My younger brother hung himself 6 weeks ago, he was 58. He had 6 sisters, I was the closest in age to him. I have no siblings close in age now.
I thought I was handling this but now the bad days are more frequent.
He left behind a wife and four boys and I cannot imagine how they are coping.
It seems like my friends just don’t get it or think you should have moved on by now. That is okay as I don’t need them, just sad, sad days.

My Brother took his own life by hanging, it will be 5 years on Easter Monday, I miss him so much and think about him every day, he was my only sibling and my best friend, he never got over the tragic deaths of our Mum and Dad and struggled to move on, he was intelligent and had a sense of humour to match, I just feel completely numb alot of the time and feel I’ve been cheated out of the best years of my life with him, I just constantly miss him and feel so low and down.

Hey brother,
I often write to you, I have a book specifically for you and letters to you. I often find I wrote to you when I’m feeling overwhelmed with sadness and pain.
I want to speak aloud to you, but I still can’t. The lump that forms in my throat when I try and talk to you is huge and stops my voice, but writing to you is the same really. And I think conversations with you every day too.
The pain of losing you sometimes hits me just as hard as it did when I saw Dad’s name on my phone nearly 2 years ago. Hits me from nowhere and your 2 year old niece often wipes my tears. She’s incredible and you would love her so much. Not just for the little person she’s become, the character, the attitude and sass but for how she continues to be my strength when I don’t have any. And she knows all about you. She thinks your funny. Our house phone rang a few months back and she answered it. When I asked who it was she said it was uncle Jamie, I hope you were there in some way.
It’s now been 2 years since I last saw you, last hugged you. I can still feel that hug, it was different to our normal hugs, harder and tighter because it was the first time I had seen you since she ended your marriage and you were hurting.
I found a charity that has been incredible for me, just having someone to talk to and be completely honest with about my feelings, my anger, my confusion, my guilt, my regrets and every other emotion. Someone who has been through it themselves in some capacity so it’s ok to say some of the awful the things I think.
For the first time last week, I actually sat down with a cuppa during nap time and thought to myself ‘I’ll give J a call in a sec’. I don’t think I’ve ever done that, that hit me like a bus.
My life will never be the same, this hole in my heart will never mend and everything in my life is now referred to as before or after you. But I am so grateful to have had you for your forever.
I always sign off with ‘miss you everyday’ but that doesn’t quite do it really, there’s missing someone and then there’s this that I haven’t yet found a word for. So until I do find a word to describe just how much I miss you, I miss you everyday! Xxxx

According to Mama, I fell in love with you the day you came home, even though I was only thirteen months old. We were together our entire lives; sharing a bedroom for the first eighteen years, sharing an apartment at University. You were my best friend and soul mate, my maid of honour, and my children’s favourite aunt. You know all that. This has been the worst year of my life, all 59 days of it, so far, since learning New Year’s Day that you were missing and couldn’t be found. We drove two hours thinking when we got there, we might actually have a chance of finding you. How you made it to the water is anyone’s guess. I miss you so much. How am I to go forward? I keep praying that you will come back, this has all been a terrible dream. I am told it will get easier, but I cannot believe it. I am broken. You will not be forgotten. I will create something for you, about you, that will last forever. I will love you forever. Tu hermana.

I have come to this site often over the past years.
Three days ago marked 35 years since my brother died by setting himself on fire and surviving 43 days on a burn unit.
If you are here you have probably experienced the worst thing that has ever happened to you. After 35 years that is still true for me.
I have noticed a trend toward people posting and receiving no response. Please know each of us here has experienced something similar and we do care.
I believe the wear and tear of the pandemic have left many, many people feeling like they are spread thin.
Please do not take the lack of response as a lack of caring. Take the time to read through past posts to find support and understanding.
If you are a long timer dropping back in, consider responding with a sentence or two to someone else.
Keep coming back here. It matters. We hear you. We care.

It was 9 years ago that my little brother had his life taken by unbearable depression: January 30, 2013.
We were 1.5 years apart. He had just turned 30 years old and was close to graduating with a Ph.D from Oxford University. We’re from a blue collar family on the south side of Chicago, so we were so proud of him. He could translate Ancient Greek and Latin. I used to tease him that he was going to school at Hogwarts. We were both obsessed with Harry Potter and Star Wars. We were so close that we could finish each other’s sentences and we always knew what the other was feeling, even when we were an ocean apart.

After he died, I was forever changed. I had been his big sister for 30 years. And I felt like he left me behind. I have a wonderful husband and 5 beautiful children but…there’s a huge piece of my heart that is gone, forever.

I’m not scared of death anymore. I know somewhere, my dear one is waiting for me. And his is the first face I’ll see when that day comes that I cross over the veil.

Rest In Peace my dearest Tommy until we meet again.

Two weeks ago today my sister died by suicide. She was 16 years older than me and was often assumed to be my mother both when I was young and as I grew up. Truthfully, she did a lot to raise me. In our family, she was my person. She cared for me, protected me, supported me, encouraged me, and never let me feel alone. I have never felt more alone than I do now without her. I have a hard time imagining my life going on without her here. I am finding myself desperate to see or feel her around me and I haven’t yet. Everyone keeps saying how strong I am but I don’t want to have to be strong.. I just want my sister back with me. I feel guilty that the world is going to keep on turning without her. It doesn’t feel right.

I’ve loved you since the day you were born. We went through so much together. Then, things began to change and you pulled away. I didn’t know or understand the impact drugs would have on your life. The cycle it creates. The self loathing and despair and loneliness. I watched you struggle for 23 years. On again, off again, and I pulled away. I never stopped loving you, and I never refused the late night phones calls. I wanted to come save you so many times, but I knew it would end in fights, pleas, and resentment. I hated that you were on your own. So, it was a blessing to watch you find sobriety and get things in your life together. For the final three years, I got to watch you grow. I got to celebrate life with you, and we became closer than we had been even in childhood. I remember always wanting the “old” you back. Then, I realized that the old you had been so traumatized and beat down that it would have to be a new you, a wiser you, a more mature you. I was just so proud to watch you become this person who persevered, despite the set backs and the hang ups. I was so disappointed for you when the court decided they would hold the charges against you, even though you passed the UAs and you worked the program so diligently. It was only 18 months, and I thought if you could do what you had been doing for 3 years, this wasn’t insurmountable. I should have taken you home with me. I can think of a million things I could have done differently that day. If there was one day in the entirety of my existence so far that I want a do-over, it’s the Friday before you over dosed. It hovers over me like this black cloud, three years later. I justified my decision that day with “if he’s going to use, he’ll find a way, whether he’s with me, his girlfriend, or all alone. He needs to do this. He CAN do this”. I didn’t answer the phone because it said “restricted” and it was 10:26 pm. But, my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. The voicemail alert went off and it was an officer. I called back and he told me you had been found. In your bed. In your clean and sober apartment. I remember thinking I would just come get you, so I jumped up, pjs and nothing else and grabbed my keys and I remember the officer telling me to please calm down. I realized I had screamed. My legs didn’t work. I remember the way Dad stumbled in the driveway when he came after I called.I had to catch him and hold him up. It took me another 10 hours to get a hold of Mom. And the sound she made when I told her it was true- you were gone. I’ll never forget the pain in her cry. I stayed up all that Saturday night, numb, heart broken, simply unable to fathom that my little brother was gone. I had to plan everything- I never got to really grieve for you. I just stuffed it all down and kept telling myself my time to grieve would come. Watching our parents grieve for you is the absolute worst. And, all the while I blame myself. There’s a fine line between protecting and enabling. I’m just so grateful that the day before I got to hug you and tell you that I love you. I still feel the scream at the base of my throat. Right there in that soft space, and I’m terrified that if I let it go, it’ll never stop. We were supposed to grow old together and sit on the front porch with our coffee and laugh about all the stupid stuff we did when we were younger. You have nieces and nephews that miss you terribly. I wish you had known the impact you had on them and how much they love you. It all feels like yesterday, like I’m moving through this slow motion goop, still in the fog of grief. There’s a massive you shaped hole inside of me and the weight of it is sometimes unbearable. You helped create the foundation of who I am. All I’ve ever wanted is one more hug. One more laugh. One more car ride with the music blasting. One would never, ever be enough, of course. I know you’re at peace, you’re whole again, but I miss you, Bro.