Tyler Weatherup’s parents had great plans for his future. Trouble is, those plans weren’t quite what he had in mind for himself.
And that may be where his story begins. He prays that they will be part of his happy ending, and see how he has succeeded in putting behind him an ugly and unhappy episode of his life.
Weatherup’s young and handsome face, framed by a crop of neatly-trimmed dark hair, betrays nothing of his past which unravelled with lightning speed when he let go of everything that he had held dear, and took him to a point that became, with meticulous planning, the place to die.
His life, woven around manipulation, charm and deceit, had been built on quicksand.
Death, at 24, would end the charade.
Much of his recollection of his journey to the edge is culled from those around him and his sketchy memory.
“I was an absolutely disaster,” he said.
“I didn’t know how to manage my life, and I didn’t know anything was wrong until the 11th hour. My friends and family said that I had a great job, post secondary education, and wonderful relationships. I was the whole-package deal.”
He hid well his lack of confidence and will power, so that when he was exposed to the social aspect of college life, there was nothing to hold him back.
He didn’t know when to stop drinking, and it wasn’t long before substance abuse escalated, and controlled everything he did.
He became dependent on drugs and alcohol, and trying to meet the expectations of his family and friends evaporated.
“My family had great plans for me but they were not my plans. I went along with it for a long time. I always pleased them. But as I grew up, I found out that I was disappointing them. And then as I turned to a life of irresponsibility, I lost grasp of everything.
“My life was like a house of cards, and when the wind came everything fell on me.”
The crash came in February, 2010.
His New Year’s resolution had been to quit his job and live off his savings until he found a new career.
The timing was lousy.
As his bank balance dwindled, his debts mounted.
He couldn’t pay down his line of credit, and was unable to pay the loan on his car. His parents had co-signed the loan. He lost the car, and the relationship with his folks took another beating.
He had got away with lying for so long, but this was the last straw.
“They weren’t willing to help me because they didn’t have my respect.”
Weatherup turned to a family member and her fiance.
“I figured they were the only people left who would take me in.”
He, a couple of suitcases of his possessions and the clothes he wore, moved in.
Already worn out, he had not anticipated how living with opiate addicts would siphon off the last bit of strength.
“I don’t think that anybody has the energy to live with addicts.”
•••
The fog that had been moving closer and closer began to sock him in tightly.
He plunged into a deep depression. When the family member and her fiance could no longer pay the rent, they were evicted.
Weatherup came home at 11 p.m. one night, and found the locks had been changed. He was homeless.
Unknown to him, it was the best thing that could have happened.
He had too much shame and guilt to ask anyone else to help, so he spent that night in the alcove of the apartment building’s underground parking entrance. It was raining. He slept.
He work up in a puddle of water, soaked, miserable, and more desperate than he had ever been in his life.
There was nowhere to go, and he was long past the time of clear thinking, even for one who excelled at math.
“I couldn’t figure my way out of this one.”
Family, money, his sense of self-worth long gone, there was nothing left, except the ability to plan his own end.
“I was going to take my own life the next day. I was planning to take the bus to the Golden Ears Bridge, but I was too tired to carry it out.”
On Monday, he went to the welfare office for money. They said no, but gave advice that saved his life: Go to the Gateway Shelter, the home for the homeless.
When he got there, he was told there was no room.
“Come back tomorrow night,” he was told.
“So there I was, no money, no food, only the clothes on my back. It was raining. And it was the darkest time of my life.”
As he walked to the Gateway shelter the next day, he told himself: “If there’s no room, that’s it. I’m too tired.”
The thought that the end was near was liberating.
“To have that thought — death by suicide — was almost a warm sensation.”
As he was about to open the shelter door, a man was leaving, freeing a bed for him.
“I came at the right time. I can go for the rest of my life knowing that this place saved my life.”
Other than being homeless, there are no prerequisites for being at Gateway. Once inside, there are responsibilities to fulfill. One of the most challenging is weekly counseling sessions which require him to bare his soul.
“It was difficult. I had to break myself down and build myself up from the ground up.”
It got him to the core of his problems, to the point where the depression eased and the thinking became clearer and he was able to face his demons.
He has almost reached the point in his recovery when he can face his parents, present a new Tyler, an invigorated and genuine son who has dropped the charade, and be the son they brought into this world.
“They want me to ‘show them,’” Weatherup said.
“It took a long time for me to screw up my life, and it’s going to take time to right my wrongs.
“I caused a lot of people a lot of hurt, but sometimes only time will ease the hurting. That’s enough for me to move forward.”
His parents imparted to their children the belief that actions speak louder than words.
“So now it’s time for me to take what I’ve learned in the past year and apply it to my life. I hope that that will re-establish their trust in me.”
•••
Weatherup appreciates the irony. For several years he has dreamed about working in banking, perhaps in middle management where he would handle millions of dollars of other people’s money.
But he couldn’t handle his own, and as a result, his credit rating is so poor that no bank will hire him.
Only one, Envision Financial, gave him a chance, offering him the opportunity to job shadow at the company’s head office in Langley.
“I really, really liked it,” he said. “Looking for work is a struggle, but Envision was so encouraging.”
Envision didn’t jump to conclusions, but Doug Hawley, who manages Redwoods Golf Club, did — and all for the right reasons.
Hawley was at the dinner which wrapped up the Gateway of Hope annual charity golf tournament in July. Weatherup was the guest speaker, giving a brief glimpse into his fractured life and telling how, thanks to the Salvation Army’s Gateway of Hope, he pulled himself from the brink.
Revealing so much about the fall of his private life to an audience of strangers was not on his to-do list but, he reasoned, “I owe a great debt to these places (Gateway, Redwoods and Envision), and the whole community. Sharing my story was a small price to pay.”
Hawley approached Weatherup after the dinner, and offered him a job working in the golf shop.
In the days before his catastrophic fall, Weatherup had loved golf, and here he was, volunteering at Redwoods for the charity event.
“I’m really ecstatic to work at a job surrounded by nature and golf, a sport I love the most. But there is no chance to play when you are homeless.
“This is a positive place, and I’m surrounded by beauty.”
