I’ve often struggled with my own mental health, but several months ago my world collided with a stranger’s struggle. I’m a cashier at a hardware store, and on April 24, 2018, at 12:24 PM, a call came over our store radio telling me to keep an eye on someone coming in our side door. Just as I turned, I noticed a young man wearing a red t-shirt, and carrying a garbage bag bursting through the door. He was bleeding from what I would soon learn was a self-inflicted stab wound to his left arm. My first reaction was to scream, before declaring that we needed to call the police. “No, no police.” He begged me before admitting words I will never forget, not in this lifetime.
“I’m suicidal, I’m going to kill myself.”
This boy asked for help. He wanted a Band-Aid, he kept telling me he was just going to go sleep. I began asking him questions, where was he going to sleep? He couldn’t answer me.
“Just give me a Band-Aid, I need to go.” He kept repeating himself, I grabbed the first aid kit and pulled out some gloves and the gauze. I asked him if I could help him, he took a deep breath, relaxed and said “yes.”
We began talking, I told him I don’t like blood and have no experience in first-aid aside from being mildly trained in CPR. He told me I was doing a good job, I told him my name and asked him his.
“Joseph.” He said, “I’m homeless.”
I asked him if he lived around here, he said no. He told me he was from a nearby reservation. I asked him how old he was. “Eighteen.” He said. I cannot describe here the look on his face, the way he answered each one of my questions with honesty, and respect. He watched me wrap a bandage around his forearm, I asked him to hold the gauze down and where he would like me to apply tape. He showed me, we worked as a team. When you’re focused so intensely on one person, the world fades away to nothing. My boss was behind me calling 911 while this was happening, it became obvious that I was meant to keep him calm and talking when the bubble around us broke open. Joseph closed himself off again, I kept looking over my shoulder, his arm was now wrapped up. You couldn’t see the cut or any blood. My work was done, while I was talking to him I had asked him why he hurt himself. He told me it was personal, not something he could talk to me about. I asked him what he used, he told me a pair of scissors he found. I must have made some sort of sound or sighed out loud because Joseph responded with guilt, attempting again to make it up to me for what he did.
“I threw them away.” He said,
I asked him to promise me he wouldn’t hurt himself again, he said: “I promise.”
When the bubble burst, fear came in and so did his realization that a store full of people was watching. He jerked his arm back and stormed out of the store, muttering and upset. I followed him, we had good timing. The cops sped up to the store, as did an ambulance and one of my best work friends in a cab. People were everywhere, I stopped chasing him. The shock was wearing off or setting in and I was suddenly in the midst of a full-on panic attack, the worst one I’d ever had. I collapsed in the parking lot, watching the cops run after and capture Joseph. I saw one of them going through his bag, he seemed to be searching for a weapon. I was brought back into the store then, people kept stopping to congratulate me on what a good job I’d done.
It didn’t feel like an accomplishment, I had to keep working although they sent me for my lunch break early because I couldn’t stop crying, shaking or talking a hundred miles a minute. In the months since the incident, I found Joseph on Facebook. He was helped by professionals and seemed happier with his life and himself although he still struggles. He came back into the store once, clean and healthy and smirking. He smiled at me and shook his head, I don’t know what he remembers of our meeting, if anything. I know I’ll never forget it because there are so many things I wish I could have done differently.
If you’re struggling, reach out. Someone out there cares about you, you matter even when you feel left out.
Trust me, you are worth asking for help.
