I was telling my son how I had been putting out fires all morning long. My phone was ringing off the hook. Everyone was calling me for advice. I finally had a chance to hop in the shower when my best friend called. I asked if I could call her back when I got out. I wrapped a towel around me, called her back, and then I heard an unfamiliar voice calling my name. I peeked out and saw one of my older son’s old friends standing in my bedroom. I was home alone. He immediately started apologizing for walking into my house and entering my bedroom.

The last time that I saw him was about six years ago. They were childhood friends but their relationship dissolved during high school. He had a difficult childhood. His mother was an alcoholic and drug addict. I used to pick him up for school and drive him to football practice almost every day. We even brought him along on our family vacations, but he started becoming jealous, competitive, and angry. 

He joined the Marines right out high school. My younger son talked to him about joining before he entered. They kept in touch but my older son didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. He reenlisted because he couldn’t find a job. He was a police cadet throughout high school, and quite a few people in our community took him under their wing, but when there was a job opening, the police chief chose one of his friend’s sons instead of hiring him. That’s when he reupped but the second time he went for infantry. He wanted to be deployed. When it was all said and done, he had PTSD and was drinking a lot. He was suicidal and reaching out to everyone for help. His facebook page is filled with pleas. My younger son said that he was leaving town to live with his older brother and that he wanted to come by to tell me goodbye but I wasn’t available at the time.

I told him to let me put some cloths on and that I’d be right out. I thought that he was just back for a visit but when I asked how he was doing, he didn’t respond. I asked him what was wrong. He started crying and said that he just wanted to tell me goodbye. Apparently, the living arrangement with this brother didn’t work out. He was really drunk and said that he was tired of struggling and just wanted to end it. He said that he didn’t have the support and wasn’t one of the lucky ones like my boys. His phone started ringing off the hook because he had called almost everyone that he knows to tell them goodbye. I grabbed his phone out of his hand when I heard his mother’s voice. I told her that he was with me and that I would make sure that he didn’t leave. She said that he might have his gun on him and that he can get aggressive when he’s drinking. He had two DUI’s, was driving on a suspended driver’s license, and his wife had left him. One of his cousins called the cops and they called his phone. I gave him the phone and while he was distracted by the police, I texted my son, who was at the gym. My husband was out of town.

Quote:Me: Can you come home? So and so is here. He’s drunk and suicidal. He needs you. His mother doesn’t know if he has his gun on him or not but we need to get his keys away from him.
My son: On my way. Do I need my gun?
Me: Not sure.
My son: 5 minutes out.

He tried to leave when I told him that my son was on his way. We got into a little scuffle. I put him into a choke hold and he tried to flip me. I sprained my toe. It’s black and blue. I let him go when I got the keys and he said, "WTF? I’ll kick your ass." I said, "Why, you said you wanted to die anyway."

My son walked in and told him to be careful with me. He hugged him and swept his back to check for a pistol. I made him sit on the couch and brought him some water. His phone started ringing off the hook again. I answered it and this time it was a lieutenant major. I guess the night before, he had tried every avenue available to veterans and couldn’t get the help that he needed. He was pissed off about it. He said that they’re always preaching about how they’re there to help vets but it’s all bullshit. He called and reported everyone that he had dealt with. The conversations were recorded and someone on staff was in hot water because of the way that they handled it. That’s what the major was calling about. He grabbed the phone from me and hung up on him.

He handed the phone back to me when the police called back and wanted to know my address. I told them that I would call them back after I had a chance to talk to him for a bit. I didn’t want him to be 51-50d because I know how poorly our mental health facilities are ran. I also wanted him to sober up before they arrived.

He volunteered to see a crisis counselor at the hospital and my son and I drove his car to his mothers.

My toe is bruised, I’m discombobulated, but more importantly, my heart strings are torn. My family wants me to stay out of it but I overheard him tell someone on the phone that I was like a second mother to him.

He got an 80% disability retirement from the military but that’s not enough to live on. He had to move back in with his mother, who also has a drinking problem and suffers from depression. I want to help him get a higher VA percentage rating and the help that he deserves but everyone is saying that he has to stop drinking before anyone can help him. The system is, not only complicated, but discouraging, as well. How in the hell can we expect people who are suffering from mental health issues to navigate our broken mental health care system on their own? Encouraging someone to get help but having help available is a whole other ballgame.

He fought and was deployed to fifteen different countries. I wouldn’t describe this little millennial as a snowflake.