recat
That is my brain.
- Mar 1, 2024
- 35
My father died during holy week of 2022. He was in and out of ER dozens and dozens of times, suffering a lot, not only by a divorce, i can imagine, but also by his daughter cutting off ties with him. He was a well and proper engineer with a masters in computer science, and it was his passion really, yet regardless of his high level of inteligence, an having severe diabetes, he would absolutely not give up on eating sweets and precisely everything his doctors told him he should absolutely not eat.
Nobody in the highly religious family views it as a suicide, instead just as a tragedy, but after analyzing his life with all the documents i have inherited from him, studying his life immensely, it leads me to believe that maybe all of this was not just a mere addiction to sugar and carbs, but instead an attempt to have a socially acceptable suicide.
On his last night, he was taken to ER for treatment of some of the recurring problems, and then discharged only to die that very same night in his sleep. Afterwards, even though diabetes caused him near total blindness in both eyes, it was found that the had somehow managed to get a huge stash of chocolates, cookies, sweets of every kind.
It always makes me wonder, was his death just an elaborate very well thoughtout plan for suicide? I think so... I want to go out like him, to join him, wherever he might be, if after life is real or not.. i don't care.. i just want to join him. Now I have also lost all the people that matter most to me.. my partner of 12 years?? has left me suddenly, alone in the home.. then my absolute closest friend did to.. because im just "too depressed".. now I have nobody left either, other than friends who try their hardest to cheer me up, but of course... it doesn't really help.. at all..
It's been nearly two years and ever since his death I feel like a part of my soul has died, he was the favourite, my mother abused me for telling her i way gay at age 14, punished me, treated me like i was filled with demons, but my father.. he was clinical about it.. he didnt personally care.. he just wanted me to succeed and wanted me not to go to hell, but nothing more.. and now he is gone, and I think, by his own will. I want to do the same so much. My psychiatrist tried to make me promise not to do it, but I declined.
Nobody in the highly religious family views it as a suicide, instead just as a tragedy, but after analyzing his life with all the documents i have inherited from him, studying his life immensely, it leads me to believe that maybe all of this was not just a mere addiction to sugar and carbs, but instead an attempt to have a socially acceptable suicide.
On his last night, he was taken to ER for treatment of some of the recurring problems, and then discharged only to die that very same night in his sleep. Afterwards, even though diabetes caused him near total blindness in both eyes, it was found that the had somehow managed to get a huge stash of chocolates, cookies, sweets of every kind.
It always makes me wonder, was his death just an elaborate very well thoughtout plan for suicide? I think so... I want to go out like him, to join him, wherever he might be, if after life is real or not.. i don't care.. i just want to join him. Now I have also lost all the people that matter most to me.. my partner of 12 years?? has left me suddenly, alone in the home.. then my absolute closest friend did to.. because im just "too depressed".. now I have nobody left either, other than friends who try their hardest to cheer me up, but of course... it doesn't really help.. at all..
It's been nearly two years and ever since his death I feel like a part of my soul has died, he was the favourite, my mother abused me for telling her i way gay at age 14, punished me, treated me like i was filled with demons, but my father.. he was clinical about it.. he didnt personally care.. he just wanted me to succeed and wanted me not to go to hell, but nothing more.. and now he is gone, and I think, by his own will. I want to do the same so much. My psychiatrist tried to make me promise not to do it, but I declined.