I miss my brother so much his name was Mitchell I lost him to Suicide 3 weeks ago. He was only 28. He was my only brother and 9 years younger than me. He had a big court case coming up and he was afraid to go to jail even though we were getting him a lawyer. I can’t believe he did this. He was very depressed and felt he wasn’t going anywhere in life, no job, no wife, no kids and still living with my mom. He was on a lot of pills for depression. I miss him so much and I talk to him all the time. He believed in God and I just pray he is in heaven with God and our dad who died when my brother was only 12. Mitchell missed him a lot and I pray he’s ok and happy now and not in pain. It’s just so so so difficult to know he had the courage to shoot himself. I miss him and just want to talk to him. I pray it will get better. I have to take care of my 68 year old mom and my 1 year old son and it’s so hard. I love and miss Mitchell so very much.
Yo. Mom still never replaced the wallpaper in the kitchen (ha) and 8 mile is still as ghetto as it was when you visited. It’s your youngest sister. Along with your other siblings, M and A, your family, all your bar friends and anyone who ever met your humorous self… we all miss you so much. Being the youngest at the age of 15, I will have to deal with this the longest. My birthday is coming up in a few weeks and I know your birthday is ten days after it… I really wish I would have known about your depression, which you had before I was even born…..You kind of remind me of Robin Williams in some aspects because you seemed so happy and doubt-free. I read the letter you wrote to me almost everyday… At the funeral I felt the only realistically comforting support I got was a therapist’s number from the funeral director….. I hate overthinking and not being able to vent to people. I feel regret even as I know there is nothing I could have really done. This year in English, we had read a book called “Catcher in The Rye.” Even as most of my classmates said the book was a waste of trees, I do kind of feel like the main character, Holden. Maybe one day, i’ll be able to explain the book to you.. Even if we both question if Jesus exists and if you can even read this haha.
My brother killed himself “so they say” May 10th. He left no note or text or even a mention of anything. I raised him and took care of him his whole life. I can’t stop crying and thinking and crying and panic attacks are getting worse. Please help…
I lost my 23 year old sister February this year.
I still have trouble processing this is actually real.
I’ve created a fb page called SOS siblings of suicide.
It’s basically a place where I can share my feelings, quotes and videos that relate to suicide from loved ones.
I felt that ppl in my friends list weren’t too thrilled about me always posting these feelings so I’ve dedicated a page specifically for that.
Feel free to visit or share anything u like.
I created it for ppl just like us.
It’s been over a year and it still feels like everything happened yesterday. I always thought I’d be the one to commit suicide because my illness was always out in the open. Your mental illness just crept up on me and everyone else even though it didn’t at the same time. I feel responsible because I know what it’s like to feel that hopeless and miserable and u didn’t see it in you. that fight we had over winter break still haunts me every moment of my life. Everybody says that you didn’t suffer but the amount of emotional turmoil I know you were in surpasses any physical suffering you could have experienced. Mom’s still pretty manipulative. I thought your death might open her eyes but it just made everything worse. She treats me like I’m not allowed to mourn you and acts as if she is the most affected by your death. She tries to blame your ex but I personally think a year of a bad relationship is nothing compared to the 19 years of emotional abuse that she put you through. She bought the plot next to you. She treats me the same as always. Anytime I cry, she cries ouder. It’s gotten so bad that I’ve pushed all of my grief down as usual. I can’t control or express my grief it’s just always there but I can’t access it. Now when I go to your grave or anything like that, I don’t get anymore sad than I already am, I just get angry about everything with Mom. I moved out to Nana’s though and I’m going to college this fall and getting my life together and it feels really good but I also hate it, honestly. I feel so guilty for moving on without you. When you first died, I thought maybe I was supposed to die too because I’d never been on this earth without you before. You were 19 when you died. I was 17 but I’ve aged so much in one year. I’m dreading the day that I’ll be on the earth longer than you ever were. I’m not mad at you but it hurts to know that you didn’t choose to live for me the way I chose to live for you. I miss you more everyday, Sis.
It all started five years ago when I lived with my mother-in-law and husband and took care of my mother-in-law until her passing. at this time I was working at a hospital as a nurse case manager coordinator so you could imagine how stressful life could be a times. I had a great relationship with my mother-in-law for 18 years until it got stressful and ugly with some family members. My husband and I moved to an apartment to start fresh. About a year later we finally took that vacation we needed so desperately. On our last night my mother called to inform me that my beloved cousin who was late forties was found dead in his apartment. His fight with his life was lost to alcoholism. The very next morning, our last morning on our vacation my husband received a phone call from my brother-in-law; actually, it was a voice message. My husband looked white and shook his head and I asked him what is wrong? He stated he thought he heard the message wrong so he listened to it again. We found out my 40 year old baby sister who lived in the same flat for over twenty years went out in the middle of her street outside her flat. She poured gasoline over herself and lit herself on fire. Many of her neighbors and a full restaurant saw this transpiring. A good samaritan tried to put the flames out but according to the man who tried to save her my sister responded let me die don’t help me.The neighbors told us that you could hear her screaming several streets back. My sister worked at a law firm for many years and became an accomplished artist in the San Francisco area. She also had bipolar disorder that turned into schizoaffective disease because she did not get the right treatment and when we cleaned out her apartment, we found bags of loaded medications never touched.
Obviously,she had a stigma about her disease and when she was in the psych hospital, the revolving door put her out after 3 days stabilizing her condition. Most of us know who have loved ones fighting illness are not inpatient and need much more rehabilitation for a fighting chance. A few months later, I started having severe abdominal pain so my husband took me to the emergency room and they found three incidental tumors, one looking like lymphoma. I had major surgery done in 2012 with the tumor removed and waited two weeks to get pathology back finding out it is a rare disease associated with lymphatic diseases. I had many organs removed and 4 years later I have not recovered. I have seen 10 specialists PT therapist, which has helped me the most. Unfortunately something went wrong in surgery and cause muscle tearing non functioning bowel digestion disorders that causes pain 24/7. Before this surgery, so took occasional over the counter meds but post surgery 4 years out I am on approx 20-30 meds a day. I spoke to malpractice attorneys but it was just too convoluted and I just wanted to move on with my life so I did not sue the doctors and surgeons.
I have had a good health care team the last two years unfortunately during the time of the surgery I had surgeons and doctors that were in denial and probably just did not want to get involved with my post-op complications still flourishing to this day. I do wonder how much stress emotional stress from my sister’s suicide could have made my surgery worse. I have seen a good psychologist for two years, not such a great one the first year. I was diagnosed with PTSD. My other sister and I were tested for bipolar and other mental illnesses but we both came up negative only having some depression and diagnosed with PTSD. Of course if we were dealt the hand of mental illness it would have been hard but nothing to be ashamed about. My sister and mother have done great grass roots political work in educating about bipolar, which has a heightened suicide risk if not treated appropriately. It is a very challenging thing to get a person with bipolar to take their medications, especially in mania.
Unfortunately my baby sis closed herself off to our immediate family several years before she committed suicide, so I have a deep grief that I never got to say goodbye. Most everyone has tried to comfort me and I think the best comfort was when a friend would hold my hand and just be there for me with no judgement or lectures. I do not put anyone down that has tried to soothe my pain. I then got judged that I was addicted to painkillers but that’s not the truth. I only take prescription medications to help me with the pain and I never had an addiction history. My psychologist explained that there is a difference between being addicted to medications/drugs compared to having a dependency and minored closely by pain management MD’s. Not only is there a stigma for mental illness but there is stigma associated with chronic pain. I understand the reasons why we need to carefully watch and to lessen overdoses, however; just go to an emergency room and many physicians do not want to deal with chronic pain issues. Now, the ER doctors know my situation and treat me very well when I go in for nausea vomiting and pain like level 10. I guess I am bringing all this up to make a correlation that I can’t prove my sister’s suicide caused all this of course; it didn’t, but I believe it has made my healing a much longer process.
Sometimes I catch myself getting mad at myself for not getting over her suicide and then I stop myself and let myself walk through the pain, especially when a trigger sparks off a memory. PTSD is nothing I could have imagined or I experienced. I would bet fathers, mothers, and siblings losing a family member to suicide can cause them some trauma. Sometimes I can go weeks or months feeling as though I find peace and other times such as tonight I smelled the perfume she used to wear and it sent me into crying uncontrollably for hours off and on. Thank you for letting me share my story, as it is comforting.
It is #mentalhealthawarenessweek and so I have decided to share the blog I have been writing about my brother’s recent death. I guess I feel that even if one person reads it and either has depression and seeks help, or is close to someone who may need help, then it is 1000% worth it.
It’s been less than a month, but feels like a lifetime. That song ‘it’s been a long day without you my friend, and I’ll tell you all about it when i see you again’. I have to think about the future, i have to face the future without you now. You turned 17 a month before you decided to die. You told mom about a month before the suicide that maybe you had depression. That you looked up ways of killing yourself painlessly…. I was 9000 miles away, when i found out i spoke to you on skype, told you to get therapy. Told mom to get you to see the doctor Asap! But you said you were fine. And everyone swept it under the carpet. Well, on monday, april eleventh, you went to school on as always. Half an hour later mom got the call – you never turned up. She called you. You said your lessons were to start later on that day, you were going to go downtown. Mom told you to come home and get the money for bus. You said in your normal, almost cheery voice ‘yes, okay, I’m going to go home now’ hung up, turned off your phone. You were about 15 miles away from home. 30 minutes later you put your neck down on to the railway line…. Mom was trying to call you when you were already dead. She texted me when she first couldn’t get hold of you. There was a 9hr difference, so it was evening and i was still at work. My heart sank. I could feel something. And when 1, 2, 3, 4 hours passed and there were no news still, i could sense it. And then she texted me – police is here. I knew it. Even before she said it. While she was still hoping he’d come back, i googled a newspaper article about a person who got hit by train and died. That was in our city. And i just knew.
I had a bad feeling all week before that. Like i was so sad but didn’t know why. I flew back as soon as i could. Mom tried to overdose on sleeping pills two days after i came home. She seems better now. I almost never cry. Doesn’t seem real. Read everything on suicide, survivors, and overcoming grief. I’m like a family psychiatrist now. The voice of reason. I’m 23 and was living alone in the country i dreamt of for 10 years. Had the best job ever. Now I’m back to square one, we’re moving to a different city, my parents are broken and “i’m strong, I’ll be happy again when i have kids” according to my mom. I don’t even care about myself as much. It just pains me to see her hurting like this, so i keep everything inside and then get these panic attacks. But they’re nothing. It’s nothing. Nothing matters. But i want to be happy, yet i feel selfish. And i’m mad at my brother. Then i feel guilty again and mad at myself because he was ill. And i will never admit it, but i am mad at my parents and i think they are guilty. For not taking his words seriously, for letting it all slip. But they already feel tremendous guilt, so i won’t ever say anything. My life is on pause, their life has ended. My brother is dead. I have these internal monologues constantly. Sometimes i try to forget. Sometimes i do forget. I was the only person at the crematorium. We couldn’t let mom go. So dad stayed with her. And i’m the big sister so i had to be there one last time. Who knew, that when i went away in January, it would be the last time i see him? I keep telling myself – it was depression. But it still hurts…
Corey, my only sibling and older brother. We never fought. We understood each other in ways that I can’t even explain. Knowing that he always struggled, had this deep pain that none of us could even begin to comprehend. But always tried to keep a positive exterior, smiling and laughing, being an inspiration to everyone that surrounded him… He just didn’t realize how much he impacted every ones lives. Took his life March 12th, the night we got back from a comedy show. I am 20 years old and Corey was 25, this has felt like a nightmare since the day I woke up to the phone call… He had hung himself. Which is the hardest part for me to shake. The pain is too real now, confused, lost, hurt. Knowing you are finally at peace is somewhat comforting, I just wish I could hug you once more, that scruffy facial hair on my cheek. Feel your presence and hear the reassuring advice you always gave me. He was my angel from the beginning and always will be.
It’s been a little over 2 years. It hasn’t been easy; not for me and not for loved ones on both sides of the family. Some of us are still doing “the detective work”- asking why. We know we will never know. I just hope (and deep down I know that you are) that you are at peace and in a better place. The grief comes and goes…sometimes in tidal waves and sometimes completely unexpectedly. I think it might be like this for awhile. Anyway, we all love you (always) and miss you a ton. Wish you were here Bromo.