My father’s death.

When I lived with my father things got out of control and I moved to my grandmother while waiting for my mother to arrive to Piteå from Kosta. My mother and I decided I would move to her because I couldn’t live with my father.

The day before my mother arrived I woke up by my grandmother talking on the phone crying. My father had a stroke and he was at the hospital. My first reaction was that he was going to be fine. But either way we went to the hospital and got to sit in a room. I refused to talk to anyone but my mother, my family tried speaking with me. I went into my father’s room a couple times but everytime I freaked seeing him to being able to talk or to move. When our eyes met I could really feel that he didn’t want me there.

During that night my mother arrived. The next day we moved my stuff into the car before we went back to the hosptial. I tried once again going into his room but once again I freaked out and ran out to the elevatiors looking for my mother. My father’s girlfriend’s daughter ran after me.

Mom and I got ready to leave. We went to our cabin outside Sollefteå. But I can’t remember if we were there a day or two.

The day we were ready to leave my mother stood by the car with a look on her face I never had seen before. I asked her what was going on and she said nothing. So we left.
Later we stopped at a gasstation and I bought a magazine, some candy and a red bull. When I got back out to the car my mother stood leaning against the car with the same look on her face so I asked her again what was going on and she told me “you are going to hate me if I don’t tell you now. Your grandmother called, he didn’t make it”. My world came crashing down and I started crying and screaming all at once. I threw myself in the car and my mother threw herself after me to catch me. Mother held me while I cried.

Later that day I called a few people close to me to tell that my father didn’t make it. I decided with a friend that she would follow me to my father’s funeral. It didn’t take long before she canceled. She had something more fun to do. So me and my childhood friend decided she would follow instead.

Before the funeral we got to see my father in his coffin. I was to scared of the corpse to hug what used to be my father.

My mother had planned the funeral, the only things I really decided was the music during the ceremony and what was going to stand on his tombstone.  The obvious song choice for me was Green Day’s Wake Me Up When September Ends and on the stone it says Beloved father, son, brother.

As soon as I stepped into the curch I broke into tears. I stood by the coffin crying during the music and while people lighted their candle for my fahter. When we went outside to lower the coffin into the ground my legs wouldn’t carry and I sat down infront of the hole. I didn’t say a few words, while everyone looked at me I just threw down my rose. My mother and my childhood friend tried pulling me back up on my legs. I didn’t join the get together after the funeral, I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want to smile because he lived, I just wanted to run away from the problem which was exactly what I did.

My relationship with my father was complicated and there was alot that happened, he treated me very badly but he was my father and at first I didn’t know how to live without him, I still don’t.

The loss of my father sent me into a even deeper depression than the one I suffered when he was alive. The first year after his death I had alot of nightmares and I woke up kicking, screaming, hitting and crying.
The dreams were always similar. My father died, we burried him. When we got back to my grandmother’s house he was alive. Standing on her porch. Sometimes he’d admit that he died others he didn’t know. I still have those dreams sometimes, and everytime I get a moments confusion if he really died or not.

In the begining my mother was my rock. She comforted me, came running when I woke up screaming.

It was after he died I took my first overdose. ‘Cause I wanted to be with him, a reason of why I keep trying to kill myself is because I don’t know how to live without him. I don’t want to live without him.