Yes, very messy indeed! I was 17 when my grandmother killed herself, and I felt so much self-centered guilt at that age. When I was little I was her “Partner in Crime” so speak, she took me everywhere and doted on me as her baby doll mascot. I was in places with her a small child had no business being, hotels, bars, in jail…yes…long story. However, she was a raving beauty and had a huge personality and everyone flocked to her, especially men. I didn’t put all of this together until some years later when I was in college and learned about things like bipolar disorder, addiction, alcoholism, nymphomania. A light bulb went off over my head.
So when she killed herself, I thought she did it because I was reaching the age where I wanted to do things with my own friends, etc…I now know it was about way more than me and my silly teenage stuff, but I selfishly related it all to myself at the time.
She shot herself. Unusual for a woman. My theory is that she did that because she was addicted to narcotics and had a huge tolerance for the pills and alcohol. There are stories of her drinking 250 lb men under the table and shutting down supper clubs, dancing on tables. I have also learned that her being a natural redhead had something to do with that high tolerance as well. She had enough pills in that house that day to take out prolly10 people. 10 normal people. She knew it wasn’t enough to kill her, so she resorted to a gun to the chest. I also think she chose her chest because she was very vain and didn’t want to mess up her face, which was perfectly made up, btw. Her nails were polished, her hair was freshly coiffed, and she was wearing her most expensive penior set. She had prepared her own body, she wanted to leave a good-looking corpse. She wasn’t found for almost 2 days. There wasn’t anything weak sauced about it, she meant this shit. No taking a handful of pills and calling the operator, screw that. This was done in the secret quiet, no public displays.
So even given all of this, as I said above, my Uncle would rather believe she was murdered by some unknown phantom assailant that broke in her house (there were no signs of a break in) and have her be the victim of an unsolved crime than to accept she just gave up on living.
She did it in February, and that Christmas before she the most bubbly and vivacious as anyone had seen her in a long time. She was full of giant hugs and kisses all around. I think she had already made her plans and was having a last hurrah. So even if one of us had called her or went by her house that particular day in February, we might have stopped her from doing it that day, but she would have done it another day. Once a person has made up their mind and talked themselves into that space, there is no talking them off the ledge.
I am not angry at her for leaving me anymore, but it took alot of years. I am now a few years older than she was when she ended her life, and I have much more understanding now about how she might have been feeling. It is very difficult for a woman of sound mind to accept in your 50s, that you are no longer “that girl” who turns all the heads and can hold the attention of everyone in the room, so I imagine when you add mental illness, addictions, and a big basket of regrets to that, the crash landing must be pretty hard.
Doesn’t change the fact that the ripple effect has been devastating, though.
Sorry for the length of this post.