Max’s Story

Hello, my name is Zach. I stumbled upon this site and I figured I would post my story here as well, hopefully It may help someone. So anyways, this story is about my step brother Max. Max was a wonderful and caring boy, he had a deep passion for art and liked to skateboard with his friends at the local skatepark. Seemed like the perfect kid right? But the sad truth is, much like many young people in america, he suffered from major depression. To my knowledge he was not bullied or anything in high school, His parents got divorced but it seemed to be a easy one. Anyway’s, he loved to participate in usual teenage antics. For instance, We live near two streets, Prentice and one that begins with an “S” (I don’t want to disclose that much info online). So he took off the “R”,”T” and “C” from PRENTICE and the “S” off of the other street and put it on the end, resulting in the street being renamed as “PENIS”. Of course it was eventually changed back but it was very funny. But his true love was art.He has such beautiful paintings! It was an outlet for him. In our basement, there is an area where its a room about 9×16 which became a studio to him. He has spray-painted art all over the walls. A wonderful sight indeed.

Once he finished High School, He went off to college. To my knowledge he was doing great, But one day, he was caught graffitiing in a public place. He was put in jail time for doing what he loved. His friend posted his side of the story (http://www.woostercollective.com/post/taking-a-moment-to-pause-and-take-stock-in-life) The page also shows a beautiful video about his life. I shall share from his perspective what happened from there:

“Max was arrested and charged with Vandalism by Graffiti in August, 2006 and again in November of the same year, in Boston, MA…. Sadly, Max was becoming more and more overwhelmed by the society in which he lived. When he was arrested the second time for writing graf, the boston cops roughed him up a bit, calling him a ******, asking him what he was doing writing on walls that werent his, and confiscated his shoes and pants, leaving him in jail for the night in just his underwear, and he appeared in court the next morning in the same state of undress. Max thought that no one would appreciate his art, that the world was a horrible place full of ignorant, unnappreciative people, and 3 weeks ago, he hung himself at his home in Armunk, New York.”

He died on December 16th, 2006.

What I haven’t mentioned before is that his mother and my father were both in the restaurant business. They were both seasonal restaurants due to the majority of people only living in the area for the summer . These restaurants are both located on long island, resulting in her only coming out for the summer. In fact, they were located right next to each other. Our restaurant opened way back in 1996 while her’s opened in 2004-2005 I believe. My dad, being the person he is, helped her with starting up the restaurant. You would think the would be rivals right? But the thing was were we attracting two very different crowds. My families was family oriented while heres was an adult cuisine/bar type restaurant. So in other words it all worked out fine.

Everything changed though after Max died.  She sold her house in Armunk and bought a new house in a different town and sold her restaurant. But she didn’t leave long island yet, my dad offered he the manager position at his restaurant which she accepted.

Now Eight years has passed, My dad and my step mom got married in October of 2013. At the wedding while the vows were being said, we had a ceremony where each of us poured jars of sand into a big container to symbolize us all coming together as a family. I, my sister, brother and father poured ours in first. Then my step mom and step sister, but there was one left, the one for Max. We each helped in pouring his sand in the family jar, completing the ceremonial family jar. I must admit I was crying the entire time, a memory that will stick with me the rest of my life.

Now, the reason I am righting this story to you. After eight years of living with my step mom and seeing my step sister, I have come to see that there is something missing in them. When Max died, like many family members and friends of someone who has taken their life, Their lives forever changed. My step mom lost her baby who she spent all his life nurturing, protecting and loving. He was ripped away from them, they will never see him again.

I have learned over the years to become very sensitive to their emotions. For instance, One day I was watching an episode of South Park in the living room with my sister and step mom. But then one of the characters attempted to hang themselves, I was mortified! I quickly grabbed the remote and turned off the TV repeating over and over to my step mom that I am so sorry, she said it was fine and thanked me for being sensitive but even till now I feel so guilty. Now I watch most of my shows alone in my room just in case.

Now before I make a closing statement, I would like to share one last story. About three days after the marriage, we were looking through my step sisters old Bat Mitzvah tapes from 1999.We skimmed through the ceremony but we clearly saw my step sister talking with the many rabbi’s and Max sitting near by holding the Torah, he was only eleven at that time. Then the footage switched to the after party which seemed to have been taking place in a chuckie cheese like place, It showed all of her friends there having a good time. The tape switched again and it showed Max sitting in a chair. You can hear my step moms voice off screen saying something like “Say something for [step sisters name]”, he looked a little shy at first and crinkled his forehead a little. Kinda like what my younger brother does when he’s shy. He then says “I love you [her name]!”. At that moment, we all turned back to look at my step sister. She was crying tears of happiness, It was one of the most beautiful and heartwarming things I have ever seen.

After all I have experienced, I would like to tell you, the members of this site. That even though you feel helpless, you will always make it through to see a better day. If you make the same mistake Max made, imagine what your family and friends would feel. They would feel sadness, confusion and an overwhelming sense of loss. Do you honestly want the ones you love to feel like that for the rest of their lives? Believe me, I’ve been in your shoes. I too suffer from depression and have had suicidal thoughts more often than I would like to think, but whenever I feel like I should go ahead and end it all. I go down to Max’s art room, on the wall it reads “Think happy thoughts” and “Don’t worry be happy” It makes me realize that I can’t do the same thing. People need to appreciate what he gave to the world, and believe me I do . I also think about my step mom and all she’s been through, I would hate to see my loved ones in so much pain. And no matter what you think, somebody loves you, cares about you and wants to help you. I love you. If you ever need to talk to someone, about anything, send me a message and I will help you the best I possibly can. But if you are in need of serious help call 1800-suicide. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.