NaNoWriMo from 11/1 and my Dad

Okay, so yesterday wasn’t too good for writing. I only got 979 words in. However I was also an emotional mess.

Over and over again yesterday I kept thinking about my father. I kept remembering how I found him slumped over in his chair, tongue protruding and eyes closed. I remember the football game was on the TV and his portable fire was on as well. He was comfortable when he tried to kill himself.

As I was on the phone with 911 he started drooling and i knew I had found him right after he fell unconscious.

The EMTs came and it was then I realized it wasn’t a stroke, but a suicide attempt. I didn’t find the empty pill bottle until I left the hospital that night.

We live about 6 minutes from the closest hospital. Dad stopped breathing on the way there.

When the doctors checked his blood work they told me he had the highest Tylenol level they had ever seen. Yes, Tylenol. by the way, don’t do that. it will kill you slowly. Very slowly. The problem for my dad was that he took the PM variant in a large enough dose that the diphenhydramine stopped his breathing.

I was so angry.

Even more so when I found out that he had been asking people for a gun. My brother, two of my neighbors. And no one told me. I didn’t realize he was that ready to kill himself.

It took me a long time to get over being angry, and sometimes I still get angry.

He killed himself on my watch, even though I blocked his actual attempt. Guilt is bad. And comes back to haunt you at the most inopportune times.

Like when you are trying to write for NaNoWriMo.

Thanks for letting me spill my guts.




1 Comment

Filed under author, love, NaNoWriMo, thinking process, writing

One response to “NaNoWriMo from 11/1 and my Dad

  1. I stopped my father from committing suicide this time last year, but it was literally by less than a minute. If I hadn’t found his note before he’d intended me to…..

    It does come back to haunt you. For us it’s never really left. Someone stays with him almost constantly. He says he’s fine now, but who knows what the winter holds? I’ve turned my anger and grief into my writing, though. My first novel opens with the MC’s twin committing suicide. That anger and grief fueled the book, pushed the plot, developed the characters, and drew out some of the most beautiful prose I’ve ever written.

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