Izak's Journey: A Tribute to His Father

My Dad was extraordinary, capturing the hearts of everyone around him with his wit and ingenuity. He was always hands-on, constantly creating and building—whether it was crafting a self-watering plant system for my grandma on a whim or constructing boats out of scraps to race down the river, embodying the spirit of a big kid at heart. Though he often showed me tough love, he truly cared about me.

The smell of car garages and the sight of certain old cars instantly makes me feel like I’m with my dad. Having owned a car garage, dad was always scruffy, but handsome also. his appearance was marked by ripped t-shirts, checkered fleece jackets, or a leather motorbike jacket. Stone-washed jeans stained with oil and worn dealer boots. He was rugged, but always larger-than-life to me.

Dad was an amazing father to me and my sister Georgia. We always felt loved and safe with him, even during his struggles. When I was 14, Dad was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. Though I didn't fully understand the severity, I noticed fluctuations between his hyperactive and low moods. Visiting him in the mental hospital was quite a surreal experience, as he seemed perfectly normal. He would always joke and act as if he were fine and everyone else had the problems. I never really noticed anything wrong with my dad.

One of the last memories I have with Dad is from when I had just turned 18. We went to the pub together and played pool. We shared a few pints and hung out with a couple of my friends. Dad really got involved; he even made me take a vodka shot with Tabasco sauce in it! He seemed genuinely happy, always smiling and never showing signs of being down or sad. It was a moment I will always remember.

I never thought my dad would take his own life. I didn’t realise how serious things were until I was sitting on the kitchen worktop at my mum's house and she told me he was gone. I had just come back from the gym; it was a normal day for me. I will never be able to fully explain what I felt in that moment—numb. Even 10 years on, it still feels like some kind of sick joke. Denial set in for weeks, months, years if I’m being completely honest.

Coping with Dad’s death led me down a dark path. I turned to alcohol, drugs, and violence, masking my pain with short-term happiness or outlets to get me through. I had completely emotionally withdrawn; I was so angry, I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I didn’t speak to my family about it for years. We haven’t even spread Dad’s ashes yet because I couldn’t bear talking about it.

But over the past 12 to 18 months, with the unwavering support of my partner, I began to open up more. Her tough love and acceptance of my emotions helped me navigate the grief.

Now, I've found solace in my career as a barber. My job has been an unexpected form of therapy for twelve years, surrounded by friends and supportive clients. My 10-year-old son, Carter, brings me immense joy, reminiscent of my bond with my dad.

In honour of my dad, I have taken on a unique challenge—a unicycle ride. My dad had planned this unicycle ride to raise money for charity, for a friend of his who was diagnosed with cancer. Riding a unicycle across the country was the only way he could think to raise money. Riding a unicycle was Dad's party trick, which he taught me and Georgia as kids. Dad was so excited about completing the challenge. He planned everything out. He bought two unicycles, a map of the UK, and a pink cape to wear, and he was ready to go! In many ways, I think the planning of the event became too much for him and was one of the reasons he experienced his final major decline before he took his own life. Strangely, I feel like my dad left me the challenge to complete as a way to bring me closure. Dad and I always challenged each other, and I feel like he didn't finish this, so I would have to do it for him.

Hopefully, doing this will give me a sense of peace and help others like my dad survive and help people like me cope.

By undertaking this ride, I aim to raise awareness and support for others struggling with mental health and thoughts of suicide, offering them the hope and resilience I wish my dad had found.