I'm not very good at writing about this, but here it goes. In November my father committed suicide. I was 14 at the time. And I was, and still am, a big daddy's girl, so this is really hard for me to deal with. I still don't think I realize what's happened. Every now and then I wait for my dad to come home from work and then realize he's not coming home. He's gone physically but not mentally. There is not one day that goes by that I don't wonder why he did it. And sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't have asked for so much stuff, maybe everything would have been okay, but then I realize it's not my fault. My father always kept stuff bottled inside, and I guess my parents' divorce and my grandparents being old and poor didn't help.
What my father did has changed my life in so many ways. I've had to grow up a lot, and I've come to realize anything can happen to my family and me. And it's changed the way some people treat me. There were girls at school that I thought hated me, but yet they came to my dad's funeral. And then there are the people who look at me, and just give me the dirtiest look, and I have to tell myself that it wasn't my fault.
It's been almost a year since my dad died, and I don't have enough courage to go to his grave. His death is something that I can't accept yet, but one day I will. I'll move on, and I'll be able to visit his grave. A lot of people think I'm being a baby by not going to his grave, but they don't know anything about what I'm going through. And then there are those people who ask how much money my father left my family and me. When people ask that, I just respectfully and calmly tell them that it's none of their business.
Just one more thing to anyone who reads this: If you are upset, talk to someone; don't hurt yourself. There will always be someone there to help you. Don't do what my father did because it hurts too many people, and it's a very selfish way of taking care of your problems.