I Am A Survivor Of Suicide

I am a Survivor of Suicide. Normally people would think that I am the one who actually tried to commit suicide. I am a different kind of Survivor.

My Father committed suicide on January 23, 2008. I was only 17 years old. Just old enough to understand what had happened but not quite old enough to understand why. I was in my senior year of high school. I had everything ahead of me. Who knew it could all change so drastically in an instant. Forever will that day stand out in my memory.

Wednesday:

The morning started out like any other morning. Except was dad was still home when I got up for school. Usually I was by myself. I didn't say 'Good Morning' to his or 'Bye' when I left for school. I wish I had. Even if he wouldn't have heard it. I still wish I had said it.

The school day went by pretty quickly and soon I was heading back home. I was dropped off around 2:45pm. My dads truck was still in the driveway. I went inside, still didn't think to say anything to him. That wasn't unusual. We often we days without saying more than a couple words to each other. I didn't bother to go to his room to say 'Hi' to him either. I settled in to work on some homework so I could lay around for the rest of the night.

My mom got home 2 hours later. She hadn't been home more than 5 minutes when she found the note.

I'll be gone by the time you read this

My chest tightened. Every possibility of where he could be crossed my mind at once. I went to the neighbors to see if he was over there while, my mom checked the house. A couple minutes later, our search revealed nothing. We called the cops and waited. It couldn't have been more than five minutes but it felt like hours.

The cops arrived and found him in the shed behind our house. That's when things started going really fast. Four more cops showed, so did a Fire Truck, an Ambulance and a Corner Van. My mom and I were separated and questioned. Our hands were swabbed for gunshot residue. Then questioned again. No one was allowed in/out of the house. Pictures were taken of the whole house. They took all the medications from the medicine cabinet that had my dads name on it. I was finger printed and so was my mom. Our family showed up but they had to wait across the street. No one would tell me what was happening. All I knew was my dad had committed suicide but it was being classified as a homicide until they could prove otherwise and I was a suspect.

When I finally allowed to leave and go across the street to join my family, things started to slow down. I was invited to spend the night at my aunts house but I refused. I needed to be in my own bed tonight. I wanted to be by myself. The Detective came over and looked us straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry but we don't do clean up." He said. It was cold and heartless. Like he didn't care that a girl had lost her father. A woman had lost her husband. Sisters had lost their brother. None of that mattered to him. Then he walked back out of the house, got in the car and walked away.

At 10pm, I was allowed to go to bed. I turned the TV on and put on the Weather Channel. Normally, the Weather Channel will knock me out pretty easily. But it wasn't a normal night. I laid away for hours, crying. Sobbing my eyes out, until I couldn't cry any more. Only then did I finally get to sleep.

I woke up just a few hours later and some how managed to get dressed. The door bell started ringing. It was like a revolving door. Our fridge quickly filled with food. My aunt brought over meals for the next week for their catering company. I was forced to eat. I didn't feel like it but I did it so everyone would leave me alone.

Thursday:

My mom and I went to my school the next day to tell them why I wasn't there. I got a pass to walk around the hall. I had a few things I needed to take care of. First I went to my World Geography class. I walked in and my teacher immediately hugged me.

"Why are you here?" She asked. I guess the email of what had happened had been sent out.

"I came in to turn my homework in." I said. I handed her the paper. I didn't even notice her taking it out of my hand.

"You didn't have too but if you need anything don't be afraid to talk to me." She said. I nodded and walked out of the room. I only had one last stop. I walked outside to my soccer coaches class. I didn't play soccer but I was the manager; required to go to every game.

I opened the door to his class and walked inside.

"I'm not going to be able to make it to the tournament this weekend. My dad died last night." I said trying not to cry again.

"What are you doing here? Go home." He said walking me out of the classroom. "Let me know if you need anything." He said right before I left. I walked back around to the front of the school and into the car.

Friday:

After much persuasion I am allowed to go back to school. I didn't want to be at home. People telling me how sorry they were. I was sick of it. School was a welcomed distraction. Every teacher told me I didn't have to be at school. I should have stayed home and waited before coming back. I was excused from tests but refused and took them anyways. I knew the material and I wanted to focus on anything other than what had happened only two days ago.

By then all my friends knew what had happened. They all hugged me and told me how sorry they were. Most of them I don't even talk to anymore. Only a select few are still around. I got through the day looking for any way, not to go home.

Two weeks later, was the service. I only have tiny flickers of what happened. It is the last thing I remember until May of 2008.

I attached myself to my dads side of the family. We are very close even to this day. My cousin who was only 1 1/2 at the time asks me questioned about my dad. He's five now and has many of the same interest as my dad. I bet they would have gotten along very well.

Suicide can't be dealt with like a normal death. You just cant get over it. There is always that hole inside of you that never goes away. Five years later, I still go to group therapy twice a week.

My father died 6 months before I graduated, 6 months before I turned 18 and got my license. He never got to see my move out of the house and live in a different city. He wont see me have a career in music but I know he would be extremely proud.

By doing this my Father set me apart of everyone. I will never be able to get back to the normal I once knew. Nothing seems to have the same feeling anymore. It took a while before I could think clearly again. A whole chunk of my life is missing and I have no way of getting it back.

If you are thinking about committing suicide, please consider what I have said and remember, No matter how bad life may seem, It will get better! Don't tear your family apart! They need you even if it doesn't seem like it.