday to the family, basically saying a prayer for Dominguin, I just broke down and balled. (Hey Robin Alexa, you'll have to change the answer to that last question.) I went into one of the other offices, shut the door and cried. . .hard. I don't know how to process this.

On one rational level, I know that my cousin is finally at peace. (His roommate said that Dominguin had a look of peace on him when he found him. The first time in a long time.) I can't imagine living with that kind of inner pain that he felt for close to two decades. Heck, after a year and a half of carpal tunnel syndrome I said, "If I feel this shitty in 6 months, I'm killing myself." In experiments, by people fucking cruel to animals, it has been shown that a rat who gets electrocute by everything he touches with start going mad and attacking himself. That is what I felt, because everything I did caused insane pain. Would I have had the strength to last 20 years with that? I don't think so. So I can 't judge my cousin on that level and I am happy that he is with God right now, like a cup of water that is returned to the ocean, and free of the turmoil and pain he felt.

But on another level I am so fucking angry! Dammit Dominguin, I know we were never close, but I loved you. I still love you. You were supposed to be there with the rest of my cousins for my wedding! (Whenever that happens and I find the right person to marry.) You were supposed to be there in the circle of us guy cousins as we sang, drunk off our asses, Piano Man by Billy Joel like we did at Aunt Terry's wedding! I mean, I can't even begin to imagine what your brother is feeling. When he has children, they will never know their uncle! And. . . .

FUCK!!

Sorry about that. I'm still a little emotional. It is times like these that I am so glad that I don't believe in a theistic God. Because if God, as a being, couldn't have created my cousin so that all his nuerochemicals worked and didn't get fucked up with the changes of puberty, then that God is just fucking cruel. But I don't have a theistic believe in God, so I don't have a deity to be angry at. (Remember folks, atheism isn't the only alternative to theism, but I guess I'll write more about that in the future.)


So folks, I don't know what more to tell you. I find myself going back and seeking solace in music as I always do. Last night, I went up to my old college, SUNY Purchase, to see a concert by my mentor and professor, Joe Ferry. The rhythms and magic of the ska music helped to soothe the fresh wounds on my soul, like the salt waters of the ocean lapping at the shore. Also, it was good to reconnect with friends my from grad program.

Also, I went back and listened to the songs that helped me through my darkness. During those painful months, I would listen to these songs over and over again.

The first is the song The Pass by the band Rush. (The song link takes you to the lyrics, the band link to the video.) This song was given to me by my friend, Charles, as I was going through a tough time in college. Its messages still inspires me today. And I know that its lyrics at the end are condemning of giving up, which my cousin in a way did, but I can't help feel that this song understands the pain, the rage, the inescapabilitiy (to create a new word) that we sometimes feel.

The second song is Don't Give Up by Peter Gabriel. (The song link takes you to the lyrics, the other to Peter's site.) I truly believe this song was inspired by God. It vibrates at such a high, and healing level. Again, its messages carries me through the rough waters of life.

And the third song, which is a little more blunt, is Suicide by Bobby Gaylor. (The song link takes you to the video, the other to Bobby's page where you can find the lyrics.) He wrote this after a friend attempted suicide. It is not an endorsment of suicide, though it may appear at first. Actually, if you listen all the way through to the end you will see that it is the opposite.

I really don't have an end for this post. Again, the pain is still all to real for me. So I will say. . .

Dominguin, I love you.
May you have the peace now you never knew in life.
And I miss you.
We all do.

Edited to add:

Don't know where you are in life. However, if you are going to pass judgement on my cousin for his suicide know that you have no place to make a judgement unless you have walked through The Darkness yourself. I never understood the depressions my bi-polar friend went through until I was in that place myself. And that is a place I wish on no one. If you have never struggled with depression, the kind that gives you suicidal thoughts, consider yourself blessed.