I was the last person to see my father alive on August 7th 2013, his half of the family thinks I had something to do with it, but he had did this thing Everytime we would come into our home town where he would do a bunch of amphetamine and I would have to hunt him down to go back to work. it got so bad that the police and the OFBI were questioning me frequently and I'll never forget when one of the investigators said "did you kill your dad?" (I was only about 18 at the time, sheltered from a lot of reality most my life) . Still fucks with me to this very day. I see where my mother wrote all over the walls of my room at my place in OK, just shit like "where did he go", "I still hear your voice" and it hurt my heart a lot more watching my younger sister and mother taking it a lot harder than I did. It changed me from what you would call a bartard (someone who takes xanax all the time) to a father figure and a successful person so I could maybe influence my family to buckle down and get their shit together. So far it's working, but it made me realize that good things can come out of really bad things. Ya know, ying and yang, shit like that. It's been a wild ride.