Aftermath

Well it's been four weeks and almost three days since Kit died.    I'm not sure where to start writing...  My last post was about how things had been going so well.   Kit was living on his own for the past 14 months in his brother's basement doing what Kit does - smoke, eat and play video games.   He was still hearing the voices, but he said the meds were keeping them a little quieter.  He was certainly so much better than he was in December 2011 when he had his last hospital admission.  He never complained about getting his monthly shot and would call us the night before to remind us...  That was definitely a first.  His daily life was functional, not great, but he'd get up, smoke, sleep a bit more, eat spaghetti, shwarma or McD's for lunch, smoke some more, play video games or spend time on his computer.  For dinner he had fish sticks and peas.  Yup - every night.  Well of course we had him over or out for dinner at least once a week, but he seemed to be doing quite well.   Other than the fact that he said he still heard voices all the time and his delusion of living in a world that didn't exist he was easy to get along with.

But we were wrong.   I don't know what he was thinking when he jumped off the Leaside Bridge at 6 am on Saturday, March 9th.  It could have been many things...  Life is so terrible and not worth living and I'm helpless and hopeless...  or 'The Controller' has a reward for me that I get to receive upon jumping...  or maybe he was psychotic from the five or more ritalin he snorted sometime between Friday night at 8 and Saturday morning and he thought he could fly...  We'll never know, and I guess it doesn't really matter.  His psychiatrist today said maybe he felt that because it was a virtual world he didn't think anything would happen when he jumped - that it would be like Groundhog Day and he'd just wake up the next morning and it would be a new day.   I  just hope he knew we loved him which I'm sure he did.

I was with him the night before he died.   I went over to bring him his favourite book - Ender's Game - and his weekly does of Ritalin.  I had to give him extra as my daughter and I were going to go to St. Lucia on the 11th.   He was a bit shaky, but really the same as usual.   I offered him a beer, but he said no, then changed his mind and had one.   We sat upstairs with his brother and  his brother's girlfriend.  We chatted, he drank his beer, went out for a smoke and then went downstairs.  I went down after a bit and he was sitting on his bed writing in a notebook.   I told him I loved him, I'd be over tomorrow to take him out for lunch and he said he loved me too and I hugged him goodbye.  I don't think he was thinking then that we wouldn't see each other ever again.  

I do know one thing now.   He isn't hearing the voices anymore.   Nothing is tearing him up inside and telling him he is worthless anymore.  He's at peace.  Gone from this world.