On Christmas Day I went to message family and friends wishing them best wishes. I was on holiday in Mexico so had limited access to my phone etc… this is when I found out that on the 23rd December 2019 my little brother (33yrs) had jumped off a bridge into tidal water . My world went from me in second. His body was finally found on the 15th January 2020. I’ve never felt pain like it I’m totally heartbroken. The days seem to be getting harder as the realisation grows more and more everyday. I have to be thankful that he was found to give me closure but things just seem so hard! He struggled with mental health but he didn’t show much emotion (like myself) he struggled to share his feelings. We worked together everyday and now I have this huge hole in my life. Thankfully before I went on holiday I had told him I loved him and I’m always here for him no matter what! I loved him so much and we had such good memories together all our life. My life will never be the same again , all I can do is believe that he is waiting for me and we will meet again , his mind is finally at rest and peace. It’s just so hard to carry on, people say it does get easier but I honestly will never get over this loss!

My brother committed suicide on 10th of January 2020th. He chose the least painful method – carbon monoxide poisoning. Our family is filled with grief, confusion and anger which seem to increase every single day. I miss him and I love him more than anything in the world, I wish I told him I loved him more and showed more emotion. I’ll always picture him with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other, smiling, from ear to ear.
Hold on people, rough times will pass. Remember how your passed brother or sister made you a better person and hold onto that. Remember them by the traits they gave you and live on.

I lost my brother to suicide 15 years ago when I was 8 years old. He was much older than I was and struggled with alcoholism and addiction. He was not around a lot and I struggle to remember much from that age. Sometimes I feel guilty because I know there are people who had much more time and a much stronger relationship with the sibling they lost, than I had with mine.
As I’ve entered adulthood, I’ve started to struggle more with his death than I did when it actually happened and have started to see the effects it’s had on my relationships as I’ve gotten older. I found this site and I think I needed to vent to an audience that could understand and maybe help me feel a little less crazy that even with limited memories and a lot of time, I still can’t seem to shake the feeling of abandonment. I know there was little I could do to help at such a young age, but all I can think is “I wish I had been enough”.
I really wish I had had more time with him. I still think about him everyday and what it would be like to really know him.

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.