On January 1st 2019 It was a year since my brother took his life I still think everyday abot that night we got the news my other brother found him it was a horrible sight and ever since he is in a very bad condition I suffer everyday nothing brings me joy anymore but I gotta pretend I can’t talk about this to nobody out of my family they all suffer I dont wanna be a burden the worst thing is he took his life because he felt lost after he had a motorcycle crash 12 years ago and since then never was the same he was disabled 70% couldn’t work had no girlfriend was depending on others I cant even tell the whole story it is just so hard I cry every night I cant believe it I still see him hear his voice I hate that time goes by and everyday that passes is one more day that I will never be around him anymore he had the biggest heart even in his pain always found words to encourage others if he saw they were down even writing this is so hard I dont expect anything of it I just need to share with others that have the same pain although nothing can relive it.

In two weeks, it will be six years since I lost my sister to suicide. We grew up in a situation that without going into too much detail, no one should have to grow up in. Due to that and perhaps a predisposition to mental illness, leading to addiction to opioids she struggled throughout her late teens and early twenties. I tried over and over again to help her, so many times I thought we were close, but ultimately she took her own life. Because of the way we grew up, we dont really have “family”. I have no idea what it would even feel like to have parents. There was zero love in our home, but me and Tee loved each other. We had each other’s backs. I lost her 6 years ago and I just miss her so much. For some reason, as we get closer to the 6 year anniversary it just seems so much harder. I’m feeling (even though I know I wouldn’t actually do it) idealization of suicide, like if I did I’d get to see her again. I just needed an outlet and found this site.

Subject: Older brother took his life

My older brother, Peter, just took his own life 2 days ago and it has been very tough for me and my family to process. He was the second out of four boys, (we are all in our 30’s) and his death has me asking so many questions.
Our family is close but a has a harder time discussing emotions and how we really feel. Peter dealt with issues with alcohol and depression and went through waves of good times and bad times. I was the brother living closest to him for the last 4 years, and I can’t help but feel like I could have done more, or tried to reach out more frequently than I did over the years.
He had been in rehab and seemed to be doing better, but recently I haven’t been seeing him as much and wasn’t communicating with him as much. He consistently ignored calls and texts from me and my family, and never wanted to really do much with his life. I wish I had done more to reach out, and feel guilty and selfish about how everything has ended.

Monday was my birthday. My first birthday since losing my brother. My big brother. I realized, in the next few years, I will become older than him. I will be older than my big brother. I can’t stop crying. I’ve spent so much time trying to put together the pieces and figure out why he took his life. I only just now realized how much I miss him.

I lost my brother April 1, 2016 to suicide. I write this not for the pain that I, and I am sure each of you, feel daily but for a friend of mine going through a much harder time then me. Back in 2008 she lost a brother to suicide, then in Oct. 2018 another one, and then she found out today that another brother took his life. They were a family with 5 kids..now it is just 2. I know somewhat of the pain she feels since I lost my brother, but I don’t know how to help her. Would love any thoughts or suggestions y’all have. Just to let you know we don’t live in the same state. Thanks!

My brother left this plain of existence a year ago and it wasn’t until i saw his name carved into a headstone nearly a year later that my mind went into chaos. I was never OK but i did the typical Irish male thing and buried all my feelings as deep as possible so i could help my parents deal with the loss. I know this all sounds like I’m making it all about myself. It is all about Patrick who spent most of his life not feeling like he fitted in or was liked or loved. He was and always will be. He ended his life but not before he posted his final words on face book. They were and still are difficult to read. Facebook refuses to shut the page down or even just remove the post. Anyway I’m rambling on, all I can say he is missed and wish I could have helped him. But as anyone who has dealt with suicide knows only too well, we all wish we could have helped our loved ones.

They say it gets better with time, but I’m not so sure that will be the case because as the days go by, the permanence of your loss becomes more real. I still can’t wrap by head around how I will never see or laugh or fight with you again. My natural skepticism hinders me from truly believing in the afterlife and hoping to meet again, and that pains me. I want to believe, I really do, but I need proof. And I believe that if you’re out there, you will deliver that proof to me personally and clearly because you know that’s what I need, and because I’m you’re little sister you will take care of me even in your death. Lolo’s dream, though, does give me some hope. But how can I be sure? I was always afraid of false hope and disappointment, one of the reasons, I believe, I tucked all my emotions away and gave off this indifferent and cold front. I do feel alone now, like I’ve lost a part of myself. Our childhood experiences are our history, and I don’t know what to do. I’m angry and jealous at all the people who haven’t lost their sister, at how everyone can just move on except for our parents and myself. I want to make you laugh again, and I wish that brief happiness could stay longer and I could fix it with my silliness. It’s not fair. I’m not angry with you, I just miss you and wish we could have suffered together. Because I hurt a lot too – and I didn’t tell you, but maybe if you knew I hurt too then you could have carried on. But they say it’s a disease and that it causes an inability to rationalize any other alternatives. I guess that’s true and alleviates some guilt, but I hate alleviating guilt because what if it really was my fault? I do believe that I’m the one person who could have saved you. Because at least back in 2013, I was the most important person to you. I’m sorry for where 2018 brought us and the distance we experienced. I was busy with my own life and not caring about your suffering. I could have helped though, I really could have, if only I could have grasped the severity more. I knew you were getting worse, I said so, but I was angry and avoided it, like I tend to.

Dane. Broho. Hermano. Big brother.
Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you text? I would have been there in a matter of hours if you needed me. I’m so sorry I didn’t organize a family Christmas this year. I was overwhelmed with the obligations of the holiday. I felt tired and pulled in so many directions. I’m so mad that I didn’t reach out to you.
I just want to hug you one more time. Tell you one more time that you are the best and I love you.
I can’t believe I don’t have a big brother anymore. How is this possible? How has everything changed in one moment?
I’m sick thinking about how you died alone. God, I hope you didn’t suffer. God, please, I hope you didn’t feel pain.
I’m not just sad. I’m mad, too. I know you and your wife were having problems. I know you were separated. I wish you had told me. I wish you had reached out – come to visit. But divorce, while it sucks, can be worked through. You could have gone on to have a beautiful life. And what about your son? Our dad left a gaping hole…especially for you. His lack of presence caused us so much heartache. And now you’re gone too? And now he is another son without a father? How could you do that to him? How could you think that was best for him? He needs you. We all do. What the f*** Dane? Why?
Even in my anger I still love you. Even though I want to punch you for doing this, more than anything I want to hug you. I want to talk to you about what’s going on. About what’s hurting you. I want to know what you’re afraid of and why you feel alone.
I couldn’t have fixed it, but I could have been there. It would have been overwhelming, but I would have helped you through. I’m a f**** therapist for God’s sake. I could have helped you get into therapy. I could have helped you get on medication. I COULD HAVE F***** HELPED YOU. Why didn’t you trust me enough to ask for help?
It makes me sick thinking that your body is in a morgue right now. I don’t like that you’re alone in there. I don’t even know what morgue you’re in. I have no way to reach you. To call you, to text you. It’s weird. I hate it.
I miss you. I can’t believe I have to bury my brother. 30 year olds shouldn’t be planning funerals.
I blame your f***** job. I told you to get out of there. You were in a war zone everyday. You were burnt out. You were desensitized to violence and death. I get you wanted to be a good person- to help people- but couldn’t you have been a police officer somewhere else? Remember when we were talking about you moving near me? Becoming a cop in a smaller town….less crime….less murders….why didn’t you prioritize yourself? Why did you stay in that job, sacrificing yourself and your family? For what?
The hardest part in all of this is having to remind myself you’re gone. I drift off to sleep, or get lost in a tv show….and I forget for just a minute that the whole f**** world is upside down. Then I have to remind myself you’re dead. God I can’t believe you are dead, Dane.
I miss you. I wish I could have told you how much you meant to me. I wish I could hug you one more time.
I’m sorry I didn’t help. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
Your little sister,
Kelsey

My whole life I have walked beside you brother. Through the good and the bad we’ve always had each other’s backs and now that your gone I feel so lost. It’s been 25 days since you left us. The longest and worst period of time of my life. Ever since I got the call that you hung yourself I haven’t been able to get this weight off my chest and I feel like I can’t breathe.
Mom and Dad are not okay. Mom especially is struggling with the holidays and now your birthday approaching. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help. I am so lost in my grief that I am struggling to take care of my family. My kids miss you and keep crying for you. I comfort them the best I can but this has been hard for all of us. Dad was rushed to the hospital today after passing out after having severe chest pains. He’s 2000 miles away and I may lose him too.
Our little sisters are a mess. I’m trying to hold it all together, but I just can’t. We are falling apart without you.
The guilt of it all is overwhelming. You left so many notes, journals, and paintings that have opened my eyes to what you were going through. I knew you were sick. I was the one who sent the clinic and police over to check on you over and over. They kept telling me that the law prevented them from doing anything unless you were imminent danger. But you were and I tried so hard. It hurts… I feel like I should’ve pushed harder when you said no to checking into a hospital. I should’ve done more and now you are gone. I watched the videos you made. I understand the mental anguish you were in and everyone keeps telling me that you are at peace now without all the suffering. I am so angry at that thought. I wish they could see that I was trying to keep you here, trying to bring you peace here. You were only 29 years old. You had your whole life ahead of you.
I am missing you. Missing our childhood and all of our crazy shenanigans. Even our fights are precious to me now. I’m missing our conversations as adults. Growing into our friendship and understanding each other as individuals and not just family members. I am holding on to every memory that I can. Because now they have to last the rest of my lifetime. I miss the future we could’ve had. You watching your nieces and nephews grow while cooking grape leaves with my hubby and working on all your projects together. I miss it all… I miss it every second… it’s overwhelming.
I’m afraid to let it go. Even one bit because I am not ready to let you go. I look at your pictures every day. I am clinging to it all as I drown in this grief. My beliefs are shattered. Are you at peace on the other side? Or are you just gone… nothing but a memory? Was it worth it? Why couldn’t you stay?
The police said the steps you took to go through with it were thought out. I wonder how long you were planning this. I saw you Thursday and you made plans to vacation with us for Christmas. On Saturday you were gone. Did you know on Thursday that you were going to end it all? Did you know on Friday when you saw Momma that it’d be your last goodbye? What happened in those 4 hours you were alone that you ended it all? What happened Brother? Why?

Almost 4 months ago I received the news just as I started University. My older brother Jeffrey had ended his life, it shocked me and I have still not processed it. This was the first time that we opened gifts without you, your picture looked us on but I wanted you there. You went to soon but I understand since I have stood in depths of depression and have barely survived. I’m missing you and can’t stop thinking about you.
With love your younger sis, J