In June of 2001, I hospitalized Mike because he was so dysfunctional and showed suicidal tendencies. It was really a good thing in the end and Mike learned a lot. This time I just didn't see it coming. I saw signs of things but never in a million years did I think he would follow through with taking his own life. Back in 2001 when I took him to University of Washington Emergency Center, they asked him if he ever felt suicidal and what he would do if he decided to end his life. He said that he would overdose on his insulin. This was a shock to me because there was nothing I could do about it. He had to have it. I couldn't take away his "weapon" of choice because it also kept him alive.
This time when I felt he was going down hill, I talked to him about it. He said he was losing hope. I kept giving him reasons not to lose hope. Living alone in Redmond during the week didn't help matters. On numerous occasions I would call a close friend of his and have them check on Mike.
In May we were taking a trip back east to pick up our son. I felt like I was trying to get a toddler on a plane; he was so despondent. As we left behind our lives and started visiting new places he perked up and seemed to be enjoying himself. When I asked him how he was, he would say, "not very good." He could hide his pain so well. His obsession at Niagara Falls about how many deaths a year took place there was a bit unnerving. When we arrived back home he was surrounded by family and seemed much happier, but to him the weight of the world was on his shoulders. How would he ever get caught up on his work load? How would he ever get the Redmond house ready to sell? How would he ever make life for his family better? How could he ever make his wife happy? OUCH but those were some of the thoughts running through his head. He felt he was disappointing so many people.