I lost my brother to suicide on February 1st 2019, I was only 12 years old. I still am 12 years old. He was found on February 2nd, that was day my life fell apart. I would not like to go into detail about how, why, and multiple other things in respect of his privacy. (He was a very private person, also paranoid) but one thing I will always remember about that day is the call. I was out with my friends roller skating. Crazy enough that same night I almost hyperextend my knee, I thought that it was the worst thing that could happen that night. Little did I know I was so terribly wrong. I remember calling my mom and saying that I needed her to come get me. Then when it had been about 15 minutes I called her in pain asking where she was, I honestly thought something was wrong and I was worried about her being hurt. Looking back now I was right but it was a wrong type of hurt. I called her again when it had been almost an hour. That’s when I was told my brother had been missing for the past 6 and a half hours. I was already crying from my knee but suddenly I was out. Not passed out but I realized about 3 months later that I was having a panic attack. I couldn’t really hear it was muffled and covered by my thoughts, I could see for I was crying hysterically. Friends didn’t know what happening since I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Finally when I got my words out they just went silent I don’t blame them I didn’t know what to say in that moment either. There not very much more in my story that I feel comfortable sharing except for one thing. When you think of your siblings you think of them in the way you remember the happy, exciting, always full of life people. Then suddenly when you see them laying in their coffin it’s like that’s the only thing you can see. One final thing. And I don’t know if other people can relate to this or if they can’t it really just depends on the way the person passed, but when you look at photos you see one person and when you see they in their caskets you see another. I remember I started to have a small panic attack and all I could keep saying was it doesn’t look like him, it’s not him, no this isn’t him, they put too much makeup, why do you look different, this isn’t ok, and more that I can’t think of. Thank you for listening to my story.

My sister hung herself almost a year ago. She actually succeeded at age 45 to end her life. She had made attempts since age 15. Dad was a senior police officer, mom abandoned us when we were teens only to re-enter our lives when we were older. I’m feeling so angry at my parents. They didn’t help her enough growing up to get her the help she needed. They were too preoccupied with their own lives. I miss my big sis so much, but find I’m so angry at my parents. Anyone else feel this?

It is too bad that he doesn’t see that I am who I am because of who he was. I mean most of the stuff that I am interested in and even things that have led me to the jobs that I’ve had are because of him and it’s crazy that he never saw that.

When we were younger my parents got him a brand new computer, a DOS based computer, not one of these fancy computers we have these days. We learned how to create and play games on these older computers that I’m talking about. You would have to buy a book and actually code in the game, save it to a cassette tape or a floppy disk if you are lucky enough to have one, and then you can play it after it’s done loading after dinner.

We sat there for hours and hours for days and weeks months and years learning how to use that computer, long before everybody else was learning.

For fun he and I used to take VCRs apart just to see how they worked; fortunately since our family owned a video store we were able to clean not only our company VCRs but we were able to charge customers to clean theirs long before there was a service or a tape you can stick in to do it for you.

I wouldn’t know anything that I know about speakers and sound systems and cars and everything that I’m interested in if it wasn’t for him. It is horrifically interesting how unimportant the ones that leave us behind think they are, they just can’t see how special they are. There isn’t one thing in my life that I do that doesn’t have anything to do with him in one way or another.
Perhaps those of us that are still here should recognize that we have that same power.

I lost my brother on August 11th 2019. The police came to my door and I had to notify my family. I’m broken to this day. He hung himself overseas. I now have no contact with my niece and nephews overseas because of his ex-wife. I’ve lost a brother and three children and I have so much hatred to his ex it’s making my insides curl. I’m sad. I’m angry. My family is a mess. I’m terrified of the thoughts that go thru my head. I’ve been to counseling and have joined group therapy starting Jan 14, 2020. This has just been the most horrible thing and I don’t know how I will make it through and have a “happy life” now. I’m just beat down and feel alone. I’m just spent.

So many posting about guilt. I get it.
After some years I came to understand my brother made a bad choice in a desperate moment. His pain and exhaustion were just too much. He shared himself with us as long as he could.

Several years later, a therapist asked what I thought my brother wanted for me. Without thinking about it, these words came out of my mouth, “Peace. He wants me to be at peace.” It has been more than 30 years and I still believe that.

Look for a moment of goodness. Your posting to this site is an act of goodness. None of us want to be here, but your posting has/will help someone else. When we can generate goodness from this tragedy, healing begins. It is a long road, but you can find your new life.

When I was 17 and a senior in high school my brother committed suicide. He was 14 years old and was going into his freshmen year of high school. After he passed away I watched my parents relationship turn hostile towards one another and unfortunately I was left in between as a pawn to use against the other. Personally I found sanctuary in sports, using baseball as an escape from my reality, but as one may guess I could not totally escape. No longer was I Jake, as much as I was the kid who’s brother committed suicide over the summer to my peers at school. Eventually I went to college and walked on to the baseball team, again finding some sort of activity I was familiar in to use as an escape. Unfortunately however I am in my fifth year of college and as my sports career begins coming to an end, a lot of the emotions and things I may of repressed without being entirely aware of are coming to the surface. Truthfully I come from an environment of emotional dysfunction, I have seen my mom attempt to commit suicide, my father is narcissistic, my brother is dead, and I am scared and lost. I feel like I have no role models and I don’t really know how I’ve made it this far exactly. It seems like the foundation I have come from is so intertwined with my reality today, it’s like I’m playing a game of poker poker with a bad hand that I gotta bluff my way to winning with. So I guess of late I have decided to fold, expressing my truths to my family members with mixed results. I guess I will end this post with the fact that I am lost. Over the 5 years since my brother has died so much dysfunction has occurred, not even to mention the dysfunction within my family when he was alive. I am scared that the cards in my hand are broken, that people will see me as a broken person who comes from broken people and that’s who I will be remembered as. Not as Jake.

Several years later and I don’t feel better. I never will. I miss my brother and nothing will ever change that. There are moments when I feel joy, and I feel him with me. I know he wants that for me and those he loved on earth. I know he doesn’t want me to cry every time I think of him. But, I do. Every. Single. Time. I might hold back the tears, but they are there. I gulp them down, and force a smile. I feel abandoned, and I never won’t feel that way. But he tossed himself away more than he tossed me away, and the pain of that is unbearable. He was so loved. SO LOVED BY ME. Worshipped. To the end of time, I will remain devoted to his memory and the times we shared. I will always love him. I feel him now with me. He is around. I just wish I could talk to him and hug him and laugh with him and tell him I am sorry I ever let him down. He deserved more and better then he got. So much more. I hope there is an after life and all his dreams are coming true. I love you, my brother. I miss you, my brother. Always.

Today I found my brother in his room haven taken his own life. He was 35…18 months older then me. He has battled with mental health for years and recently been struggling. I was worried over the weekend as I couldn’t get hold of him and he didn’t turn up for work today. Went to his flat where I let myself in to find him. Been scrolling through some sites which have seemed to calm my emotions a bit and help with some of my new feelings…

I was playing League of Legends at 4:00 am when my mother opened her door and said my name “Humberto”. At first I thought she was going to tell me I had to go to bed, but her next words were different… As I was still playing, I didn’t look at her until she finished her sentence… “Your brother hanged himself”.
I turned around to look at her, I was cold, I was in shock. I even told the game chat I had to go because my brother hanged himself – I couldn’t think clearly. My brother he killed himself. He was living in other country, we couldn’t attend his funeral, and burial. I feel so bad because he was coming to live with us next year. I didn’t talked too much with him, but I loved him. I met him when I was 14. He was one of my father’s kids, before me and my sisters. He was my only male sibling. I can’t stop thinking about why he did it. I can’t believe it happened either. I just hope he is in peace now, and happy. He deserved better, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help him.