By Jeannette Dewazien on 10/29/2008
This loss still haunts me more than forty-five years later. In my head, I know it was only a rookie error in a ten-year-old game. The coach, my dad, just couldn’t see it that way.The look and verbal lashing he delivered after my miscue was scathing. There would be no popsicles or soft drinks on this night. I ran to the car, buried myself in the backseat and cried for nearly a half hour.He didn’t say a word on the ride home but my mom and I sensed his anger and hoped it wouldn’t erupt further. My dad was prone to verbal rage from which even the neighbors recoiled. This would be my first experience with depression as I remained secluded for nearly three days. I felt worthless. I prayed that I would not wake up the next morning. There was no appetite and no desire to see or speak to anyone. My head was in a fog and my heart felt like it was crushed. Looking back, I realize this was a terrible burden.Read More »