Suicide, pt 2 in New Beginnings

I’m afraid I don’t have much if good news, if any at all. When I left off on Tuesday night, Lauren and I had a big win in that we convinced David to talk to the police and reconcile with Nate and Lindsey. I expected David would be sleeping late, but he got up at a normal time and stated typing up everything that happened so as not to overlook any specifics. I should note that I didn’t have every detail correct in my last entry, but the general story was accurate along with most of incidentals. If I write anything here that contradicts anything in my last entry, what’s here is correct (or more correct). I also may repeat myself here since I’ve been repeating myself so much by sending people text/phone updates. I also need to vent, so please bear with me.

I stayed with him that night. I was surprised he didn’t want me to leave after our exchange, but he said he didn’t think he should be alone. We didn’t quarrel. He just lay in his bed, watching some biography about Jesus moaning every 30 seconds. I didn’t quite catch what he was saying, but it sounded like “no.” It’s almost like he thought he was in a bad dream, and he was willing himself to wake up.

We couldn’t go to the FBI. State law required us to go through the local authorities, which was going to be a hassle. David was paranoid of police showing up after getting hauled off to the asylum twice by them. We didn’t want to tell him “the police were coming,” so we were careful to ask if they could send a plain clothes detective, and we referred to him as such when talking to David. The only request David asked was that they didn’t come in a marked car. Turns out that was needless fretting. Because the nature of the transaction and the amount of the money, the detective wanted us to come to the precinct to file a report.

It didn’t go over very well. Once the detective set down, he was very professional and was very assuring that he was not here to cast judgment. He was a very matter-of-fact kind of guy, which was good for not worrying about being disparaged, but lousy in terms of sugar coating any bad news. David’s version of events had some disparities from what I heard, but the biggest was that he said he had spoken with “Amy” via phone and video conversations. I’m skeptical, and I think he may have said so for the sake of saving himself embarrassment. The detective said there was 0% chance of ever getting any of his money back. I’m not familiar with cryptocurrencies, but based on what David described, the detective said the money was completely untraceable. The detective looked at the website for about 3 seconds before he said it was fake. It was called something like “coinegg,” but I couldn’t find the exact name he used. I found one called “coinegg.fun” that looks like it may be the one in question, but so much of it was in some Asian language, I couldn’t be sure. Honestly, I didn’t feel comfortable having the website on my browser; I can’t imagine setting up an account and sending money, so I that makes me think it was a different one. When the detective checked it out on David’s computer (I couldn’t see the screen), he verified that it hadn’t even existed until December 3rd, so it was created for the express purpose of scamming David. The most the detective said was that they may eventually catch this person or people, and this information would help build a case. Most likely, if David did actually have conversations with her, she was an actress hired to handle the emotional manipulation, and someone else was handling the website/financial side of things.

Surprisingly and encouragingly, David didn’t shut down then and there. He was willing to give the police his phone so they could download his interactions with these scammers. He didn’t refuse, saying there was no point. He was also willing to let them do the same with his computer, though they’d have to keep phone overnight to complete that one. He also hadn’t finished typing his record of what happened, and he said he’d need to finish it and email it to the Detective, another sign of encouragement.

He was quiet all the way back to his apartment. When we got back, Lauren and I tried to get him to come to lunch, but he wasn’t interested, nor did he want us to bring him something. When we got back, he started moaning (“My life is over,” “I can’t do this,” etc.). I understand. I’m sure having to relive that experience by telling it out loud and getting confirmation that it was gone was traumatic in its own right. It had to be done, though. Lauren said as much, but he just kept moaning. When she brought up that Nate would be over shortly, he really lost it (“Get out! Get the fuck out! Go back to your Christmas! I’m sorry I ruined everyone’s Christmas! Just leave! I don’t want to talk to Nate! I’m done with them!”

Meanwhile Lauren is arguing, “No! Rob and I can’t stay forever, and you need a support system when we leave.”

Him: “I don’t care! Leave! I’m just going to tell you whatever makes you leave. I want to be alone.”

When Nate arrived, David was lying in bed, not really responding. The way Nate interacted with him was bizarre, like he was talking to a child, almost (“Heeeey, Buddy. How are you feeling? Can I see what you’re watching on your computer?”) At that point, we knew it was time to leave. There was nothing we could say or do that wouldn’t antagonize him, so Nate went back to his place, and I went back to Lauren’s hotel room.

We were going to go to dinner, but Lauren sent David an email reading, “Please respond, so we know you’re all right. If you don’t, we’re coming over.” Obviously, we couldn’t call since the police had his phone until tomorrow. Turns out, David went and got his phone from the police. He was afraid they would see he had searched “least painful ways to kill yourself” and send him back to the institution, so he and Lauren had a long phone call. I wasn’t present to hear what was said because I was giving Marla the update elsewhere.

Once Lauren and David were finished, we called Nate and Lindsey as well as our cousin Marla for a conference call to figure our plan moving forward. Namely, should David be left alone tonight. Marla wasn’t physically there, Lindsey had to stay with her kids, Lauren couldn’t sleep on David couch because of her bad back, so Nate and I were the only options. Nate didn’t want to go based on how David had behaved, so that left me. About this time, David starts texting us, saying he didn’t think he should be alone tonight. I think he wanted Nate, but Nate wasn’t interested. I don’t think he wanted me after our tense exchange the night before. I’m never the right water temperature for David. If I ignore him, he reverts back to his bullying ways from when we were kids, but argue with him, he starts getting upset, which perhaps is another form of emotional bullying. One tap to the left and I’m too cold, one to the right and I’m too hot.

Next, he starts back pedaling, saying he doesn’t want us there, he swallowed his entire bottle of sleeping pills, and so forth. Fortunately, they don’t release you from a mental institution with any drug on which you can overdose. If he did take the entire bottle, he’d get a nasty case of vomiting and diarrhea. This is all happening during our conference call. I was willing to go, but I didn’t want to be there if I was going to antagonize him further. Finally, I told them to text, “Rob’s going to come unless you say, ‘no.’” He responded with “no,” so I slept in the hotel.

Lauren’s flight was this morning, and I’m at the airport right now. Nate and Lindsey are going to keep trying to check on him. Marla is close with him, so she’s going to try to schedule a visit for next week. We’re all going to try calling him regularly each week just so he knows we’re here for him, even if he doesn’t take our calls.

I feel conflicted. Obviously, I hurt for him. I’m actually the one who gave him his retirement plan. I showed him how if he could save up to $2 million, he could live of 2.5% ($50k/yr), and his nest egg would grow every year, increasing his purchasing power and quality of (material) life. I know what it’s like to have your dream in hand only for it to vanish. Losing that much money would be traumatic, and I can’t say that I wouldn’t be as distraught as David is right now, even if it wouldn’t manifest itself in the same way. Working through the pain would take years. I would get over losing the money much sooner than having been taken advantage of. I would have to get to a good place and be there for a couple of years before I could really say I was okay. At least, I think that’s how it’d go. I don’t want to say I could handle it; I’m wary about saying things that may guarantee an ironic fate. I’m also sure that random things would trigger some PTSD: getting a credit card bill, wanting to go out to eat and having to consider my budget, seeing someone else’s vacation pics online, someone even mentioning “cryptocurrency,” and so and so forth. I really worry about myself now. I can’t imagine myself falling for this scam, something must have overridden his reasoning. When David called Carter, he was euphoric, and Carter begged him not to pursue this. Carter explained to him what would happen and sent him articles, which David read and replied, “this is different, Carter; you gotta’ have faith.” Carter was like, “I have faith that you’re being scammed.” As I said a number of times over the past few days, emotional and psychological manipulation far outweigh intelligence, and we all have something that could manipulate us. Anyone who thinks otherwise just doesn’t know what his or her weakness may be.

That aside, I’m also frustrated with him. He hasn’t lost everything, contrary to what he says. He still has at least $500k, which is a lot more than most people. He’s not destitute. Carter said he wouldn’t have to work until he’s 80. He has a job earning $100k/year where he works from home about 3 hours a day. I’m using hyperbole on that last sentiment. He has to be online 8 hours a day, but I know he starts going through his daily beer case at about 1:00 PM. I’m not exaggerating on that one. He can also just turn on his computer from the bed and lay there unless someone messages him for something. He drives a nice car, he lives in a nice place overlooking the marina. He can put in another 13 years and retire at 60 like so many others, it’s not the worst fate in the world, and if this ordeal helps him become wiser, it can work to his advantage.

I’m being unfair. He’s still feeling very raw, and no one should reasonably expect him to get back anywhere near a positive headspace so soon. It doesn’t help that he’s not exactly a positive person to begin with. That’s part of what makes it so mind-boggling, why would he do this. He told me right before he sent the $1 million that he “just wanted to believe in something.” I’m thinking, “That’s what you’re choosing to believe in.” This is the guy who won’t pick up a bag for store brand potato chips when go comes over to his friend’s place.

That’s where I really start to lose my patience. Jimmy, the fellow he was with when he sent the $1 million, hardly has a penny to his name. He comes from money, and his mother, who’s sick, was allegedly putting money aside from him when she passed, and now that she’s gone, the executor of her estate has told him that money isn’t there and he isn’t getting anything. David’s complaining about only having $500k in front of a guy with no financial resources. Nate and Lindsey don’t have hardly anything saved up after the pandemic and moving to Naples, much less $500k. Granted, Lindsey does come from money, so she has a big inheritance awaiting them, but still. That’s another thing, Nate is David’s best friend from college. He lived in Littleton running a fly-fishing business. Lindsey had grown up there, and after David’s stroke, they moved from Colorado to Naples, across the country to an area completely different from what they’re used to with their two little boys. Talk about being rich. I don’t have any friends, not anyone I still see or talk to on a regular basis at least.

It makes me want to throttle him, and then I’m embarrassed because I can’t claim I didn’t have a dissimilar reaction when I had to give up the special agent position. Though I wasn’t as vitriolic, I definitely can’t say, “why can’t you just handle it with grace and dignity like I did” without being hypocritical. I was waiting for that to come back to haunt me. I guess it’s all the more reason I should be gracious and patient with him. He doesn’t make it easy.