It often leads to an emotion of fear in most of us as death takes away somebody close to us away. A very striking fact of death is that it comes uninformed, for most people. It is difficult to be ready for it as it is the final moment of life, the last time one can be with his loved ones on Earth. We are not yet sure of what happens to a person after their death but they leave behind a legacy of their own, among their loved ones.
Guest Post by Matthew Warner Dear Dad, I never told you the details of my one-week stint in a psychiatric unit while in college.
I own my skeletons, unlike you. Characters who connect with readers on a gut level are more compelling than any supernatural horror I can imagine. Your fecal screed to me of — the last time you ever spoke to me — sits in my craw.
It is clear that when you were medicated during the incident at JMU, the change in your personality was obvious and positive.
A short-term prescription for Navane, an antipsychotic, is what fixed my wagon. What a wonder drug. You believe that inI had a psychotic episode, rooted in mental health issues I inherited from your own father. Of course, you never said you suffer from any issues yourself.
I guess manic depression is a recessive gene, huh? I was having a hard time adjusting to university life. I felt like an outsider. I was always lonely, desperate to fill the romantic void. I had deep feelings of social inadequacy that dated back to being bullied in elementary school.
Religion might have filled that void, but I was too turned off by the ugly Christian fundamentalism I encountered on campus. Worst of all, I was terribly anxious of contracting a sexually transmitted disease.
You were so judgmental. Shortly before my twentieth birthday, a friend and I went skiing in Canada during spring break. We smoked a little weed and hit the slopes.
Soon, I was not only skiing down the slopes, I was damn near doing cartwheels down them. When we got home, I came down with bronchitis.
I kept attending classes and not resting. Finally, I fainted during a music rehearsal at the Methodist youth fellowship. I fell backward off the piano bench and gave myself a concussion on the floor. The paramedics took me across the street to Rockingham Memorial Hospital.
They did a blood test, and guess what they found? They assumed I was a drug addict. Next thing I knew, I was in the fifth floor psychiatric unit. During the next week, the concussion and bronchitis improved, and as I came off the heavy medications they gave me, I started to feel like my old self.
I seized the opportunity to talk about my problems. I opened up about my anxieties and insecurities. I had private talks with a psychiatrist, who helped me browbeat myself into behaving more responsibly. Over the subsequent months, I may not have transformed into a happy, bushy tailed college boy, but I became a slightly more self-accepting one.
You never considered the possibility I may have taken a step toward maturity. We have issues to work out, you and I. When a writer taps dark emotions, it makes for better dark fiction.My temptation is to write him a letter updating him on what he's missed in my life since we've last spoken, but I don't know if that's even appropriate.
I'm mad and angry with him, but those feelings seem insignificant in comparison to the immense sadness and grief I feel over the loss of the dad I once knew.
Sweet Buddy~ It’s your birthday. Again. It would be a cliche for me to start this letter by telling you I don’t know where the last nine years of my life have gone, so I won’t. While writing about your students, I cannot even begin to tell you how you make a difference in your children.
Your children look up to you, believe in you and listen to you. You pursuing your dream, giving them a home and loving their mother makes a difference every single day in their life. Remember writing a sorry letter to your mom and dad is the best thing you can do after you have made a blunder.
It is a sweet way of acknowledging your mistake and promising your parents that you will not repeat it in future. I would like for you to read this letter to my son To My Son I don’t understand why you feel you need to use drugs. I am writing this because I feel my life, as well as yours, slipping away.
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Whether you’re a parent, relative, or friend of a camper, writing letters to camp can be easy, quick and fun.