Original subtitles

- Okay, this is Ruth Litoff's photography

and a portrait of her sister.

Do you want to talk about your sister?

- I love my sister very much.

She's probably the most important person to me

in the world.

- So...

What are your plans for the storage space?

- What do you mean?

- Um...

Are you gonna look at the things?

When do you think that you're gonna do that?

- I don't like to remember things,

and I feel like all the memories are in there.

Okay, we're gonna do it.

If I throw up on that lens,

are we covered? - Yeah.

Are you worried that when

I start looking through this stuff,

that I'm gonna go crazy?

- I worry that you think you're gonna go crazy.

- You know Jane got me a space in Brooklyn for three months.

- That's good.

- Hi, I'm Hope. - Chris.

- Everyone in my suicide bereavement group

has a storage space that they can't unpack

of their dead person.

- Are you the first person to unpack her storage space?

- I'm gonna be the first one.

- Do you think that this is gonna be helpful?

You feel compelled to do it?

- I feel compelled to do it.

- Clearing everything out?

- Yeah.

It's been six years.

I feel like I've trapped her in there...

but I think she's mad at me.

- Why?

- Because I was a bad sister.

- How were you a bad sister?

- You're kidding, right?

Not kidding?

- No. I-I-I don't see how you were a bad sister.

- I didn't s--

- From my perspective, she was not the greatest sister

in the world.

- But she was sick, and I wasn't.

- Well, how were you a bad sister?

- I didn't save her.

- I'll show you where it is. - Okay.

This hallway feels like an insane asylum.

- In one of her suicide notes, she said

she definitely wanted her photographs

to be out in the world

being seen and being enjoyed by people,

but I'm paralyzed. I can't--

I can't give them up.

I just need my moment with all of it.

Do you think that's the last-- - We decided one more trip.

- One more trip? Okay.

Thank you.

- I got everything.

- Kids, you have everything you need?

- Mm-hmm.

- Ticket? - Yeah.

- Wallet, cell phone, everything you need?

- I got everything.

- I'm gonna miss you guys, but I'm gonna come

in two days.

- Hug and a kiss. Let's go.

- I don't wanna...

- Okay.

Enough hugging and kissing. Let's go.

- All right, don't be late.

- Bye. - Bye.

I love you. Safe travels. - I'll miss you.

- Love you guys.

Save some sand for me.

- Bye, bye, guys. See you later.

- Bye.

- Stuff was very important to Ruth.

I mean, everything was important to her,

and that's why she saved everything.

I think, if I can look at what was important to her,

I could get some answers.

Ambien...

Lamictal.

- How many times did she try to kill herself?

- A lot.

Twenty?

"Dear sir/madam,

"I'm writing to you regarding Ruth Litoff,

"who's a patient of mine.

"Ruth Litoff experiences severe mood swings,

"severe depression,

and profound suicidal ideation."

I would love to map out what happened.

I can't ask my parents,

because they're both dead.

But I feel like Ruth's stuff has clues in it.

Do you see that piece right there?

- Yeah.

- What's really special about this

is this is the front...

but here's the secret message to me.

The...

blowing of the bubbles, like,

maybe something we would do as kids,

and then there's also sort of

foreshadowing of dying,

sort of when you would be "forever dancing."

Growing up with a mentally ill person,

it was a little bit like comedy and tragedy.

It was such a confusing illness,

because she could be so debilitated

and so magnificent.

When we were young,

I absolutely idolized her.

I wanted to be like her.

I wanted to dress like her.

I wanted to be able to do art like her,

She was the master of everything,

and I was her assistant.

I would sort the Lego pieces

and then she would build the castle.

And I was so young. I was, like--

She could've been a cult leader,

she was so charismatic.

We used to play this really fun game

when my parents would go out.

She was three years older, so she could babysit me,

and we would do everything

we weren't allowed to do in the house,

which was not that many things.

We would eat ice cream in bed,

and every time the phone rang,

we would just pick it up

and scream into the receiver.

That was really fun.

She taught me how to draw.

This was a huge deal. She taught me

how to draw a profile,

and I was the only kid in the class

who knew how to draw a profile.

When she started taking photographs

when we were really young, my dad built her

a darkroom in the closet,

and she would stay in there for hours

and she would print the same photograph

over and over again,

and then she would show them to me,

and it was almost like a test--

which one of these is the best one--

and I would really want to get it right,

and then she would explain to me

why this one was better than this one,

and it was really cool.

It was really cool to have a sister like that.

In high school,

she was very popular.

She also had

a fabulous figure.

Captain of all the sports teams.

I would sit on her feet

so she could do 100 sit-ups every night.

- What was her title? Like...

Like, she-- wasn't she, like, the best shot

in the United States of America under 13

or something? - The best shot in America

for 16 and under

with a .22 rifle.

She was always gonna be the winner.

Whatever contest or competition or art project,

she was going to come in first.

I mean, there wasn't anything she couldn't do.

That's what makes it so hard to understand.

- I never really feel pressure.

I never feel like I have to do something

to prove myself. I never have to prove myself.

But I think it would be exciting,

I think, to start all over.

I sometimes wish I could just

wash the slate clean,

just start all over again.

- Oh, here it is.

I found her on

December 12, 2008.

I got a call from one of Ruth's best friends,

who said, "I haven't heard from Ruth in three days,"

and I pretty much knew.

- I remember, guys were walking down the hall

with axes to break the door down.

And then, the police let us in.

It sounds like a strange thing to say,

but she had made it

as beautiful as one of her photographs.

I saw her shoulder.

I didn't want to look at her face.

- I remember all of the letters around.

- There were notes everywhere,

and she tried to remember all the people she loved

and left them presents.

- There were Post-it notes on things

saying what to do with them.

- The police officer said to me,

"I've never seen anything like this."

And then, there was my note.

It was...

loving,

kind,

even optimistic...

and in very small handwriting,

off to the side,

she wrote "I know you know,"

and I have no idea what that means.

- Are you trying to find

some sort of objective truth

about, uh--

about what happened, or her life?

I mean, is that what you're looking for?

- Yes.

Why Ruth and not me?

Why was Ruth sick and I wasn't sick?

We had the same parents.

My dad was very, sort of, 1950s, "Mad Men."

You know, you work hard, you play hard,

you're not that involved with the children.

My mom really got the brunt of it.

Lots of drama.

Whatever mood Ruth was in was the mood

the whole family was gonna be in.

The message, very early on, was,

"Be on high alert,

"don't create any waves,

"don't upset your sister,

and don't make it worse."

We looked perfect on the outside,

but we were rotting on the inside.

I dealt with it

by disappearing

into drugs and alcohol.

Ruth dealt with it

by demanding more and more and more,

and if she didn't get what she wanted,

she would threaten to kill herself.

Her first attempt--

she was 16 and I was 13,

and she begged me to sleep in bed with her.

When we woke up,

I found out that she had taken a bottle of pills.

What if I woke up

and my big sister was dead?

We were in the same bed, and I didn't know.

Now that I've started the project,

I don't sleep very well.

Thinking about my sister a lot. Um...

I'm in a fight with my husband,

because he says that I'm depressed,

but I think that I am

just grieving.

Think it's really hard for him to understand.

He hasn't lost a parent.

He even has a great-grandparent in her 90s.

I feel like he hasn't even lost a hamster.

I feel like you enter a club

when one of your parents dies,

and until one of your parents dies,

you don't know what it's like,

but when you enter the suicide club

it's a very...

small club,

elite club.

"Elite" sounds almost positive,

but I don't mean it that way.

I'm just--mean that...

Uh, I don't--

I don't know if civilians can get it.

- Have you just been coming here alone?

- Yeah.

- Wow, it's really big.

Oh, my God.

- A lot of stuff, right? - A lot of pills.

- Yeah.

- That's crazy.

- That's only from 1999 until she died in 2008.

- How old was she when she killed herself?

- 42.

- Why would she save them all?

- I think she wanted to--

I have two theories. I think she wanted

to make an art project out of them,

but I also think she just wanted proof

as to how hard she had been trying

to get well.

- And you did this? - Yes.

- What pills are they? What are they?

- Look at them.

Feel free.

- Ambien...

- That's a sleeping pill.

- Dextrostat...

- Lithium, I think, is for bipolar disorder.

- Dex--more dextrostat.

You should get rid of all of these immediately.

- Why do you think I should get rid of them?

- Because I don't think you should have

the temptation to take them. - I'm not.

- This is just crazy.

- Right?

And none of these helped her.

- Zolpidem.

This is nuts. - That's Ambien, too.

That's the generic name.

- Holy shit.

Just throw them all out.

- No, I can't throw them out.

This was her lifeline.

- But you...

Being sober for 16 years,

I'm just, as your lifelong friend,

scared for your well-being.

- I'm not gonna take them.

Let me help you, however I can.

It's a lot of beautiful artwork.

- They're incredible, right? - Yeah.

I mean, I always remember being blown away.

So there's stuff from every series here?

- Yeah, and I don't know--

did you ever see the kids?

These are some of her earliest works.

I believe she started them when she was 17.

- Oh, my God. - Look at these kids.

- Yeah, that's great.

So you don't know how she-- where she went

to take these pictures?

- She was brave. She would walk

all over the city

and ask anyone to take their photograph.

I mean, look at the portrait of this kid...

- Yeah.

- It's almost like

you would want to say

he's on the verge of losing his innocence,

but I would say it's already lost.

I mean, I love this, these two angry girls

with that huge smiley face.

- "E.T. dies over overdose."

- That's... ironic.

- I mean, look how young they are.

They're babies.

- I mean, look at those kids.

- Yeah.

- Right?

- Yeah.

- It's very Molly Ringwald.

- Yeah.

- She did so many different styles.

- You walk into that apartment,

and it was like a candy store of art.

I mean, her-- not only just her photographs

all over the place...

but she'd make these--

she'd have the little drawings

and she'd make these little tchotchke things

that she'd put all over the place,

sad and searching...

- Very fragile. - But also very inspiring

and uplifting at the same time.

- Come here.

- It's so impressive to me

that Ruth was able to feel the pain

and continue to be creative.

Many times, she would fall into

such a deep depression

that she would feel like suicide was the only answer,

and then, when she woke up in the hospital,

she felt much better,

and she was happy she was alive.

I can tell this one's very delicate.

I think your sister drew this.

Did she draw this?

- Mm-hmm.

- I will be very gentle with it.

The sides of the pages are yellow.

- What does that tell you? - That it's very old.

- You really like that book? - Yeah.

- Thank you. - You're welcome, sweetie.

- You can't go through and read all of her journals.

- Why not?

- 'Cause that's just crazy.

- She left them for me to read.

If she didn't want anyone to read them,

she would have thrown them away.

To tell you the truth, I was so, like,

blacked out for everything,

and she took such precise notes

on what happened,

I'm finally looking at what happened.

- And why are you wanting to look now?

- Just want to understand her more.

Do you know who made this artwork right here?

- No.

- Do you want to know? - Yeah.

- My sister.

- Uh-huh.

- Do you know her name?

- Ruth? - Mm-hmm.

You know who made that artwork right there?

- Ruth?

- You going to guess Ruth for everything now?

- Yeah.

- Who made this? - Ruth.

And those pictures are of my mother.

- And you.

- No, not me.

- You're over there.

- That's my mom in the window, when she was a little girl.

My mother was very afraid of her own mother,

our grandmother, who we never met,

and her name was Ruth,

and my mother named her first daughter Ruth,

which is a traditional thing to do.

Then I come along, and she names me Hope.

I'm named after her father,

who she adored.

- When Ruthie was born,

she was a very demanding child,

very difficult child.

When you were born,

it was the total opposite.

Your mom had a very hard time.

She had a very hard time, and

I even recall your mom telling me

about times when she was taking her to the park,

and if she met a friend in the street,

and wanted to stop and talk,

Ruthie would start to scream and yell in the carriage.

Then mom would have to run.

Two different--completely different--children from birth.

From birth.

- And I remember being a little kid,

not knowing anything about mental illness,

or knowing that Ruth was struggling

with any problems, and saying,

"Why does she keep asking me if I love her?

I just told her yesterday."

She would ask me over and over again,

and then she would often

give me these tests of love.

She would say, "If I die,

would you shave your head?"

We were just kids,

and I would say, "Yes, I'll shave my head."

She would say, "If I die,

"will you take my ashes

"and mix them with clay

"and make me into a pot

and put flowers in every day?"

And I would say, "Yes, I'll do that."

That's what breaks my heart the most.

When I see her friends,

they say, "You know,

your sister really loved you,"

and what I really want them to say is

"Your sister knew that you really loved her."

She wanted us to be twins,

have a secret language,

and at a certain age,

that started to feel suffocating to me,

and I don't think she liked it

when I wanted to be my own person.

That was taken as rejection,

when it--it really was just normal growing up.

Were you sleeping?

- I'm not sleeping.

- Can I have a kiss? - Mm-hmm.

Ugh. That was a lick!

- Okay, I just wanted

to know where you were. I'm sorry.

- Hi.

- She's really afraid that

she's Ruth in the making,

and I'm terrified.

The doctor told me

when my children turn two,

that I was going to be reminded of my sister,

because people who have

personality disorders like Ruth's

and two-year-olds

have a lot of similarities.

I worry about their health,

I worry about their sanity,

their sobriety.

I feel like I gave them a really bad hand of DNA.

- Our children don't have that problem.

Our two-year-old is not-- have any mental issues.

She's two,

and I blame Ruth

for your concern about, like, having to worry about that.

I'm sitting in our kitchen,

talking about how Ruth affects how we parent our kids.

Like, I don't--

- There's a genetic component.

- Uh, I guess.

- You never worried about it?

- Whee!

- Smiling!

- It's Christmas Eve, and I'm at my in-laws' house

in Los Angeles.

It's five days after

Ruth was buried,

six years ago.

Um...

To--this is always a hard time for me,

and my...

2 1/2-year-old daughter--

just out of the blue, she

decides to pronounce that

Mommy doesn't love her,

but Daddy loves her very much.

I don't know if this is something that

a normal two-year-old says,

but it actually really hurt my feelings.

Merry Christmas.

So it turns out, I'm totally the crazy one.

The baby went down to the party

and she cried that

she wanted Mommy to put her to bed,

and I said to her,

"No, you like Daddy,

not Mommy."

My husband got so mad at me.

He was like, "You're the adult."

I couldn't help it

that my feelings were really hurt.

My crazy makeup isn't helping anything.

I look crazy, feel crazy.

But what kind of two-year-old says,

"Mommy doesn't love me. Only Daddy loves me."

Is that normal?

You knew Ruth in high school,

and now you're a therapist.

I just really want to talk to an expert like you.

- The biggest fear that a lot of parents have is

"Am I going to inherit

you know, these mental illnesses?

Is that going to happen to my child?

both: Like, is that going to happen to my child?

- Right, that's a-- - Sarah, tell me...

- That's a big-- - Is gonna happen?

- Well, if mental illness exists in the family,

there is gonna be

a possible genetic predisposition

to having the mental illness

be expressed in a child.

Can I ask you a question?

Was there any diagnosis given to her

when she was going to therapy?

- Very often, she was given the diagnosis

of bipolar disorder. - Okay.

- But from what I've read and my experiences,

she seems much more

borderline personality disorder.

- Mm-hmm, mm-hm. - For example, like,

that seem to be

something missing in

feeling love and-- and holding onto that.

- So borderlines

never, ever feel fulfilled.

It's chronically empty.

They're constantly trying to

figure out how to be fulfilled, and they'll never get it.

My guess is that Ruth,

you know, during the '80s and '90s,

that there was not enough research done

right, on borderline,

so she probably

received the medication that she need

to deal with the symptoms,

but then, there was no other treatment that happened.

Since it's not just about

doing the medical treatment to cure the symptoms.

It's also about doing the further investigation

of the evolution of the family

as a unit.

- Right.

Do you know the story behind these albums?

- No. - Ruth decided

she wanted to make these photo albums.

My parents weren't necessarily interested in having her do it,

but she made them pay her

to make them.

Yikes.

- That Ruth goes from - Yeah. That.

- My grandmother. Literally my grandmother,

and then you turn the page,

and it's like, "Oh, whatever. Nude picture of my boyfriend."

- And these are the albums she made for your parents.

- Yes, that they had to pay for.

- Ooh, Rolex shot.

- It looks like my mom is loving him,

but she's really loving... - She's not.

- The Rolex. - She's waiting for the watch.

She got it going on.

She knows what time it is.

She really, you know, picked herself up, and...

your mother had a horrible childhood.

- I know.

My mom came from a very poor family,

and I think that very early on,

she realized that the way she looked

gave her some power.

With this power, she was gonna get out of

her bad situation in Brooklyn

and looks became very important to her.

My mom was always on a diet.

She was a lifetime member of Weight Watchers.

If she gave us each a piece of cake,

Ruth and I used to say,

"You gave her the smaller piece.

You love her more."

My mother's beauty really did work in her favor.

She was a model in the garment district,

and she married my father

and helped him build his business

until she had the Manhattan lifestyle

that she really wanted,

and then could give her children

the things that she always wanted

to have herself.

And some of them were a little superficial.

Like, she always wanted to have blonde hair and blue eyes,

and then...

Well, like, in this picture, for example,

this is totally... twisted.

She dyed my sister's hair blond when she was five.

- Oh, my God.

And there begins the problems.

- It looks like she liked this one a lot.

It's nice and mushy.

An adult with stuffed animals was very her.

I don't know, it's like--

this is stuff--for babies.

It's just...

It's like, all this stuff-- like, she was just

trying to be happy, like a kid.

I mean, look at this Hello Kitty pencil case.

Come on.

She wrote her name on the inside,

like a five-year-old.

I'm at a friend's house.

I don't know if everyone does this,

or just drug addicts,

but I found this.

This is...

really making me want to

throw away 17 years of sobriety.

Around 14,

my girlfriends and I snuck our first drink,

and I had this amazing feeling of

"I don't know what's wrong with me,

but this is the cure."

I was a blackout drinker...

and I have blackout memories.

I don't remember all the times

she tried to commit suicide.

I--I have memories of when the police would arrive,

but I don't remember the order.

My dad was a heavy drinker.

I drank with him.

That was the only thing I had in common

with my father.

That was not seen as unusual in my house.

And he also introduced me to Percocet,

and he would say to me,

"Want half a Percy, Hopie?"

He would give me half a Percocet

and we would drink.

So many times,

Ruth would be in the hospital,

and he would say to me,

"Just be happy. Have a drink,"

and my mom would look at me pleadingly

and say, "You're happy, right?"

and I knew the only answer was

"Yes, Mommy, I'm happy."

- You always did pretend to be happy,

and I know why:

because your mother had a full plate.

Ruthie took so much of her energy and love.

There were so many times that

your mom rescued her.

I know there was one on a ledge.

Wasn't there one that she got on a ledge?

Your mom had no life

and apparently, Ruthie couldn't live in

the one we had, she had,

and I felt sad,

and I'm gonna cry.

But, she recovered

to make further attempts,

and, um...

I mean, she just couldn't find her way in this world.

- Hi, I was hoping I could speak with Detective Cozzi.

- You can sit out-- You can sit out and wait.

He'll probably come back.

That's about it. - Thank you.

The woman in the records room

who found--who actually did find the record

basically told me that

there was nothing else I needed to know

and when I expressed that I needed closure,

she recommended that I

seek out the Jehovah's Witnesses

at jw.org,

and I was told to come back at 12:00.

- Ruth Litoff? - Yes, that's my sister.

- You're the one that-- - I requested the report.

- Is that correct--the name?

- Yes. - Okay, so here it is.

- It's right here? - Yeah, it's the whole package.

- Thank you so much. - You're welcome.

- I really appreciate it.

What the detective told me was really painful.

He said that my sister died in pain,

and I shouldn't look in the pictures.

I don't know--

I don't really know how to deal with

my feelings about this.

It's very upsetting.

Thinking about drinking.

I mean, what's the big deal?

I got out of it before.

I just ordered a double vodka on the rocks,

with two olives.

Thank you.

- You're welcome.

Thank you.

First drink in 16 years.

- Good or bad?

- Bad.

- What's that?

- This is like her own version of a Joseph Cornell box,

with little different strange treasures

that mean something to her.

- Through Ruth's eye. - What's this one?

- I don't know.

- Ooh, a Valium.

I wonder if it still works.

Look at this tiny baby.

- What's this? - Ugh, an impaled baby.

I know she was very upset

about having had two abortions.

At around age 14, Ruth was having sex.

She would just take her boyfriend into her bedroom

and lock the door.

I wish my parents had stopped her,

but they didn't...

and eventually, she did get pregnant,

and she chose to have an abortion.

Ruth's best friend's mother

was a producer on "20/20,"

and asked her to be on the show.

- We start with a girl.

She lives in New York City,

where she's a high school senior

and a talented photographer.

- When I was pregnant, I really felt like

I had a responsibility to my baby,

even though it was just-- it was just a fetus.

It wasn't really anything.

I always--you know, I watched what I ate

and I just kind of took care of it,

even though I knew that it was gonna go away.

- Of course, she wasn't ready to have a baby--

she was just in high school--

but she never forgot about it, either.

- And I remember when she had her abortion.

Did she continue thinking about, like,

"Oh, if I had had that child"?

- She just sort of acknowledged that

her depression was going to prevent her

from being able to have children.

I realized from looking at her journals

that that is a huge disappointment for her,

which I never knew.

- Hm.

- She would sometimes represent herself

as damaged goods

and then-- it might say something like

"forever fixed,"

and it'd be an image of her holding a baby.

Babies, to her, were a symbol

of good health

and happiness, I think.

When my son, Charlie, was born,

she only had a chance to meet him once.

And if she wasn't mentally ill,

she would've been an amazing aunt.

- She confided in me that she felt

very lost and alone.

- My parents' failure

in being able to help fix her,

or heal her, I just think,

was too frustrating.

- Mm-hmm.

- For her to even, sometimes, be around them,

I'm guessing.

- I know your mom loved her enormously,

but your dad, he-- he was pulling her down,

it seems like, always, and, um,

he--I mean, at one point, she told me

she took a lot of pills

and she ended up going to Bellevue,

and she told me that your father said,

"Next time, jump."

It was hard. God, it was hard being Ruth.

So yeah, there were the emergency calls,

emergency dates.

Yeah, it was like being a social worker.

It was a friend-social worker relationship.

It had its rewards and its perks, but it was--

it was hard to be Ruth, it was hard to be near her,

and, um...

and it was also beautiful at times.

- Her great times were pretty great.

Now, it wasn't like she was just depressed

and alone with her cat.

Like, she had a lot of really sparkling moments as well.

- It was everything. It was the whole--

you got the whole spectrum with Ruth.

It's like a full Shakespeare tragedy.

It was really fun in, like, the '80s and the '90s,

I'd get a call from Ruth, and she'd be like,

"It's time to do a photo shoot.

We haven't done a photo shoot in a while,"

and I was like, "Yeah, that's right!"

I mean, okay, so it was like, teens, 20s.

Like, we both had great bodies,

um, and it was just, like, time to celebrate them

and, like take off your clothes

and put on trench coats and heels

and go on the roof and take pictures,

and we had so much fun.

And she was so open and free,

and she made her subjects

feel that way too.

She was--she appreciated beauty,

and she was so sexy herself,

and she appreciated it. She brought that out.

She brought out sensuality and sexuality

in all of her subjects.

She would seduce everyone

into taking great pictures.

- Every boyfriend I've seen naked.

- Yeah.

- One has a better body than the next.

- Exactly, exactly.

Ruth was very exciting, and she gave--

in terms of artwork, of course--

and she gave with humor,

and she gave with love,

and she also took

enormous amounts of energy,

and it would take time to recover after.

- Ruth was very sensual-- sexual person,

but she always had an insecurity.

It was a bottomless well.

We met in the summer of 1991 in Quogue in a share house.

Immediately, all the single guys in the house

were like, you know, just drawn to this--

this person. She's beautiful and--

you know, and I figured that I didn't have a shot.

And once she started shooting me,

she really helped me

to see myself in a different light.

You know, the effect that she had on you,

it was brighter than the sun.

You couldn't help be drawn to that person.

- "I wanted Alan."

You know, maybe part of me thought that I could heal her

and that I could take that pain away from her.

- Me too.

- But I couldn't. I--you know,

I--I couldn't, despite how hard I tried.

- She would pull people in close

and then act in such a horrible way

that the person had to leave,

and then she would say, "Why-- why did you leave me?"

- She clearly must have thought she was beautiful,

or was that just her trying to convince herself that she was?

All the nude pictures of herself and bikini shots?

- I think-- - I mean, is that a sign

of insecurity? What is that about?

- I think that was a sign of insecurity.

- I think the self-portrait is very...

complicated for her.

Self-searching, but also wanting to look good,

and wanting to see what other people would see.

I can't tell you the amount of times

I told her how beautiful she was.

Maybe she could see who she was in a photograph

in a way that she couldn't see

just by feeling who she was.

So this is what I want your help with.

I'm gonna try and bust into Ruth's computer.

- Wow.

So what are you looking for on the computer?

- I don't really know when she wrote her last email.

Did you just turn it on?

- No, I didn't touch anything.

- Maybe Ruth turned it on.

- Yeah.

Amazing that it's just-- starts up and it's fine.

- I need something to make a mouse pad.

Is that too small to read?

- Um, no, it says--

- This one says "Bellevue Photos."

- Wow, how many times has she gone to Bellevue?

- A lot. - She would commit herself?

- My memory is it was always after a suicide attempt.

- Oh, look. - What does it say?

I don't have my glasses on.

- It says, "Hi, Ruth.

"In reading your email from March 3rd, 2008,

it sounds as though you have secured the light boxes."

- These are, like, architect's blueprints.

I like that she dreamed big.

- "Bellevue Hospital Center will accommodate your request

to have your opening reception at the site in spring 2008."

She was really pretty far along.

- I mean, she died right after that.

- That's kind of sad. - Yeah.

I don't know what my responsibility is,

as the only person that's left living.

- I know, but-- - I mean, these are, like,

records of her life.

What am I supposed to do with them?

- Yeah. - Right.

- I've still been drinking.

Nobody knows about it,

but I think it's fine.

I just need it right now, and then

when I don't need it, I'll just stop.

- Hope, what are you doing?

- I'm looking through the bottles

to see which ones have pills left in them

and if any of them interest me.

- Okay, what do you mean by that?

- What I mean is maybe

I can experience what my sister experienced.

You know what? That's bullshit.

Maybe I can get high

off of the pills that she left behind.

- You know this puts us in a really complicit situation?

- Two. - Two?

- Yeah. One is good, two is better.

Ooh, it's stale.

I've never taken it before.

It's a form of Adderall.

I've never taken it before.

And there's something about

the fact that they're Ruth's pills

that make them feel more special to me.

- I don't want to be enabling your addiction.

- Tough shit.

Seriously.

Oh, I just wanna feel what she feels, and...

I just wanna be inside her.

I think I should see if George can meet me.

Don't worry about me.

- I do worry about you.

Okay, so are you sober now?

- I'm not sober right now, no.

- We had a pact about being sober.

It's difficult, being in that pact

and having one person check out of the pact,

and I need you to know that

you have responsibilities to people who are living

right now.

I mean, it's like your mom died,

your dad died, Ruth killed herself.

And this is what's-- - I lived through it.

- Yeah, and you were sober through all of it,

so I don't-- I don't really understand

what's going on. - Okay, well,

I'll explain it to you. The difference is,

I became a robot as each person died.

I took my feelings and I squashed them down

and I took my feelings and I squashed them down.

I just was like, "Keep going, keep going,

keep going," and now, all the emotions

that I refused to feel while I was sober

and Ruth was ill

and all the feelings that I refused to feel

after she killed herself--

I'm feeling them.

- This is crazy. She's dead.

- We're gonna start in 1996.

What do you think of that i-- what does that say?

- Not very much indeed.

I mean, it'd be nice if you could balance some of this

with spending time with your kids.

- I know, but this is gonna help me

be a better mom to them.

- Eventually?

- I guess not right now.

Okay, put it up, put it up.

I just wanna see if it's lined up.

Why didn't you go all the way up to the ceiling?

This way, a pattern might be revealed.

- I just--I just--

I think that this is-- I don't really understand it.

I don't understand what pattern you think you're gonna see.

You're looking at datebooks that are ten years old

from a dead person.

- Not that one. Use this one. - Huh?

She did her dry cleaning on Tuesday, the 2nd.

- See? Now you're wondering too.

- And here comes a suicide attempt.

- "Found in coma, 1:30."

- Yeah.

- All right, see you later. - Okay.

- January '97.

January '98, January '99.

February.

March, April.

October.

2001, 2002, 2003, 2004.

March, March, March, March.

I don't see a pattern.

This looks to me like a very manic phase.

Intense colors,

and, like, right here, this is a very intense thing.

It has a woman and it says "Help."

When she's manic, is that more likely

that she's gonna try to commit suicide?

But I haven't been able to find...

a pattern like that, because sometimes,

the pages will be very bare and blank,

for example, here,

she ends up going to get

electric shock therapy,

and she stays there for weeks.

Depressed, depressed, depressed.

D, D, D.

Some "S"s.

That means "worse than depressed."

That means "suicidal."

Oh look, here's another one.

Big, big red S.

"Took pills for four days, hoping to die."

"A good day to die."

It seems like everything's fine,

and then, all of a sudden,

she tried to kill herself,

and then she gets out,

and she goes and plays ultimate Frisbee.

She would write "Belle View"-- beautiful view--

so she must have liked it, if that's what she called it.

She really went from

wonderful times to horrible times

very, very quickly.

Here's a suicide attempt, February 18th,

which is my birthday.

"Sorry, Hopie."

She often accused me of abandoning her.

And I see that I was actually with her a lot.

Here's the last one.

I found her on Friday the 12th.

I don't know that she was alive on the 12th,

before I found her, or if she predicted

she would die on one of these days,

and she made the little circles.

And so I don't really know what day she died on.

- Have you seen these photographs?

- No.

- Um, they--they may be upsetting to you.

Yep.

And she's with a-- a stuffed animal, there.

- Yeah, a stuffed animal.

Can you tell how long she had been dead for?

- Eh, at least of the order of 24 hours.

- Someone looks alive

and then they look really dead.

- Sometimes death looks stunningly lifeless.

I think...

You know, if-- you know, when your memory

have been embroidering this

into something, you know, more lyrical and exalted,

but I'm--you know, emotionally, you know the truth of this

all the way along, I'm sure.

- No. I pretend that

she's still alive.

It's like she's with me all the time.

The guilt that I feel is...

unbearable,

and I'm falling apart.

This is hard.

- You're saying "One swig, and I'll never drink again?"

- One swig, and I'll never drink again.

- Okay.

Go ahead. - I'm gonna have a swig.

- Okay, I'm coming with you.

- Okay, I'm gonna take a glass.

- Oh, it has to be out of a glass?

- Well, do you think your parents

want me to drink straight from their bottle?

- No...

- I'm really having a hard time.

- Yeah, I know, but I'm scared, and--

and I've been chasing you around all morning,

trying to make sure that you don't have a drink,

I can't do that. I can't--

I can't follow you around all day.

- This will be the last time.

- And I don't know what to do.

I don't know what the right thing to do is.

You're not yourself.

You're a different person.

Is that how much you want?

I--you can't be passed out on the airplane.

- My hands are shaking.

It's horrible.

Okay, that's it.

- I mean, you say-- I know that you say that,

but, like, I--

you forget who you're talking to.

- What do you mean? - Now, I'm on camera,

saying "Have another drink,"

and, you know...

- Right now? - Yeah. I mean, no,

I'm not saying you should have another drink now.

- I'm just saying we just--

you just--you said, "Can I have another drink?"

and I said "Okay," and I don't know

how to feel about that.

I mean-- - It's the only thing

that makes me feel better.

I don't know how to explain that.

- I understand. - It's the only thing

that takes the pain away. - You don't need to explain it.

- I just feel really guilty

that I'm alive and she's dead.

- Well, here's my perspective.

She's been dead for seven years

and she's sent you to this bar

from the grave to drink.

I just--I really don't know how to stop.

- I know. - I know.

Here's my rehab room.

The big book,

required reading for all alcoholics.

Pictures from my kids.

There's nothing wrong with them.

Obviously, I'm the one with the problem.

I always wanted to be the opposite of Ruth.

You know what? We're not that different.

I always knew that I felt very guilty,

and I always knew I blamed myself,

but I didn't realize how painful it would be

to have compassion for her.

So ask me a question.

- Where are you--where are you coming from?

Where are you going?

- I have 30 days sober today.

- Yay. - And I'm going home.

- How exciting. - Very exciting.

- You look good.

- Thanks. I miss you.

- I miss you too.

- What do you know about these sort of blueprints

that she made for a possible display at Bellevue?

- It was one of the last things that she worked on.

Uh, she really wanted to do something

with her flowers in a dead space.

- Do you think it would be crazy

to try and make this happen?

- Are you ready to, emotionally?

Combining not just the art,

but the crazy and the hospitals and the whole thing?

- I don't know.

You want to help me carry it?

Thank you.

- It's one thing to say,

"Okay, I think I'm ready to go,"

and open up the storage unit

and look at her work,

but this becomes a whole other thing.

- The difference with this, though, is

I would be making

one of Ruth's wishes come true.

- Well, that's for sure.

- And if I could realize that for her,

I would feel really proud.

I want to celebrate the good things about Ruth

and not dwell on the bad things.

Okay, so I should change.

Hello. - Hey!

Hi, I'm Greg Mink. How we doing?

- Nice to meet you. - Nice to meet you.

- Thank you so much for coming over.

- Not a problem.

- So, um, I set up the photographs in here.

- Wow.

- So, um,

these are ones that you probably saw with her

years ago. - Yes. Mm-hmm.

- There's more in here. - Mm-hmm.

It's a little dusty, but...

Um, I actually have that one on my wall.

- Mm-hmm.

- This box has a lot,

but you could choose which one you could take with you.

- Mm-hmm. The next one?

- Mm-hmm. - Mm-hmm.

- Oh, that's a pretty one.

We're gonna give you that one, even if you don't want it.

- Yes. Mm-hmm.

- You can see, like... - Yes.

- The scale really makes a difference.

- Yes. - You know?

- Mm-hmm.

- I'm so excited.

- Uh, we'll meet with-- meet with

the public affairs people next week,

and in terms of this show and we'll just give them a--

a little background,

and I think they would be on board.

- Like maybe, up to the--

- So now you can see some of that detail.

- Wow, that detail is amazing.

- Look at that yellow green. That's like...

- That's wonderful.

- Yeah. Get a little bit better sense

of what we're looking at.

- Ooh.

Ooh!

- Yeah, this one's magical. - Magical.

- Yeah.

- Wow. I know she loved this one,

because she gave it a name.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

- And then, are these logos correct?

- Yes. - And do you like

the name and font? - Yes.

It just has to look good.

It has to look as good

as Ruth would want it to look.

She had very high standards...

That were a little hard to live up to.

I don't doubt

the artwork and I don't doubt...

I just-- I just want to make sure

that I did it right.

I can carry one.

When we were little kids,

I was her faithful servant.

I still feel like I am.

She always wanted to become one with me.

Looks good.

She's in there.

My sister made these. - Can I take a picture?

- You can take a picture. Of course.

- Cell phone--take a picture.

- That's cute. - Thank you so much.

Thank you. - No, thank you.

I'm glad you're enjoying it.

That makes me really happy. Thank you.

One of Ruth's dreams

was to have a show at Bellevue.

I made it my dream to have a show at Bellevue.

That's not my dream.

My dream is something so impossible.

My wish is that she'd come back

and be healthy.

There is something unique

about losing someone to suicide.

It's not really something you're ever gonna get over.

It's a daily battle.

It's like you always have a splinter in your hand

Sometimes you notice it and sometimes you don't,

but the splinter's always there.

You can't destroy yourself over it, but...

You can have the splinter and live.

The splinter's not gonna kill you.

- You want to talk about your sister?

- Um, when I did that portrait of my sister,

we were in a very good mood and we were very happy,

but I always knew

there was something underlying--

you know, down inside her--

that it just wasn't altogether happy.

- Do you love your sister?

- I love my sister very much.

She's probably the most important person to me

in the world.