I lost my father to suicide when I was 7 years old. That’s a rough age for tragedy. You are old enough to be aware and to remember but still too young to understand, too young to ever have closure.
To this day I struggle with my emotions towards what my father has done. For a while I was sad but as I grew older and went through so many changes and milestones in my life, I became angry. How could a father that loves his children so much just leave them? Why wasn’t I good enough to live for? What did I do that made him feel so worthless? These questions still run through my head from time to time. You know it’s not your fault and that there was nothing you could do. Deep down, in your heart, you still have that guilt. I wonder also how my life would be now if he were still here. Could I accept love better? Would I trust harder and be free of the walls I have built up around me? Or would I have to watch my dad struggle day to day and keep going on? Would I have the pain of seeing someone I should look up to and rely on be hurt so badly? Feel so helpless to save someone who should be my hero?
I have been to dark places in my life but I have never thought that it was so bad I needed to die. The thought of the hell people live in that would lead them to a suicidal path is horribly terrifying. Is there a way we can help them? Not to just make it day to day, but to find a way out of the dark? A way to save them, more than just persuade them today isn’t the day? What do these souls need? How do we love and nurture them back to a safe and warm life? How do we lead them to their self worth and self love?
Everyday, in little ways I may not even notice, I exhibit the after effects of abandoment. Everytime I second guess myself. Everytime I question if I am doing good enough, if I am good enough. When I have to wonder why someone like my boyfriend or my friends, even my own mother would ever love me. These are the fears I have because my love wasn’t enough to save my daddy.