Only 2 years apart in age, never lived a single day without her. October 16 2017, my best friend, my little sister, took her life in the backyard of someone’s house. My beautiful angel, now will only be a memory. How can I do it alone?

A little over 4 months ago my younger sister took her own life. She had been struggling for so long with Borderline Personality Disorder. She had tried multiple times in the past, but not for a while. We thought she was doing a little better. She was getting treatment across the country where we visited as much as we could. We talked every day, often multiple times a day. She had just moved back home and was applying to school to finish college. She was 27 and had never been able to because of her disorder. She was the most caring, selfless, fun loving, spontaneous, always up for adventure, silly, hilarious, witty, physically beautiful as well with gorgeous dark hair and striking blue eyes. She had another side to her. The disorder. She had trouble regulating her mood, would lash out at little things and overreact. Scream. She would get manic and have panic attacks and was often antsy and couldn’t sit still for long. She got agitated very quickly. At the same time, she would then hate herself for being the way she was. She would always say sorry and felt so horribly when she finally processed that she had just made others feel bad. She hated herself. She felt she was ugly and unloveable.

I loved her with all my heart. Nothing anyone said to her made her feel worth anything. She felt she was not worth saving. I would have not only saved her—I would have died for her in a heartbeat. We were only 10 months apart, but she was my little sister and I was always protective and defended her ever since we were little. She based her value on how others saw her, and she hated what she thought they saw. Any little action that she interpreted as rejection would tear her to pieces—even if that wasn’t the intention. Often people didn’t know she was so hurt by little things they had done. She had always had trouble with friends and reading social cues, as well. A girl she has been friends with since she was 2 who had been distancing herself from my sister because of her outbursts and need for love and not rejection was pushing my sister over the edge.

The night she committed suicide she had gone to dinner and she was happy, and then someone asked her to move to the end of the table. She did, and was unable to hear anything and was totally removed from the social situation and rejected by the party, in her eyes. She got up, went to the bathroom, then went home. She ended up taking a bottle of doxepine and never woke up. The following morning was the worst of of my life. I got a call from my strong, calm father. He was weeping like I hadn’t heard him weep before. Through his screaming and hysterical crying I just heard “she’s gone. Get over here now” and I still didn’t process it but panicked and threw clothes on and rushed over. On the drive over I called my husband and told him the same thing and hung up. I called my dad back and asked which hospital she was going to and he had to repeat over and over that we weren’t going to the hospital. I yelled why and he just couldn’t get through to me. I didn’t want to miss her if they went to a hospital and I went to his house. I rushed past multiple cop cars in front of my dads building and an ambulance and raced up to the apartment. Throwing open the front door I saw policemen awkwardly standing around and my dad hysterical and a mess and it was all a blur. I charged past everyone and into her room. At the sight of her lifeless eyes and hands clenched, I lost it. I sobbed and sat on the floor and said there must be some way to wake her up.

Angrily I asked did they even try to revive her? What were they waiting for. Hours went by and she was in that room. Most of the day. My whole family just in tears, unable to speak. Barely breathing. We couldn’t believe it was true. We all went in and out. I went in after hours and lay next to her. To some this may sound weird, but I didn’t want to let her go and I wanted to stay with her. I smelled her hair one last time, I tried to close her eyes but they wouldn’t close, I held her clenched hand in mine. I hugged her. She was so cold. I noticed her nails and how bitten down they were. She always did that. I kissed her on the forehead and cheek and didn’t want to leave. I finally went into the other room when the first examiners came to the house. I waited and I alternated between crying my eyes out and sitting there staring at the wall in total shock. Then they rolled her out of her room in a black body bag. I lost it. This wasn’t real.

Even though she had been struggling, it seemed to be ok and it was still so sudden. I wish she had called me. I want one more hug, one more kiss, to bury my face in her hair embraced in a bear hug once more. I miss her so much every second of every day and the pain is unbearable. Our family has fallen apart and everyone is suffering beyond belief. I feel like my heart has been ripped in two and I don’t know how to move forward. I hear her voice I try to make myself dream about her but it has only been a couple of times. In one of the dreams I was trying to teach her to fly, oddly enough, but I guess that says a lot..I don’t know..I’m not religious, but if I was I would say she’s the one flying now. I miss her so much it is physically painful. It comes in unbearable waves. Days I don’t believe it happened and that she will call me any minute, or come over to my house, and then there are days I suddenly start bawling my eyes out trying to catch my breathe. I would have died for her in a heartbeat. I would have taken away all her pain in a heartbeat. I would do anything ANYTHING just to have her heart beat again.

I love you, my little bear. I miss you and love you with all of my heart, every second of every day, and I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you, but I guess I have to try to keep going.
You are my hero and my heart.

I just want to say- thank you.
Thank you for the 21 years in my life.
Xxx
Your little sister

The last time I heard my brother’s voice was a month ago on March 27th. My mom picked up but she didn’t know this was Wesley. At the time my parents put a restraining order on my brother. He wasn’t allowed to contact our parents or his daughter. For several years my brother struggled with Alcohol Addiction. The doctors already told him last August he only has 70% of his liver. If he kept up his drinking he would only have a couple years to live.

So from August to November he lived at home with us. My brother was a violent drunk but when he didn’t drink he was the most caring person. A day after Halloween I took his girlfriend to the bus depot. The night before he began to fight her but she ran away. So I told her to leave but that I am sorry for what is happening. My brother came home to find everyone gone. So in a drunk blind rage he broke everything in my room. This was when my parents banned him from the house.

He was calling from the hospital. My brother told me he had a seizure in the middle of the gas station. As he talked I could tell he was drunk. Later on he relented his drinking could be the cause of his seizure (Our mom has seizures, so heredity also could be a factor). He also apologized to me for breaking my stuff and I forgave him. I remember hearing him cry in relief. Telling me he is not surprised by what I said and that he misses me. He also got to talk to my mom and his daughter. Eventually I had to tell my dad. I can’t lie to him.

Then I began noticing my mom getting upset and frantic. One of the things she said was he wanted to commit suicide. I was mad at him for making mom sad. The next time he called we got into an argument. He belittled me so much I was pissed. At the time, I felt like things will never change. Just our lives stuck on repeat. So I told him never to call back and that we won’t visit him. Then I unplugged the phone so he couldn’t say more worse things to our mom.

10 days later he was hit by a car and died. His death was ruled an accident but I know this is what he wanted. He would always talk about ways to kill yourself. I remember him saying he would want his death so horrible our dad will cry. At the moment, our family seems to have moved on so quickly. They all believe he was so drunk he accidentally walked out into the street.

Deep down my brother was hurt by my actions. He truly believed no one cared about him. So he gave up. Now I can never say, “I’m sorry and I love you.”

April 10th of 2016. It was a Sunday morning. I was asleep in bed with my boyfriend, Tj. And at 7 am I wake up to the sound of knocking. My parents are here. Just 8 days before my mother called to tell me my older brother Sammy had run away. He had been struggling to our knowledge for only a month or two. Since his passing I’ve found his journals… he had been contemplating suicide since 2013. We had no idea. He was a beautiful man. 21 years young. Handsome and tan, blonde and strong. He had so many friends and participated in marching bands and indoor percussion and drumline all over the US. He could play the trumpet and the bass drum and the symbols. He was a leader in everything he did. He took charge, was considerate of feelings and would go out of his way unprompted to help a friend
He understood me in a way nobody else does…or ever will. Not even the relationship between my little brother and I could ever compare. He accepted me as I am. Loud and impatient, silly and overdramatic. I never had to explain myself to him. He always just knew… he understood.
On the chilly drizzly morning of April 6th 2016. He was found lying face down in the back parking lot of a Kmart in Maui, Hawaii. He had put a ziptie around his throat and tightened it until it cut off blood supply and oxygen. The coroners report says it took a few minutes. He stumbled around. And when he feel he scraped his knees and the side of his beautiful cheek. Then he died. Alone in the rain. My heart aches for that moment. For if I couldn’t have prevented him from killing himself… I so terribly wish o could have at least held him. No man that wonderful and beautiful and full of love should have to die alone in the cold rain. Behind a f…ing Kmart. It’s been 2 years. He missed little Ethan graduating highschool. He missed my wedding. My parents cry each and every day. I wish I had known. I would have told him how much I looked up to him. How much I respected him. How much I loved him like no other. His name was Samuel Thomas Spott. And he was my big brother. The best big brother.

My younger brother ran out in front of a train 10 in the ago. There’s a whole messy inquest now…

If only I would have read your mind, if only I would have called you earlier that day, if only I would have repeated over and over how much I loved you, if only I would have protected you from the world… I will live the rest of my life “If only”.. Sergio its not getting easier, I am hanging on to my faith and I know God is by my side but seeing my mom & dad devasted by your loss is extremely painful. They are so sad NOTHING makes them smile, they live a life of regret because my mom thinks it was her fault for you taking your life.. My dad tries to comfort her but he too needs comforting, your boys stopped coming to visit because its too hard for them not to find you there. You changed our lives so much Sergio, you were a huge part of our hearts I wish you would have known that, we love you WHY did you force us to live with this heart break WHY!!!! Every month seems different emmotionally but never is it easy, not seeing you, talking to you, hugging and kissing you has been so hard.. What I would give to have just one more day with you I MISS YOU so much that is hurts so bad. I pray that you are happy now, enjoying everlasting life with all our family and friends that have left this world & waiting for that moment that we will be together again. I adore you & love you more than you will ever know.. Always & forever your sis…

I can’t really imagine anything worse. I’m in a pretty dark place right now. It’s been around 8 months, but it still feels like yesterday. My little brother committed suicide and he didn’t even think to give me a call. A simple call would have saved his life, and mine too. I’m confused, angry, sad, I don’t really know what to do. I’m trying to find some meaning, I just want to know why he did it. He’s not the type of person to just quit, when things get a little rough…..

All I have to offer you is my story.
I am not a grief counselor.
I have not written a self-help book.
I am no expert on the subject.
But what I do have is day after day after day of tears and pain and questions and longing.
Longing to understand why it happened and if it was always going to happen or if there was something I could have possibly done to stop it — or at least delay it.
Of course, the “it” I am referring to is my brother’s suicide nearly three years ago.
For those of you reading this who have also suffered from suicide loss — whether it be a family member, friend, coworker, etc. — I am so unbelievably sorry, and I know the pain you are experiencing. It is an excruciating pain, one that can only be truly understood by those who have experienced it first-hand.
But in spite of that pain, here’s a little hope for you:
It does get better.
Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my brother at least once and wish he was still here with us. I still feel a hint of that fierce cold that struck me the night I heard the news three years ago. I still bawl my eyes out when I see a picture of Zach or when I watch old videos of him playing his guitar.
But please believe me when I say that it does get better. My pain is strong. It is severe at times. But the severity of the pain is nothing is comparison to what it was that first year.
I read somewhere that everyday we should challenge ourselves to become 1% better. As survivors of suicide, we can work together on growing 1% in our grief recovery everyday. Everyday there might hints (or avalanches) of tears and pain and questions and longing, but everyday could get a little easier, a little more bearable, if you focus on these five recommendations:
1. Be honest with yourself.
Let’s be honest: you are going through a traumatic experience. Stop trying to pretend like it didn’t happen. Stop trying to stuff your feelings deep down inside, sealed by that fierce cold you feel. You have been through hell and back with this loss. You are allowed to acknowledge your pain. You NEED to acknowledge your pain. Be honest with yourself about where you are in your grief recovery journey, and know that recovery is indeed a lifelong process. Be patient with yourself as you learn how to live life in spite of this loss.
2. Make self-care your top priority.
Self-care. Self-care. Self-care. A year ago I didn’t even know what that phrase meant. Now I live it and love it everyday. At all times but especially in this time as you begin your grief recovery journey, you need to focus on the self-care activities that refresh and renew your soul. For me, it’s lighting candles and writing my thoughts in my journal. For others, it’s a warm bath and a nice glass of wine. For you, it could be practicing meditation or going for a run. Whatever it is, FIND IT and hold onto it, especially in the darkest and hardest days of your grief recovery journey.
3. Open up to your support system.
I firmly believe that secrets make you sick. The more you try to hide how you are feeling, the lonelier you will feel, the more you will remain stuck in a state of darkness. In order to find the light, you have to actively SEEK the light, and by that I mean seeking the friends, family members, counselors, etc. who bring light to your life and support you in your grief recovery journey. Open up to them. Let them in. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable with them and tell them if you’re having a hard day. You deserve to be supported in this time of healing.
4. Practice gratitude.
I will repeat what I mentioned in my previous post: “We can focus on the fact that we lost my brother after 23 short years, or we can make the decision to be grateful for the 23 years he gave us.” In the past (almost) three years of my grief recovery journey, I have noticed that the less I focus on gratitude, the more depression and anxiety I experience as a sibling survivor of suicide loss. I am grateful that I can now use my story to help others. I am grateful for the lessons my brother taught me. I am grateful that I still have more time on this planet. This month, I started a gratitude calendar where I write down one thing I am thankful for everyday. It’s made a world of a difference in my life, and I encourage you to do the same.
5. Channel your sadness into something you care about.
Finally, the greatest way to move forward in your grief recovery journey is to take all of your tears and pain and questions and longing, take it all together, bundle it all up, and throw it into whatever you are passionate about. Take all of that negative energy and allow it to propel you forward, giving you the fierce drive and determination to succeed at whatever you wish. For me, this translates into the following: when I feel depressed about the loss of my brother, I write. I write and write and write in hopes that someway, somehow, another survivor of suicide loss will read my story and find the hope for which they’ve been searching. What are you passionate about? What makes you feel most alive? Do that. My sister always reminds me that energy cannot be created or destroyed — it can only be transferred. You will never be able to destroy your depression, your negative energy from your suicide loss. You can only “destroy” the negative energy by transferring that energy into something positive, something that reminds you that life is worth living.
And for me, so long as I have a platform to share my story and a chance to share hope and healing with others, then life is still worth living.
You’re going through hell, but you can do this.
I believe in you, and I am here for you.
Sincerely,
Someone Who Cares

Subject: Years Later, and Still

March 31, 2003
I was 7 years old when it happened, now I am 22 and hurt more and more every day. My dear Iris had a scholarship to Yale Medical and would have been a successful doctor by now. I had a tumultuous few years when I was a teenager, and regret not following her footsteps. I am in college now, but have noticed how much I love my friends and how much I push others away. My mother blamed me for her death some years ago, mistreated me with an intense anger. (My sister was dating a family member at the time(which I knew of but didn’t really think much since I was so young, though I knew it was odd) , rejected by him when she didn’t want to marry him and he got a new fling, so she was devastated) Now I have so much sadness and hatred and fear of abandonment, I guess I never really got over it. Reading my fellow guest posts brings an immediate tear to my eye because I can’t imagine the recent feeling and my heart cries with you. In my heart yearns a deep burning love for none other than my sister, the one who could not receive it in the past 15 years, the one who I had hoped to be my guide for years to come, though our time together was cut ever so short. why didn’t she want to stay with us? we could have helped her go through everything. Every day, more so in my times of confusion and frustration, I wonder how different life would have been if she were here? How much happier my mom would have been? How much more love would be in our lives? Was she selfish or am I the selfish one? I only ever wonder why….