There was a man named Doug Sharp.
I knew him from research for my Tupac book. We spoke a few times about his different ties to the late rapper. Doug was a former actor who was trying to make ends meet, but failing. He had little money. His career flattened out. His car broke down. I usually don’t give interview subjects dough (you don’t pay people for talking), but, oh, a year after our last talk I sent him some bucks to help with car repairs. He sounded like life had him drowning and he needed … someone. Something. A moment.
Earlier this week, he sent me a suicide e-mail.
There were four of us on the chain—I didn’t know the others. The letter was seven paragraphs long, and read—in part …
The life ending act has already be ‘executed.’ A Single shot 9mm hollow point bullet to the right temple. A DO NOT RESESSICATE ORDER IS IN PLACE WITH MY PRIMARY CARE PHYSICIAN AND IN CALIFORNIA SUICIDE FALLS UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE RIGHTS OF A DNR; ADDITIONALLY I AM WEARING A DNR BRACELET AND NECKLACE.
I have journals, VHS tapes from when I did standup and a myriad of photos. I would llike to ask you and Jeff Pearlemen to share this inofration and workout the boundaries of what is wanted and what is not worth your time. Feel free to compose a story or do nothing; it’s not like I am going to find out and I understand that what I am asking steps over the bouandaries of acquaintances.
I think back to the days and years when I had a wealth of friends; howevver I was never able to feel the love. I felt unworthy and always believed the love would end; and it did.
I called 9-1-1 to report, and hope—maybe—nothing had yet happened, or Doug backed out. I was on hold for 10 minutes. Ten minutes. I ultimately hung up and forwarded LAPD the letter. Nothing happened.
Doug Sharp is gone.
This is the second time in my life someone has sent me a suicide letter. The first happened about 12 years ago; a former classmate named David Clingerman. He had a wife who loved him; a daughter who loved him. But he could no longer withstand the pain.
Life is hard. Even when people seem chipper and OK, life is hard. We all need help, positivity, reassurances, kindness, empathy.
We need one another.
Life is hard.
You are a good person. The world needs more of you-more empathy and compassion.
So true (that people matter), and such an intense experience. Thank you for trying to help.
For of your any readers who might find themself in a similar situation in the future, I suggest calling "988" instead of 911. In the US, 988 is the mental health emergency line. I checked and 988 does encourage and accept calls on behalf of someone else if you know someone in a crisis: https://988lifeline.org/help-someone-else/