I’m the reason behind my dad’s death and it’s eating me alive.

No one in my family will admit it but I’m pretty sure that I’m the reason behind his death.

My dad died a year ago. He wasn’t the best provider nor the most present parent. He was neglectful and he has been physically abusive at times. Your typical Asian dad.

I was his favorite child but realizing how the years of abuse and neglect affected me made me visibly resentful towards him. My mental health went on an all time low. A few years of this ordeal, his body gave up and he dies of a heart complication. It’s like he has given up living his life and stopped caring about himself.

Maybe if I was more nicer, more understanding, and more caring towards him. Or if I had reminded his meds and prepared his meals more often. Maybe avoiding much conversation was too harsh? Maybe if I just agreed to play chess with him when he asked me. I feel like I robbed my siblings the dad that they loved.

I don’t fucking know anymore. This thing is getting into me and my depression is getting worse. I genuinely don’t know what to do with all this burden. I’m so tired of living.