• what could it be..?
    i have been in this depressive funk for about a year now and it seems to have no end in sight...i believe it to have started back when my only father figure went to the hospital usually it wouldnt have been such a big deal but this time it was different he came over to our house because my mom offered him some dinner and she could tell that something was wrong with him just from his voice over the phone. As he walked through the door early that morning it came to my shock that his eyes were blood shot red and he was barely able to walk through the door. My mother took him to the hospital where he stayed for most of the winter and spring. During this time period i didnt get to see him as much as i would like because i was busy wrestling for my highschool(which now that i look back i regret). The first time i seen him in the hospital was the first time i cried in a long time. He looked like just a mere shell of his former self. Even when i grew up and became just as tall a man as he was i still had to look up to him. For the first time in my life i was looking down at him. I saw him i couple of times and shared conversations with him over the phone when we couldnt make it there. I mean i had faith in him, he had been to the hospital before this and eventhough this was the most serious time somewhere deep in my heart i just knew he would pull through and survive like he has been since 2000. For about 9 years he carried the burden the heavy cancerous burden on his back added and multiplied times taking care of two families. About a week before fathers day just me and my mother went to go see him. He was in a far worse state then he was the last time i saw him. He couldnt speak. As if his mind couldnt comprehend the words we said to him, and his lips couldnt form the movements to form the words we so longed for him to say. We knew it but choose not to speak of it...death was around the corner. Two days before fathers day was the day his internal and external suffering had ended. He died early that friday morning. I remember so vividly how the words my mother spoke didnt quite hit me and i didnt tell anyone until later on that night when i got jumped at a party. I was at a lost i didnt know what to do with myself. As a result i became an alcoholic. I am morbitly depressed, however because of my responsiblities i cant let that hold me down. In all my 17 years of living on this earth i never cryed over death. I tried to keep everyone at a distance, becuase of how my previous father treated me. They say that God takes those how he believe their jobs to be done...I dont believe my step fathers job was done he souldnt have been taken from us. You can call me selfish if you like but everyday he is gone i start to questions gods judgement. All that this did for me was make me more dependant and belligrent. Why did he have to die? What could it be?