Death
Most of you over the years have seen/heard me talk about my friend, Jason. From bitching because of need to vent, to exciting stuff. I've known him since I was 15.
Few years ago we moved him out here to Dallas for a fresh start. Something he couldn't get in El Paso. So he lived with us for like 2 or 3 years.
He has _always_ watched the house and dogs when we go out of town, too. He _adored_ and LOVED Tank and Chopper.
Things have been mentally rough for him lately because of a psycho female hell-bent on seriously fucking him up.
It's been bad. But between cake orders, Makerspace stuff, and our normal life stuff, I just couldn't seem to find the time to really sit and talk to him. And quite frankly, I was tired of hearing about this Gash...I mean, you can only advise a friend of the same things a million times before you get tired of having the same conversation, you know?
So I hadn't really seen or talked to him in a week.
Woke up to a phone call at 3:45am, it was the Gash, melodramatically telling me that Jason had killed himself, he was gone, and that _she_ wanted to be the one to tell me.
I didn't take it seriously at first. Took me about 20 minutes before I starting freaking out. John got up, we got dressed, and we went to Jason's apartment to check on him.
Before leaving the house I called the non emergency police line to see if such a thing had actually occurred. The lady said she'd have an officer call me back, she didn't know anything, and if she did, was not allowed to give any info over the phone.
We got to the apartment, and all the lights were on in his room, and the tv was on. You could see it through the blinds. So I _fully_ expected Jason to open the door, say hey, laugh at me for being worried about what the Gash had said, and tell me that he knew better, since just last year his childhood best friend, basically his brother, killed himself, and he wouldn't put anyone of us through that.
No one answered the door. And I was pounding...think I woke the neighbors. But no one answered his door. Not even the lady he rented his room from....
That's when my phone rang. It was Detective Holland with the local PD. He was asking me if I knew how to get ahold of his parents. I asked why he would need that, and even before I finished the sentence, I knew he needed it for notification. Jason kept his Mom's, Dad's, and my number in his head, so there was no cell phone to check. All they had was his Dad's address from an envelope he'd sent Jason at my house last week. It had been 2 hours, and EPPD still hadn't arrived at his home for notification...so he was totally blind-sided.
Come to find out, Jason didn't know, but just the night before, his Dad's mom passed away. So in less than 24 hours the man went from having a son and mother, to literally having _NO_ living family. He had been trying to get in contact with Jason, but had been unsuccessful.
No one had Jason's Mom's number, but I had her address. Couldn't find the damn number either. So I called on a friend for a very special favor...to go to his Mom's house and have her call me.
Let's just say that that notification was even worse than the phone call that started it all.
I adore both his parents, but especially his mom. His dad made me feel like I failed him, lied to him, when I told him years ago that we'd watch after Jason. It may have been my own emotions reading more into his grief than was actually there, but it made my guilt over not making time for him, that much worse.
The Gash has been notified to stay away (she's the reason he killed himself...she succeeded in her complete mind fuck and emotional obliteration), and if she didn't, she would be arrested for trespassing, and any other charges his mom and her lawyer could figure out or think of. I had a really fucked up conversation with her which I'll have to share later. Not now.
Jason killed himself in exactly the same way his best friend did last year. Hung himself from the shower head. It was 10 hours before Jason was found.
It still boggles my mind that he wouldn't have had the last minute reaction instinct for survival...all he had to do was stand up after all. The shower head was low apartment standard fare, and he was my height, maybe an inch taller. So he made a conscious choice. I don't get it.
But it was like the twilight zone when we finally got inside the apartment via the room mate. The lights in his room were on, the tv was on, clothes prepped and ready for him to go to work, tv on his beloved (which I gave him crap for all the time! *lol*) Fox News, and things as though he were just going to take a shower then go to work.
I got the _VERY_ distinct feeling it was an unplanned thing. Kind of spur-of-the-moment. I got some of his immediate personal items...watch, keys, a notebook I knew was important for the papers inside, etc. Tossed them in a bag and began the search for his wallet. Found it but not his license. I'm hoping it is with him at the Coroner's, along with the pendant he never took off that contained some of Vince's ashes. They weren't at the apartment. But then, neither was any of the money I knew he'd had on hand.
Can you guess my suspicions on the $? After all, the Gash was there. She even brought her NEW boyfriend along!!!!
But we'll see. Maybe we'll find things as we clear out the room tomorrow...yeah, get to do that, too.
I'm so angry, so sad, and then even more anger on top.
I'm also pretty cried out for the day...
So for now, adeau, and I'll write more when I'm home and on my computer a few days from now when I've had more time to process it.
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