“Whilst I knelt, I saw shoes, shoes attached to legs, attached to a body, arms, shoulders, a head with a noose around its neck. My father had hung himself. I jumped to my feet and tried to lift him, but I was never going to succeed. Even if I wasn’t writhing around in pain, I wouldn’t have been able to lift a six-foot-three, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound man. As I sat there clutching my neck, unable to call out for help, barely able to remain conscious it hit me like a train traveling a thousand miles an hour into a fucking brick wall. This wasn’t an accident. My father had taken me from my home
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