Why My Dad Killed Himself
Right after Thanksgiving dinner, my father poured a glass of wine for his wife Karen and gave her a kiss. Then he went out, as he often did, to sit on the pier and enjoy the city lights reflecting on the ocean.
The next morning, after looking all over the house for him, Karen found my father in the garage, hanging by his neck from the rafters.
He did not leave a note. The family is in shock. They can’t understand why a healthy, fit man who had everything would commit suicide.
At age 63, my father spent the better part of his days on his sailboat, tooling around the harbor, racing other sailors, and coaching disabled kids. He had a comfortable retirement income while his much younger wife worked part-time. They were happy.
Dad was famous — briefly and locally — thirty years ago as an Olympic athlete. In the past decade, he won the world sailing championship in his class for three years running. He was applauded for his volunteer service at the local yacht club. His friends and colleagues remember him as a pillar of the community, a champion, and a highly intelligent, educated man who didn’t mind hanging out with the common people.
Family secrets
I remember my father as a cruel and emotionally disturbed man who dealt out pain and punishment to his wife and children whenever it suited him. He started with me before I was old enough to talk. When I was seven years old, I made a sassy remark and he knocked me down, grabbed me by the hair and pounded my head against the floor until I passed out. It wasn’t the first time he beat me unconscious, nor was it the last.
We never discussed the beatings. Not even when I had a breakdown and tried to commit suicide at age 12. Or when I tried again at age 14. That year, he tried to smack me around one more time. I finally fought back and delivered one hard and fast punch to his solar plexus that doubled him over. That was when my parents decided to hand over custody to the authorities, who determined I would serve an indefinite sentence in a mental hospital.
My parents agreed with the juvenile court that I was delusional, a pathological liar, violent, immoral and incorrigible. That meant everyone could comfortably ignore my accusations of abuse and neglect, and when I raised the issue with counsellors and court workers, they took my statements as more evidence of my illness. Of course, this was the 1970’s, when child abuse was not often recognized as a serious or widespread problem.
I spent my teenage years in a locked ward at a mental institution, while my parents carried on with their lives as respected members of the community, coping bravely with the burden of a sick and demented child.
Multi-generational trauma
Of all those who knew him, I may be the only one who is not surprised at my father’s suicide. The family’s deepest secret is the death of my paternal grandmother when my dad was in his twenties. She was depressed and drinking heavily, and one day my grandfather packed his bags and told her he was leaving her. Soon after, she swallowed a bottle of prescription pain killers and washed them down with a bottle of wine.
When I finally understood the mystery of my grandmother’s death, it struck me that my father might take his life the same way. He, too, was an alcoholic who suffered from depression. Fifteen years ago, in a rare moment of candor, he told me he was tormented by guilt about the way he treated my sister, my mother, and I. Then he changed the subject. It was the second to last time I saw him, and he never mentioned it again.
My father’s drinking habits didn’t raise many eyebrows down in Florida. Every day, he would crack open his first beer before noon and drink steadily until he stumbled into bed at midnight. But there was nothing unusual about that. Sailors love their grog, and the yacht club was known for its weekly keg parties and prodigious boozing.
The last time I saw my father was September 15, 1999. He picked me up in Vancouver and we drove up to Whistler. We sat on the patio in the late summer sun, ordered burgers and beers and talked about nothing. He stared in puzzlement at the massive hotels, construction crews, traffic jams, raw earth and fresh asphalt, trying to reconcile this scene with his memories of a rustic little village tucked away in the wilderness. The pub’s speakers pumped out Welcome to the Boomtown.
I made my peace with my dad years ago. After the visit to Whistler, he sent me a couple letters, but we never spoke again. With the help of a trauma counsellor, I was able to work through the pain of my childhood and the grief of my father’s rejection.
I spent Thanksgiving weekend trying to comfort his wife, my mother and my sister. I told them no one could have known what he was planning, since we can’t read minds or predict the future. Even if we could, who has the power to fix someone who is broken?
I don't think there is much anyone can do but to feel bad for you and your relations. Its hard. Its hard to fight for the living and wonder if things can have been better than they really are.
Write here or me to keep us in touch. You need much help too to get throught this.
We can't stop homelessness but we can help fight it.
FreddieCrazyThingCalledLove
Someone, somewhere, near Seattle
suicide. she was 32. i was called in to clear out her stuff. ancient and i went.
how many people are dieing and we know nothing about it. ancient wanted to get police reports or even reports from al at open door. We don't know how many people are being killed by depression. or by the bad food. people die and we never hear about it. i personally think their is an epidemic of depression and it's being covered up.
For me the system of slavery under false lords ,land lords, debt lords and lords of the court and lords of hordes of bill collectors is enough to make one have a bad day every day. We need to kick the bankers out of town. the belief in the money beast. money is mind made and therefore can be unmade.we really do not need it. it's a totally corrupt system with the biggest crooks getting all the say. do this do that. everyone is taking orders. For what. Survival under slavery. no wonder people get worn out. tony jones committed suicide on salt spring because i told him the by law officer, Officer officer told me i could not have more then 3 unrelated people living in a house . the system is fucked and when i went to the churches i was threatened with arrest for speaking out .
it's only going to get worse until we do something about it.
tent city is a good start.
if you do not know what to do and want to talk about it call me david 246 1599.
love the only cause
Still, I and many others' feel helpless. I too worry and wonder if I can pull through my own life as it is. Now I have a little hope of a new but short term job.
Day by day, is such a simplestic way of thinking of things, of the future. It helps when you have a support, even like Homeless Nation.Org, just to air things out, to play and most of all to hope of better things to come.
BUt why isn't it enough? WHy isn't the love of a father to a dughter, or a mother to a daughter, between me and my dad (who is a hero of mine) not enough to live for? Why does the hope of anting to be held and love and when that doesn't happen a hormonal upset sparks brain cells into thinking morbid thoughts and actions?
It is more then just chemistry, it is still a mystery.
We can't stop homelessness but we can help fight it.
FreddieCrazyThingCalledLove
Someone, somewhere, near Seattle
Hey David
What do you think of the idea of having a Woodstock Wesr Revival?
The possible date would be for Sept 2008 (labor day weekend)
Apart of the vision is to have a international tent city at the border. Help is need in order to put on this event. There are very few pwople from the US who want to see this event happen. This I think woulf be a great way to send a message accross to both countries the plight of the homeless who know no borders of countries, class, race , gender or agism.
and then i hear someone say one is enough if it is the right one. i think that is the key; the right one. woodstock? last year, it was al gore i thought was going to do it.before that their were a thousand more. not one was able to do what was necessary. over xmas i tried another time. no one shows up or rather ten people show up in a hall good enough for 200 . the people are still too comfortable. on xmas here i was told there were 5 xmas dinners in victoria . i went to two.was the spirit present, yes to some degree as it always is . was i enthusiastic enough to think this is it? not even close.what is the problem ?very few people are watching the overview. it's survival now and no time for considering the long term impact. the most aware people of this time are impacking me with "it's all perfect" change is impossible. the mass to be moved is too great.let it go. balance your own mind and leave be what you cannot do.all the now people. visionaries are on a lonely path . they see what is coming down the line of the future.and they do what they can to alter it when they see disaster coming.
will the people listen ? At this time they are not. or let me say," not enough are'
EVERY ONE COUNTS and they do . and in my mind i hear. i am never satisfied. sure i have a perfect time right now. i have a business , i have land , i have everything i need today and for perhaps the near future. What is wrong? it's all a lie .no one owns the land , so the base of security of home is false.
all past revolutions have been based on the control of territories and people. divide and conquer , rule or be ruled, your either a slave or a master and their are very few masters, just about all are slaves. we need to have another revolution. it does not have to be based on a lie,"david arthur johnston", of course not. this could be the time . the turn around. for real.
the signs are all around us. everything is in a state of collaspe. perhaps just entrophy,a natural occurance and perhaps it is what we are doing , the way we are living on the earth.
i do not like to read too many words and this could go on a long time . the right one to support right now is truly the gathering , wherever it is happening . It's when the people come together we realize were all on the same earth. it's how were here thats important. how Israel and Palestine are together ,yet how are they together; In a war? or are we really here in peace and can their be any peace as long as were living under the tyranny of money and government that lives off of the crime of the theft of land from the creator.
love the only cause david
Sorry David, I disagree, I think we can and will have enough people to pull off the Tent City at the Peace Arch Way. For one thing, there is a large and it is growing larger everyday the homeless here. Think about it, Forclosers on signal and multi homes/ houses are growing and where are those people going? Loo-loo, Lobby(/) just wrote about the hardships of a working class person making 7.00/hr and trying to raise a household in on that wage.
Once I get my job thing going, so I can have gas enopugh to get to the Kirkland Homeless / Tent City, I can start making in roads to make the event happen. We have OUR local bands, our homeless musical bands to share. It will be a news event. One I'm sure we can make happen.
Don't tell me it can't happen, I just have to work harder to prove you wrong.
We can't stop homelessness but we can help fight it.
FreddieCrazyThingCalledLove
Someone, somewhere, near Seattle
Yes David of course there is way way enough people to do this...(wink,wink)thks Freddy your a strong link to the show going on..Solidarity..JH