Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

The roommate

In the last post I mentioned chasing after a naked man running in the streets. That man, unfortunately, was my roommate.

I wish this were a funny story, but it isn't. John, my roommate, tried to kill himself this week.

It's hard to make sense of all this and I struggle to put down my thoughts into words. Still I want to try.

John is a good guy. He was about what you'd expect from an 18-year-old just starting college. When I first met him back in September, he was beaming with optimism. He talked excitedly about one day becoming a diplomat and he admired at how pretty the girls in his homeland of Korea were.

Later on I learned that he loved to sing, especially Michael Jackson, though he was not quite good at it. (Imagine someone on the verge of tears while singing "You are not alone," their face totally in anguish. Oh man...)

Once he threw shaving cream on his face and pretended to act like the Joker from Batman, just for my amusement. It was hilarious.

He shared his candy with me, gave me a seat cushion as a gift, and reminded me of a younger more idealistic version of myself. I remember feeling lucky to have a good roommate.

But things gradually changed as the semester went on. After mid-terms had come and gone, John had told me he was afraid he might fail a couple of his classes. He was still optimistic, smiling and saying that his classmates would help him with his work. But his cheery attitude began to wane and he seemed withdrawn. Much of the singing began to stop. And in its stead, John had begun talking to himself.

These were not just short bursts of inner dialogue. But long conversations as if he were talking to an invisible friend. He spoke to himself all in Korean, so I had no idea what he said to himself. But I was concerned and asked him on several occasions why he was talking to himself. "I'm okay," he said in response. "You don't have to call the doctors," he joked.

At another time, I remember asking him once again. He gave me the same response, but this time with more annoyance. "Don't worry," he said as if trying to avoid me. Then he immediately switched back into Korean and starting talking to himself again.

I let it slide, thinking he was just stressed out and needed to sort out his thoughts. I asked my classmates what they thought. Instead, we joked about it.

By then I had started to care less about John, my own life already overwhelmed with work, and so I decided to just let him be. This is Tsinghua University after all, one of the best schools in China. John had a lot of studying to do and I didn't want to disturb him too much.

Earlier this week, with finals coming, I could tell John was depressed. Although he had started talking to himself less, it had also seemed like the soul had been sucked out of him. Most of the time I saw him planted at his desk, his entire life devoted toward his studies. But he was growing more and more worried about passing his tests. Still, I didn't know what was going on with him exactly. When I asked how he was doing, he'd say something like, "not good," and leave it at that.

On Tuesday, he grew desperate and for the first time asked me to help him with his math homework. I looked at the assignment, and had no idea how to even go about it. "Your not going to help me?" John later pleaded.

I told him he needed to relax more. To help him, we had planned on going swimming later in the week. I was also going to take him to party my classmates were holding on Friday. Some fun would hopefully lift his spirits I told him. But in my head I complained: "This is the last thing I need. I'm so busy. Why can't he just take care of himself?"

On Wednesday I came back to the dorm a half past noon. John was studying at his desk. I asked him how he was doing. He didn't really respond. I let him be. But soon after, he opened our room's window. Then he jumped up on top of the ledge.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I thought to myself. I came up right behind him, ready to pull him away. But thankfully he climbed back down himself. He closed the window and turned to me. I came up with some light-hearted chit-chat to see if he was okay. John just glared at me, his face completely emotionless. Then he suddenly looked as if he began to cry. He came up to me for a hug, and so I put his arms around him, telling him things would be fine and to relax.

I told him to sit down on his bed, but he refused. Instead he spoke.

"Michael, please kill me."

After he spoke those words, I scrambled to look for the right phone number to call, while trying to make sure my roommate wouldn't do anything dangerous. But once I found the right number, I was reluctant to dial the number, afraid that John might freak out. At the same time, in the back of my head, I thought: "Why is this happening to me? Do I really have to go through this?"

It didn't matter what I wanted. As I tried to figure out what to do, John slowly exited the dorm room into the hallway. He pulled off his shirt. And then began taking off his pants and underwear. I grabbed him and pulled him back into the room."What the hell are you doing?" I yelled.

He then proceeded to take off all his clothes, until he was naked with his shoes and socks gone. John stared at me hard, moving himself closer to the door. I stood in his way.

"Michael let me do this. Don't stop me," he said.

"No John, what the fuck are you doing?" I yelled.

He tried to run past me to get out the door. I grabbed him, pulling him back into the room. We pushed and shoved at one another. Then John punched me in the face. With me off to the side, he ran out the door naked, heading down the stairs. He looked mad, determined to do whatever it is he wanted to do. I followed, wearing only my flip-flops, trying to keep up and hoping to God this would not end badly.

"Help me!" I yelled throughout the stairways as I chased him down. There was no one in sight.

We then came down the first floor into the lobby, John running right out the door. I was not far behind, seeing two school security guards outside, who were in the path of John. "Stop him!" I told them in Chinese. "He wants to kill himself."

The security guards tried to block him. One of them even attempted to tackle him down. But John was just too fast, and too uncontrollable, squirming out of grasp, and getting past the two guards. My roommate then headed out to the streets, looking like a feral animal who had just escaped. We chased after him, running on the road as cars in both directions passed by.

John circled around the area, trying to avoid capture and maneuvering past cars, as we closed in on him. Eventually we had him cornered and tackled him to the ground, pulling on his arms and pinning him down on the snow. Still, he was strong, and in a complete rage. "I want to die," he yelled as we grabbed at him.  "Do you have a gun," he asked the security guards. "Give it to me. I don't want to live."

More guards eventually came, and we finally had him restrained. "Think about your mom," one of the guards said as he tried to calm him down. "What about your sisters. Don't give up your life." John was then taken into a van, where he was transported back to the university. After putting his clothes back on, the school had him taken to an office where teachers, students and I tried to speak with him. He had calmed down at this point. But for much of the time he only wanted to stare out a nearby window in the room we held him in.

We speculated on what could have made him this way. "He was really worried about school," I told the teachers. "I think he had just too much pressure."

After that I had to spend the next day and half watching over him. His mother was on the way from Korea, but in the meantime I, along with a few students and teachers, had to make sure he didn't do anything dangerous. It was hard. John had not only become suicidal, but it seemed he had developed mental problems. He'd easily forget situations that just happened, and then ramble on about nonsensical things. One moment he'd be calm, in the next he'd try to run from us, by even kicking and shoving. "You don't trust me Michael," he said to me "Why don't you trust me?" I didn't get much sleep that night.

On Thursday I thought he was getting better. He was speaking more and opening up toward me. He told me that he felt weak and that he was afraid of being a failure. In response, I told him so much about how good of a person he was, and not to give up, and that he was just facing a difficult period in his life. It seemed like he understood, nodding and even smiling at a few points. But in the end, all my wisdom and experiences couldn't convince him that things would be all right.  In the afternoon, John tried to escape the dorms again. I chased him down the stairs and tackled him onto a sofa in the dorm's lobby. "Goddamit John!" I yelled. "Shut the fuck up!" I had just about had enough.

Teachers and students came to help restrain him. Still John wanted out, and tried break away again. Finally we were able to put him in an empty dorm room. The teachers then immediately decided it would be best that he'd be put in hospital. But as that happened, John decided to go suicidal again, wanting to throw himself out the dorm room's window. Thankfully, we were able to pull him back, and confine him to a more secure room.

By the end of Thursday afternoon, John was on his way to a local hospital, where his mom was waiting. I was burnt out, the past two days a nightmare. I limped back to my dorm room, my legs and arms sore from having to chase down and grab my roommate so many times. At night, I thanked God that John wasn't able to hurt himself.

In the day after I tried to make sense of things. Could I have done more to help my roommate?

John is 18 and I'm 25. So there's been times where I've felt like I've acted more like a big brother to him. I remember once I gave him some tips on how to meet girls, even pressuring him to give a classmate he liked a box of chocolate. He reluctantly did so.

I've also thought back to my own college experiences when I was just a freshman. I remember I was quite lonely during that time, with really no friends. Later I became depressed, feeling like a victim of my own shyness.

John's struggles seemed to parallel my own, only except that I eventually overcame mine. I wasn't sure what would happen to John. All I could think was that my roommate had really gone crazy. In no way could he come back to school, at least not any time soon.

This morning I woke up thinking, "I don't really want to see my roommate again." I had already felt pretty drained, and the  sight of him would probably just stress me out even more.  Frankly, I didn't think I would feel safe being around him again, considering his mental instability.

"Really, there's nothing else I can do for him, and he's not my responsibility," I thought.

In spite of this, my roommate came by the dorm room with his mom today. John was subdued and quiet,  a sad glance hanging on to his face. He walked in slow, and sat down in the bed, looking wounded.

I could tell he felt guilty for all the trouble he caused me. But seeing him again, reminded me of who John really is: a good guy who just went through a hard time. I smiled trying to lighten up the mood, though I could hardly think of anything to say.

He told me he would be leaving back for Korea tomorrow and that he'd be packing up his stuff soon. I told him that was good, since he'll be able to rest. We exchanged numbers and emails, and he told me that I should come and visit him in Korea.

"Michael, I think this is the last time," John said, in reference to how he was leaving China.

"It's okay," I replied. "We can still keep in contact."

He paused for a moment, looking at me as if he wanted to apologize. John then smiled.

"You saved my ass," he said.

After a hug, John then left saying he would come by again to pick up his belongings.

It's been a long week for me. I hope to get my routine back to normal soon; in the last few days I've had to drop everything I was doing and so I have plenty of catching up to do.

I'm happy to say though, that I think John will be fine. I don't know if or when he'll come back to China, but I get the feeling he'll be back to normal eventually, and if anything he'll be stronger from this experience. He was a good roommate and I wish him the best.

Anyways, this post has little to do with China. But it certainly will be one of the most memorable experiences I've had here, even though part of me wishes I could just forget it.

The year has just started and I'm exhausted. Onward we go! Right after I take a long nap.