Facing my Greatest Fear

This post is for the ages of fourteen to eighty. It is a story that people can relate to, if they have lost a loved one. Facing your fear is what it takes to overcome it. Enjoy.

At the beginning it was a nightmare I played over in my head every night. I thought that something was wrong with me at first, but then I realized that I had been living through this nightmare because I could not accept it. When I was seventeen years old, my father committed suicide. It was difficult for my whole family, but particularly me because my father and I were the closest. He was my best friend, someone I confided in with all my life experiences.

When I first heard what happened I thought it was all a mistake. That they didn’t identify the man who jumped off the rocks into the crashing waves correctly. It couldn’t be him I kept repeating, why would he do that? His life was perfect, from what it seemed. He had a happy marriage, we were not poor, and he had me. Reality slapped me in the face when my father didn’t come home one day, then two days, then three days, and then a year.

After seeing so many doctors I came to the conclusion that they were no help. I appreciated their sympathy and comfort, but that was not what would help me overcome my nightmares. I never visited the crime scene of where it all happened; I just pictured it in my head. I couldn’t bear to see the spot where my father ended his life, where he unknowingly ended mine. Two years later and here I am. I never thought in a million years I would come to this horrific site. Here I am standing alone on a rock, maybe the rock he jumped from. I try to talk myself into heading back to the car, when I think of alternative option. What if my father jumped because life was harder than death? What if he jumped because the life he is living now, like the life the Bible describes when the world will come to its end is more exciting and peaceful. I decide to jump too. I slowly make my way closer to the edge of the slippery rock, the black crashing waves hitting against it with full force. Then suddenly I feel a warm breeze pass me. I feel as if someone is standing behind me, I turn around and my father stands with his arms behind his back and his head down. He looks like he is in pain. Dad? Is it really you? Bu-u-ut I thought you were…Dad? My father just looked at me and started to smile. Why are you smiling? You know we have all been worried sick about you don’t you? Mom is a wreck, and as for me, well you totally screwed my life up. How could you do this to us? He just kept looking at me and smiling. As I was about to say something he cut me off and told me that he loved me. He said that he did not commit suicide, that he was enjoying the black, crashing waves when he slipped and fell into the water. The waves were too strong for my father to fight. I stood there, my mind racing with millions of questions. Before I could ask any of them, he told me he loved mom and me and disappeared…