Dear Daddy: Letter 13

DOUBLE POST DAY! Today is a bitter sweet day. If you haven't heard, I announced my winner for my giveaway and contacted her.

But also because today is the 13th anniversary of my dad's death. He committed suicide when I was 11 and unfortunately I was the one who found him. Granted my mother and a police officer were with me, as the circumstances at the time were awful but I was the first one in the door, the first one to spot him and the first one to scream bloody murder. I didn't realize it at first. I just said "Oh, there's dad" and picked up my cat who ran and launched himself at me. I should have known then something was wrong. Because my dog didn't greet me and my cat did and because my dad's head didn't turn when we opened the door, because he didn't look at me.

It took my mom saying his name twice and him not moving before the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I realized something was really wrong this time. Then I saw my mom's face and the look in her eyes, the look of I can't shield you from the pain you're about to feel and I am so sorry before it truly registered. And then all hell broke loose. I didn't care who heard or who saw but I lost it. I'd never been so close to death. I heard about it and I'd read about it but I'd never truly felt it before. It was dark and it was cold and it was awful. I was in 6th grade and my school put together a group of kids to go see one of the guidance counselors. They let me take a month off of school and do my work at home, even let me stay at the school for the rest of the year even though we lost our house and I had to move out of the district. But when I got back, every wednesday for the rest of the year I went to group therapy with a bunch of different kids from school. We picked out how we were feeling from a worksheet that had different "feeling" faces with words underneath that matched the face. An angry expression for livid and a frown for depressed. Then we'd have to explain why we felt that way. Some of the activities helped. The last one we did was we wrote a letter to the person we lost and we read them allowed. We wrote them as if we spoke to the person. I still do mine every year on this day. I'm going to share this year's letter with you.

This is why I am going to school for psychology. I want to help anyone who wants it. Please, if you feel like hurting yourself - TRUST ME - I tried to kill myself 7 times and I am thankful every day that it was 7 failed attempts because I would have missed so much. It sounds so freaking cheesy and I didn't believe it myself but life does - in its own way - get better. Well, manageable at least. I promise you there are things worth waiting for. Don't be like my dad, like I tried to be, don't be so selfish and put this pain, your pain on other people. Talk to me. I will listen, I won't judge you and I will understand.