I haven’t written in a few days. The day I didn’t write was July 2, 2015. I didn’t write that day because I didn’t know
what to say. You see that Thursday was
the 2 year anniversary of my friend, Jane, putting a gun into her mouth and
pulling the trigger. I shared in the
noon meeting about it and got trembly and teary as I felt once again that there was a plug
of guilt on my part. That I could have
done some things differently and maybe history would have been changed. I knew she was addicted to pain killers but I
didn’t know the extant of the booze she was drinking until one day at the Primary
Purpose AA meeting. They were giving out
chips for birthdays and I picked up a chip for 9 months. Then I heard a voice coming from back of the
room, “Christopher Shirley. Christopher
Shirley is a mother fucker. Christopher. Christopher Shirley, you are a mother fucker.”
“Thanks Jane it’s nice to see you too!” I sat down gripping
the chip in my hand knowing it was tenuous as was Jane’s addiction. I don’t know if I even had a true nine months
anyway so we were both in there under false pretenses. At least Jane was being honest. I didn’t know how drunk she was until after
the meeting when she was laying down in the hall outside and after the meeting
howling. I was disgusted and walked
away. Here was a friend of 28 years and
I was ignoring her like a homeless drunk on the street. Where was my compassion? I guess I was being resentful of the name
calling during the meeting. Part of it
was my girlfriend at the time, Julie, thought it was inappropriate for me to talk
to a woman over the phone who was drunk.
She didn’t understand how we support each other in AA. But truly, a woman calls a woman and a man
calls a man. I tried to impress that
upon Jane but she didn’t trust any women at the time and wanted to talk to
me. I just couldn’t. I had reached out prior but she wasn’t ready
and just wanted to borrow money. I was
never good at being a sponsor in AA anyway and Jane was too close for me to act
as one. She was down and out and I had
pity for her. But also powerlessness in
a profound way.
We can help people that want help. I wasn’t convinced that Jane wanted help,
more of a drunken conversation when she did call. I would tell her sternly that I couldn’t talk
to her in that condition and she would get upset. But no matter what, at the end of each
conversation she would say, “I love you Chrissy. Do you love me too?” in her cute puppy dog
way. It was her thing and I kind of took
it for granted. Of course I always told
her I loved her. And I did in my own
way. Just as long as you’re not crashing
my high of course. I have a lot of self-centeredness
that I have to work on. But Jane was
Jane. She was always full of a unique
energy that was all her own. She was
enthusiastic about everyone she met. She
loved the arts, music, painting, poetry anything that was creative and
especially if she knew the artist. She
would love my writing if she were able to see it. She would encourage me to put
it in a book and help me find a publisher.
I loved her for that.
She did get lost at the end.
But I never thought it would come to suicide. She suffered from bipolar as well. I fucking hate that disease and that feeling grew
worse with Jane’s suicide. I’ve known
several people in the past few decades that have suicided out as a result of
mental illness. But none in my personal
circle as Jane. I remember Jane before
she got into AA and as a result of her friendship with my first wife, Andrea,
she decided to try AA. I saw her pick up
her 20 year chip so I knew her for a long time.
She’d gotten married, moved to GA and we stayed in touch the entire
time. She almost always had time for depression and it was a hard battle
for her to shake. Death of friends were
something that she could not give up grieving over. The anniversaries of their deaths would spur
a phone call to me to talk about it. It
was hard to talk to her as I always wanted to fix her feelings. I didn’t realize it was enough just to answer
the phone and be a friend to talk to about it.
I was always attracted to her, even when I was married. I kept those feelings in a box though. I did admit to Andrea once about my sexual
feelings about Jane. I learned a lot
about honesty and diplomacy with that incident.
But that’s how it was between us.
A love/like/hate relationship. No
matter what the circumstances were, she always told Chrissy that she loved him
and I always responded in like. There
was even a moment when we were lovers and I got to gloriously gush my flood of
fantasy into her and I was not disappointed.
We were just too good as friends that we knew we would screw that up so
we stayed apart on that level. I knew
her mom, her sister, her dad, her dad’s wife so I was a part of her life as a
good friend should be.
I’ll never know her as an old woman and she would have been
a darling to anyone that was within her reach.
Ahh Jane, I miss you so much. Of
course I would have done more if I’d
known how it was going to end with you.
I think about you so much and sometimes I think you’re still here
hanging around. Your spirit will always
be with me, I know that. Chrissy will always love you.
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