Subject: I still miss you daily.

I am out of town on a business trip and came across someone who has had a sibling in the hospital where I last kissed your forehead as you lay brain dead. I hadn’t thought about it in a few weeks… I was doing great until this evening.
That same, familiar, heart-crushing pain sunk in and I find myself weeping uncontrollably again. I messaged our other sisters I loved them. I am completely unable to say anything more than that. We are like dominoes, if one is in the dark spot and the others find out- we are all there. So I saved them the agony today.
I often wonder how my sweet nephew will be as he grows. I hope he always just remembers you an angel and never feels the extent of this pain. I hope he turns out well adjusted in the end. I hope you are happy and proud of how we are handling things.
It’s been almost two years and I miss you just as intensely as I did the first day.
Truly, our of all the horrible days of my life; that was the worst. I hope the boys who followed after you are keeping you company, my sweetest angel.
I miss your laugh, your smile, your spirit; I just miss you. The worst part about losing someone is not knowing if being gone from this life means you are gone forever. I hope that is not the case and we meet again. What I would give for one more embrace and another raspy laugh.

Subject: Six months later

I would like to first say that I have read a great many of the posts on this site before thinking of writing one myself. They kept me sane when I felt my thoughts were beyond order.
Six months ago, I lost my younger brother. Around Thanksgiving, my youngest brother and I heard he wasn’t doing well. I couldn’t get on a plane to go to him, because I was over eight months pregnant. His wife was concerned he would hurt himself and both me and our youngest brother didn’t believe that was remotely possible. Within a week, he took his life and three days later I gave birth to my first child.
He was on the West Coast, having just left the military a few months before and entered a college program. He was a well respected private in the navy, having received two major awards, including one for saving someone’s life.
He was the best of us, the most concientious, devoting his life to others, kind, hysterically funny, handsome, athletic, gifted with a smile warmer than the sun and a laugh that assured you life was good.
There was no funeral even though hundreds of people would have attended to honor him. His will directed that he should be cremated which was done in CA while I was in a hospital in NY and my son in the NICU. Memorials were planned and then set aside when grief was unbearable. His navy friends organized a paddle out in several states in his honor and we stood by the shoreline at our home beach to honor him.
Everyone thought he was doing so well and on this continual trajectory up after working so hard and fighting for happiness despite hardship and having to overcome many odds.
He was so kind that I worried about people taking advantage of him or hurting him. He loved everyone and sacrificed so much for them, I could not have imagined this for him. He loved his wife more than anyone and anything. She was his greatest happiness. He was robbed of his life because he had no idea how to handle or confront his depression.
That is all I can say for now though it is a mere nothing to the emotions that surround this loss.Thank you for this website to put thoughts and feelings.

This morning I woke up with puffy eyes – the same puffy eyes that I woke up to every night for at least 2 weeks straight after he took his life by hanging. I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw a face still dealing with the pain of loss. It’s hard to imagine that it has been 7 months without Eli. The permanent absence of his laugh, of his smile, of my favorite arm to hold, is hurtful. The pain of the loss of my big brother who was so close to my heart and soul is gut wrenching. I look around see the pictures I have scattered around my apartment, which now collect dust. Sometimes, I can be superficial and remember good memories. Sometimes, I stare at them in anguish. I get this feeling in the back of my throat like I shouldn’t be breathing when he is not around. How could this be my life? How does this even happen? How is he just.. GONE. He’s not even on this Earth anymore, how could that even f’ing be?! Escalating feelings of unfairness and sorrow well up inside. Then I have to let them go.

This roller coaster happens probably every week, but I think of him every day. I hear people say this a lot, and didn’t know what it meant, but it’s so so true. I think about him EVERY DAY!!! When I went hiking in Colorado last week, when I go running, when I make smoothies, when I go to bed, when I eat a sweet potato, when I talk to my incomplete family, when I consider working in psychiatry (but right now I say nope, can’t handle that). I think of my wonderful, loving brother every time. I let myself feel the pain, then I let it go. This is how I survive.

I feel more anxiety now than I ever did before. I don’t feel as confident anymore. I try not to bury feelings, but it happens anyway. I’m just surviving in this world now. Now that I’ve lost a loved one to suicide, no one can relate – not even my own family members grieve the same way that I do. However, through the pain I hold my family closer to my heart than ever before. I actually think I value the average human life more than ever before. There is something sweet to every sour. A soft side to every sword. We live with both. That is humanity. Learning to deal with hardship is a lesson we all learn. Every person has their own hardship, and we have to stand strong together and wipe each other’s tears so that we can all move forward. I hope all of us can someday be an advocate for stopping suicide. We have to speak out and make a change, because nobody should have to experience the pain of loss like this.

I just found out I lost my brother Joe to suicide. I have not been close to my family for a long time. By choice. I have already done a whole lot of grieving. Thank God.
We loved each other. But we weren’t even remotely “close,” at all, either. That is my family.
We really had very, very few bonding moments. When we were little, he introduced me to the Beatles via records at our house, records at his friend’s and his friend’s brother’s records. I just remember a stretch–I was only like six or seven–and I got to tag along and just got immersed in the Beatles. I love him for that. Sounds sort of silly writing that–but it’s not. We also bonded over the Beastie Boys. Paul’s Boutique. Lol. I was freaking out over it when I got it and he ‘got’ it. No one was listening to PB at when it came out. Lol.
Joe was a trip, for sure. To his own drummer. The Lost Child. Very, very smart. But also lost in his head, too.
I remember the night my mom kicked my dad out of the house. I was like five or six. Joe and I listened to them yell at each other–Joe tried to reassure me things would be okay. He was like seven and I know he was as twisted over it as I was–and he had no clue if things were going to turn out okay (they didn’t).
Twenty-plus years ago, I raised our family issues with him, but he wasn’t open to talking about it. I let everyone know I was in recovery, clean and sober and all, and then I detached. I showed what boundaries and detaching looked like, whether family members hated me for it or not, or didn’t get it, or whatever.
We had some brief email connections in the last several years. Nothing major, but he knew I loved him and vise-versa.
I love you, Joe.
I hope you are in a better place, and I absolutely believe everything does work out in the universe in the end.

On Friday, May 25th, 2018, my little baby brother (16 yrs old) took three tabs of LSD 8 hours before jumping nine stories to his death, impaled on a fence. I had gone away to college for the year and had been back for only two days before he ended his life. He was beating depression and saw a future for himself. He was my best friend and wanted to move in with me next year while I was in college. I am in so much pain that he is gone forever. I feel his spirit sometimes but I don’t know if that’s even real. I just wish he had called me. I wish he hadn’t have done the drugs because I know he would not have done this if he had truly been thinking straight. I just don’t know how to cope at all. He was my only sibling. I always took care of him, especially after my parents got divorced and my father became a violent alcoholic. I have just been through so much and can’t deal with this on top of everything. I didn’t have enough time with him. there was so much I wanted to teach him about life and freedom and how much better life gets. I just don’t know what to do or feel. I feel numb. I feel lost. I am broken.