“[P]eople were responding with compassion and trying to help, each in their own way. Talking to myself again, I said 'You’ve been afraid it might come to this and here it is. You only get one chance to help Topher. Don’t fuck it up.'" --Gramps
This is an exchange between Gramps and Topher originally shared here. Please read to the end.
Topher: One random 21 year old kid in Utah and one random, old-ass (he’s gonna kill me for that one) man in California. He’s absolutely spot on; he did save me and here is our story.
My old Reddit username is /u/Topher1218. Shortly after Gramps and I met, I retired the Topher account and started my current /u/YourCreepyBishop account. The nickname Topher kind of stuck and that’s what Gramps calls me now.
Gramps: Still relatively new here on Reddit, I have been lurking and posting as /u/DeltaDaze for a few months. Meeting Topher in this forum, the subsequent events of that night, and the whirlwind months since have been so remarkable, so moving, so life-changing, we both agreed we needed to share this experience with our /r/exmormon family.
Question: Obviously there’s an elephant in the room. Tell us about that night.
Gramps: “I want to kill myself” is what his post read. My heart stopped. I read on:
Topher: “I’m so done. I’m alone. No family, no friends. Leaving the cult took everyone from me and left me stripped of the dignity and respect of the closest people in my life. Fuck the cult. Oh, sure, people are going to say they care. And that they “want to talk”. Want to make things better. But ya know what, when you die, nobody but your family even remembers you after a week.”
Gramps: “No, no, no! This can’t be happening. Topher, I thought you were doing better! WTF happened?” I thought to myself. He had attempted suicide before and his tone told me he wasn’t kidding around. The discussion had already been going about an hour already and I was late! A Tapir Signal had gone up and people were responding with compassion and trying to help, each in their own way. Talking to myself again, I said “You’ve been afraid it might come to this and here it is. You only get one chance to help Topher. Don’t fuck it up.”
Adrenaline was pumping and I tried to calm my mind so I could think and process as I read my way through his post, the comments and replies. What is going on here? I read through them all again. People were showing tremendous compassion and giving good advice and telling him that things would get better; they always eventually get better. Why aren’t these good people reaching him? His responses were mostly dismissive or borderline unresponsive; he was short and abrupt. People seemed to be saying all the right things but they weren’t getting through. I read through it all one more time and then I jumped in. I took the elements from his post and the replies and fixed on the elements that were tormenting him and started talking to him specifically about each one.
Gramps: “Topher, it sounds like you’ve hit rock bottom. I know you’re sick of faking it, and you’ve been abandoned. It hurts like a mother fucker. There is a way out of this swamp. We need to get you somewhere you can breathe fresh air… non-mormon air. There are other possibilities… you just can’t see them right now. Please talk to me.”
Topher: “Hey Gramps. I don’t know why, but fuck, I broke down reading your message. You’re right, I need to get my head above water.”
Gramps: “So good to hear from you. Fuck. Wish so badly I could take your pain away. You don’t deserve this. We will get through this. PM me…”
Gramps: Under Reddit private messaging, the dialogue continued. I told him it fucking sucks being abandoned by the very people that are supposed to have his back. I told him I knew suicide and that it had nearly claimed me as a teen. He started talking more and venting. He already had my phone number and email and I told him he could reach me day or night no matter what. We communicated for what seemed like a few hours. He was still very dark, angry and hurt. I listened; I commiserated; I told him we were in this together. And then he went silent. Terrified, I gripped my phone and stared at it for another hour; no “bling” of an incoming message. He didn’t respond to my continued messages and it was obvious he was done. With the absence of phone communication, I channeled him directly with my brain and soul; I focused all my energy on reaching him: “Topher, if you can hear me, I’m holding you close right now. Can you feel my love? Let my love comfort and heal you. Let it wrap you up and keep you warm. I’m here and I will keep you safe.” I sobbed and paced the floor the remainder of that sleepless night. Had I reached him? Had I done any good at all? I didn’t know...
Topher: Had I known the anxiety that my sudden lack of communication was causing, I would’ve been right back on the phone. But I could only think about myself. I was so tired, so done. All the pain of losing my parents to their religion was overtaking me. I couldn’t think straight. I was in fight or flight mode; and I was done fighting. The primal need for relief was eating my soul. What I’ve never told Gramps is that I went up the mountain that night, wrote a note to my immediate family, along with a note to Gramps, and swallowed some pills, washing it down with burning gulps of liquor. What nobody knows until now, is that I stepped off the precipice. And the scary thing is, I felt relief. I wasn’t going to wake up for another painful day. I was free.
Gramps: The pain of knowing what I didn’t know about that night… it’s crushing my heart. All I can do is sit here and sob. I fucking failed.
Topher: Gramps didn’t fail. Almost immediately after feeling relief, reality set in. I was going to die. And leave behind people that were just trying to help me. Death wasn’t going to bring relief, letting someone into my life to help me was. I forced myself to throw up time after time, until I was sure everything was out of my stomach. Gramps will someday come to peace with the fact that he did, in fact, save my life. It may have not been a “in the nick of time” movie moment, but life isn’t Disney. I owe my life to Gramps.
Checkout Part II here.
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