Who's Gonna Watch You Die?

I'm pretty sure that's a line from a Deathcab song. Even so, I like it, and it sticks with me for some reason. I was out sick all week and I had a lot of time to reflect on my 25 years of depression and search for a cure.

I watched my dad die when I was 14 years old. He knew he was dying for months and he wrote lots and lots of letters to long lost friends and I can only remember one really awkward conversation that I had with him that whole time. I used to sit in his sick room and read and fidget, passing time and praying for deliverance.

It just struck me recently in talking with my roommate and my sister about this that he didn't write a letter to any of us kids. Not one single letter. I think that about sums up how I feel about my childhood right there. No relationship with my father whatsoever, and, well, too much of an intense connection with my mother.

So here I am, struggling to learn how to live and love, find a safe family of choice, and a healthy community of people to surround myself with. And I don't know why or how, but I am beginning to find it. Maybe it's just a kind twist of fate, or maybe it's because I am intentionally looking for it. Either way, it's amazing.