In 10 days it will be 36 years since my brother set himself on fire and lived for 43 days.

For the first three years I felt like I had to will every breathe I took. But that eventually got better. I used to wake up crying in my sleep. That finally stopped. In the beginning I didn’t think I could live in this crushingly sad place, but this life became my life. It is now my familiar life.

My brother’s suicide is still the worst thing that ever happened to me. But I have a full and productive life. I am in a helping profession and it matters.

All of us here share a tragic bond but we also share hope and strength. Keep coming back here. Keep sharing your stories. Keep taking that next breathe.