I'm sorry to post such a dark piece. When I was ten my father committed suicide. We weren't living together at the time, as my mother had divorced him long before it had happened. I had simply found out about it the next day, and we packed up to go to his funeral. I've never understood why people say that they look peaceful in death. there is no peace, only pain. I've never known how he committed suicide, only that he did. that may have contributed to a recurring nightmare I have had ever since his death, in which I see him **** himself in his room over and over again in different ways.