If I choose to kill myself

A letter to whom it concerns.

If I chose to kill myself. My guess is that I drove home drunk and drove off a bridge or some shit. Maybe I overdosed on something from the box of drugs in dads closest, or maybe I suffocated to death. That would be ironic, since I have asthma. Haha.
This is def not a laughing matter. My death that is. But if the reader ever knew me, they know that I used humor to cure everything.
...well not everything cuz I clearly killed myself if you're reading this.
It's time to tell the truth. The whole truth. And nothing but the truth. I will not let out a single detail that I have kept hidden in my ever so fucked up life.
Let's start from the beginning.

My father, a convulsed sociopath, married a women he met in Medical School in Russia. They moved to England to become doctors. My father wanted to become a surgeon (being the deranged man that he is) but instead became an internist so that his wife could persue her dreams of becoming an anesthesiologist. (Who the fuck does that btw?) My demented father held this grudge against her for their marriage, and emotionally abused his wife and his new born daughter to the point that his wife killed herself and left him and his then four year old daughter alone. Honestly I don't blame her for killing herself. He is the main reason I'm sure I will as well. But how could she leave her daughter with the monster? That I will never understand. If I kill myself I hope I'm still young and haven't left a mark on too many people. It hurts too much.
So now this jackass moves back to his home country , Sri Lanka, with his daughter, and immediately gets set up in an arranged marriage. I'll get back to that later.

I'm unsure how I will feel about my mother when I kill myself, but I do love her. She lived in a poor family from Sri Lanka, and never went to college. Her first marriage was extremely physically abusive. It's some taboo thing to divorce people, because in Sri Lanka it means you're gonna be forever alone or some shit.
Because of this, her siblings forced her to get married again and that's how she met my dad.
They literally only wrote letters to eachother for six months and then got married. My mom traded in a physically abusive dirt bag for only a semi abusive shit-face-excuse-for-a-husband. But at least she had a child. I think my sister (half sister if we're talking biologically, her mom is the one that killed herself) was the only reason she stayed with my dad. I think she was genuinely scared what would happen to my sister if my mother left him.

So together my mother, my father, and my sister move to America. Dad gets his residency done at an Ivy League School, and my mother is left as a dependent housewife, and my sister copes with her crippling depression at six years old by suppressing it. My mom gets pregnant with me, my dads upset because he doesn't want another kid, and treats her like shit.
Once I'm born, my badass mother realizes that she's in a shit situation and decides to go to community college so she won't have to rely on my father. He constantly threatens to take away all his money from the family and "kill himself" so he won't have to deal with us.

The first eight years of my life really suck. I can't comprehend how my sister dealt with our home life and still managed to be super social and smart and pretend like everything was okay.
My father would have a breakdown almost every week. He'd yell and threaten to kill us/himself. He would terrorize me and my sister by telling us that our mother was trying to turn us against him, and drink a bottle of scotch or bourbon every night. The final straw was when I was in first grade or kindergarten. My mother was going to night school so she couldn't make it to my sisters piano recital. My sister started crying because she didn't want my dad to come, and my dad started yelling and my mother calling her an "evil stepmother." Now being six years old, I didn't know my sister was my half sister, and my sister sent me to my room and made sure I didn't see what was happening. She did this because if a child witness a fight or any physical abuse the social services would take you away. I can still remember hearing my father beat my mother and her bloodcurdling scream. She was holding a glass cup so tight that it crack and shards of glass cut her arm. She ran upstairs so my bathroom to wash it off and all I could see was my mother crying and washing her blood soaked hands. My sister calls the police and my father gets arrested. My mother is flipping shit because he was going to lose his medical license and my sister and I would go to foster care. She begs a family friend to get him out of jail but it stays on his permanent record. Ten years later I am 15 years old when I write this and i can still her my mothers screams and her blood staining my pajamas. I will never forget
My fathers roaring voice before he attacks my mother and my sister grabs me to hold me back from running to her. My mom packs our bags and my sister and I live with my aunt for a month and a half. My mom finally gets a restraining order on my Dad and tries to file a divorce. When we get back, my dad has moved into an apartment near our house and we stay at home. He refuses to sign the divorce papers and my mother fears we will have to testify. My father hires a private investigator to follow my mother around because he believed that the only way she would leave him is because she was cheating and had another man to take care of us. My mother realizes that if the divorce goes through my father will have shared custody and my sister and I would have to spend time alone with him, which as you can tell, is not safe. My mom decides not to divorce him and let's him move back in because he spent some time away from us and she can take care of us even if he's around. I think this was the biggest mistake she ever made. She stayed with him so her children would be financially stable, but I will never recover from the traumatizing scars he has given me.

I am now a teenager and my father is slightly better. He only has a breakdown about twice a year and only fights with my mom about once a year. He still drinks heavily everyday but he won't bother us if we don't talk to him after about 7:00 pm. I now have general anxiety disorder, experience depersonalization, dissociation, depression, and insomnia. My mother says that he won't hit her again due to his permanent record but every time he yells at her I swear it's that night all over again. I go to a psychologist now, she helps me cope but I haven't told her even a fourth of my life story because I fear she will have to tell social services. I really do love my mom. I could not leave her. But you see my horrible dilemma. People always tell me on the internet that it will be better once I leave for college, but I'm terrified to leave my mother in fear that my father will hurt her again. She most likely won't divorce him because I need him to pay for college. I don't know how to deal with this pain. If I really do kill myself, and you're reading this, I hope my pain will end. I've heard alcohol makes you feel better about these things but I don't want to turn into my dad. Maybe I'm too young to die, but I was too young to feel all of this anyway.

Will keep you updated.