I lost my brother to suicide October 2016. I know he had problems but I thought he was handling his circumstances well. Due to learning disabilities, he never made much more than minimum wage. He was victim of a for profit college that put him 40k in debt. A sum he could never pay and no ability to discharge the debt. With two wage garnishment, he was the definition of the working poor. He had promised me if he needed help he would call me, but he was proud. I later learned he was about to be evicted. All it would have taken is a phone call. I would have done what was needed. He knew that and he had promised me he would reach out. I don’t understand why death was preferrable. I cry every day, but I am also so angry at someone who dies not even exist. I want to scream at him and kick his butt. I want to hug him. I feel so betrayed. What he did was unbelievably cruel and self centered. I thought he loved me. He had to know he was loved. Why did that not matter.? All he had to do was to pick up the phone and call instead of hanging himself by a door knob. I don’t understand.
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