The Promise - Chapter 15 - Quarter to Midnight (A Suicide Averted)

Anthony Bourdain, Robin Williams, Kurt Cobain, my sister Laura, my brother Mark and very nearly me. Suicide is on the rise. This chapter of my memoir to show how one well-timed phone call from a friend gave me thirty-five more years of life. (I apologize for presenting the chapter out of context, but I think you'll get the picture.)

15 – Quarter to Midnight 

MAY 1983.

I got back from Morgantown and experienced a complete mental, emotional and spiritual collapse.

Looking back, I am tempted to say I was under demonic attack, which was possible. I was definitely guilty of countless sins since my conversion, but this was the first time I knowingly and willingly disobeyed the Lord and defiantly stepped outside of His will. That would certainly leave me in a vulnerable position, spiritually. However, I don’t like crediting the devil for things I can attribute to my own foolishness.

School was the first thing to suffer. That semester I took a high-level production course to finish my film major, and three high level computer-programming courses to finish my computer science minor. Before I went to Morgantown, my studies suffered seriously from my pre-occupation with winning Kathy back. Now, after the trip and the feeling of profound loss I experienced on the way home, I no longer had the ability or will to concentrate on my studies. My computer classes were doomed. If I were smart, I would have withdrawn from them when I had the chance rather than fail. Unfortunately, I had always had good grades. I had never withdrawn from a class before. I didn’t even know you could. So I didn’t. I failed the classes and crashed my G.P.A.

And I couldn’t have cared less.

The only thing that attracted my attention was my production class in the film department. Personally, I didn’t care whether I passed or failed that one either, but, I was partnered with a good guy named David Butler and I didn’t want to leave him in the lurch. Working on our final project, a 16mm, sync-sound short film called The Lunch, currently available on Youtube, was the only respite I had from my downward death spiral.

Secularly speaking, there was no reason to feel the way I did.

Although the trip to Morgantown didn’t result in the restoration of our previous full-time, committed romantic relationship, outwardly things were definitely improving. We were suddenly friends; friends with benefits, too. Perhaps more importantly, Kathy told me she and her other boyfriend had broken up. That news should have made me happy, but it didn’t. I knew she was hurt, and that hurt me.

Still, whether she had another boyfriend or not was irrelevant. The Lord had removed his hand from our relationship. It didn’t matter if I managed to keep the physical shell of it alive. I didn’t want to live without the blessing of God. Frankly, I didn’t want to live at all. I had placed all of my eggs in one basket with Kathy. I had no future plans without her. No future desires. My life was over.

To make matters worse, it wasn’t like I could turn to the Lord for comfort. He was the one who put me in this position! Granted, I had sinned, but what did He expect me to do? Why did He give me a test that He knew I would fail? God’s actions might have been just, but I certainly did not consider them fair.

I was definitely angrier with God than I was hurt by Kathy. Kathy was only human; a sinner like myself. God was God. He could do whatever He wanted. He could relent.

He could return his blessing to our relationship. It was entirely His decision. He was God.

I decided to force His hand. One Friday, sometime in May, I demanded that God have Kathy call me. If He didn’t, I swore I would kill myself. I was serious. Deadly serious.

It was also crazy. Looking back, I can’t remember why it was so important to me to talk to Kathy that night. Or why I felt it would take an act of God to accomplish it. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, but we were still talking. I could just as easily contact her myself. I guess I just wanted to make the Lord jump through a hoop.

Or did I?

As the evening progressed, I sat alone on the front porch swing. Part of me hoped Kathy was at home this weekend, and that I would soon see her old familiar Plymouth driving up and parking in front of my house. Part of me didn’t want to see it. What would be the point? We were ultimately doomed without the hand of God upon our relationship. Seeing her would only make a mockery of my life.

I had no future. No purpose. I was ready to die.

I waited outside until I heard my father turn off the television and go upstairs after the eleven o’clock news. Then I came inside. I looked at the clock. Eleven-thirty-five. I had given the Lord until midnight. Time was almost up.

What to do? Or, should I say, how to do it? We didn’t have any guns in the house. Hanging was out of the question. It seemed like too much work. I didn’t know how to tie the knot I always saw them use in the movies, and I didn’t think our ceilings were sufficiently high enough. I needed something simpler.

I went to the kitchen and pulled out a large chef’s knife. It had a black handle and an ugly slightly grayish, eight-inch blade. Perfect. I took it back into the living room. I sat down in the yellow easy chair near the window across from the television. My father usually sat there. It seemed like as good a place to die as any. 

I looked at the clock. Eleven-forty.

I’ve read psychology books that say before young people attempt to kill themselves, they imagine their funerals. They imagine their friends’ grief. How everyone would wish they had treated him or her better. 

I had no such thoughts. None.

In all honesty, I bore no animosity to anyone. I loved my family. I always found them very supportive. And I still loved Kathy. It wasn’t my desire or intention to hurt any of them. Sadly, however, I didn’t let their feelings become a factor in my decision. To me, this transaction was strictly between the Lord and myself.

As the minutes ticked away, I became obsessed with the desire to finally meet the Lord face-to-face. I wanted an interview with Him, even if it put my very soul in peril. It was time to confront Him for stealing my life away.

This was not about Kathy and me. It was about God and me.

I didn’t care if she called or not. In fact, I hoped she didn’t. This was evidenced by the fact that I decided not to wait until midnight. At eleven-forty-five, I knew the time had come to finally meet my Maker. I opened up my shirt. I knew what I was going to do. I was going to kill myself in the Japanese manner of seppuku. Not that I was an expert on the subject. I was just going to follow the general principle.

I had the knife in my left hand. I brought it to the right side of my stomach. I was going to drive it deep inside, then pull it to the left as hard as I could, essentially disemboweling myself. I had no idea whether or how much it would hurt. Nor did I consider how long it would take me to die in this manner. It didn’t matter.

I was going to see the Lord face-to-face.

I knew it was wrong. I knew I would be ashamed in His presence. But I was going to do it anyway. There was nothing to hold me in this world anymore. 

I put the tip of the blade to my stomach.

It was only at that moment that I thought for a second about how my death might affect somebody else. My little brother John was only eight-years-old at the time. On Saturday mornings, he raced downstairs to watch cartoons. I hoped my parents would beat him downstairs the next day. I didn’t want my brother to see me like this. He was too young. It would screw him up.

Still, I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

I began to press the blade downward. The tip broke the skin. I was now a heartbeat away from eternity. 

Then the phone rang.

I stopped, but I didn’t pull the blade away.

It rang again.

I cringed. I didn’t want an answered prayer. I wanted to die, but I couldn’t resist the ringing. I put the knife down and went and picked up the kitchen phone.

It was Kathy.

She was concerned, but she didn’t know why. Her first words were literally: “Sean, I don’t know why I’m calling, but I know I had to call. Is everything alright?”

I assured her everything was all right. Because it was. It wasn’t the fact that she called that made me put away the knife.

It was what she said. She didn’t know why she was calling, but she knew she had to do it. Something compelled her. Or should I say Someone. It was obvious to me that the Lord had intervened. That meant He wanted me to live. I might have thrown away the promise that gave me purpose in life, but His intervention meant He had something else in store for me. 

While I gladly give God the credit for my continued existence, I must also credit Kathy. The Lord compelled her to call. Still, she could have easily disobeyed His command the way I had disobeyed Him before the Morgantown trip, and I would have been dead at the age of twenty-two.

Thank you, Jesus.

Thank you, Kathy, too.

My relationship with her managed to linger a while longer. We talked. We traded information about summer job opportunities. I remember asking her out to see The Return of the Jedi. She said, “No, not now. Let’s wait until I get my job back at the theater. Then we can see it for free.” We never did.

One day early in June, Kathy drove over my house to return some books and a window fan I had lent her for her dorm in Morgantown. We stood on the front porch and had a serious talk. She said she wasn’t sure what the future held, but she was sure she wanted me to be her friend. I said no. For me, it was all or nothing. If she wasn’t willing to make a commitment, this was the end.

This was the first and last time I gave her an ultimatum. The results were predictable. She wouldn’t make the commitment. Angry, she turned and walked back toward her car. As she did, I asked her if she would give me a goodbye kiss. She said no.

And that was that.

The final irony, of course, was that this farewell came about a month after the Lord offered me the choice about going to Morgantown. Had I listened to Him, supposedly, everything would have come together for us now. Instead it was goodbye.

Why did I give her the ultimatum? I don’t know. I guess because I knew the relationship was doomed anyway without the blessing of the Lord. Also, I knew I was too emotionally unstable at the time to be a true friend to her. I wouldn’t be happy for her if she came to me and excitedly said she just met a great guy. No. I didn’t want to root against her relationships. Nor did I want to take a chance on seeing or feeling anything that might put that knife back in my hand.

Kathy was my best friend. The only person up to that date I had ever truly confided in. In many ways I regret my decision to turn my back on her friendship as much as, if not more so, than I regret my decision to disobey the Lord. I lost a wife. And a friend. 

I can’t blame her. Not for anything. She never lied to me. She had never promised me anything.

When I think about our relationship, it reminds me of the story of Jonah, the disobedient prophet. No, not the whale part. The part after he preached at Nineveh and the city repented. Jonah, if you remember, was extremely bitter because he didn’t want the Lord to forgive the sinful city. Here’s the story:

Jonah then left the city for a place to the east of it, where he built himself a hut and waited under it in the shade, to see what would happen to the city. Then the Lord God provided a gourd plant. And when it grew up over Jonah’s head, giving shade that relieved him of any discomfort, Jonah was greatly delighted with the plant. But the next morning at dawn God provided a worm that attacked the plant, so that it withered. And when the sun arose, God provided a scorching east wind;; and the sun beat upon Jonah’s head till he became faint. Then he wished for death, saying, “It is better for me to die than to live.”

But God said to Jonah, “Do you have a right to be angry over the gourd plant?” Jonah answered, “I have a right to be angry, angry enough to die.” Then the Lord said, “You are concerned over the gourd plant which cost you no effort and which you did not grow; it came up in one night and in one night it perished. And should I not be concerned over the great city of Nineveh?”

In many ways, my relationship with Kathy was like Jonah’s plant. It was entirely the creation of the Lord. He pointed her out to me. I would have never dated her without the encouragement of His words. He had softened her heart for me, and for three years, He used the relationship to give both of us comfort. How could I complain about Kathy when the Lord let the relationship whither because of my disobedience?

It would, however, take a long time for me to come to terms with the decisions I made and find another purpose for my life.

*****

That story takes you to the end of the second act of my book.  To get the whole book, you can click below:

Other Chapters:
Chapter 1 - A Photograph
Chapter 2 - My Death
Chapter 3 - Childhood
Chapter 4 - Saved!
Chapter 5 - The Promise
Chapter 6 - The Mission
Chapter 7 - Mission Accomplished

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