In 1978 my brother Carter hung himself. I was fifteen at the time. I felt I not only lost my brother but my entire family. Back then there was no suggestion of counseling and those of us left we pretty much expected to keep it to ourselves. In 1981 my oldest sister Tacy took her life by an overdose. Then in 1998 my other brother, Calvin, who was Carter’s identical twin, hung himself. In 2006 my oldest nephew, Calvin’s son, hung himself. My only daughter attempted suicide last summer. I myself am in therapy, and have attempted suicide several times, as have my two surviving sisters. We all feel that we lost our parents when we first lost Carter, and it got worse with each death. Mom and Daddy are both gone now and I can’t help but be grateful that they are all together now. With each death our parents pushed us further and further away. We felt like everyone was just wondering which one would be next. Both my older sister and I have been diagnosed as bipolar with major depressive disorder and suicidal ideations. We are both actively seeking treatment, but we both worry about our younger sister as she does not admit to having a problem, even though I cut her down myself when she tried to hang herself. I miss them all, but I fight every day not to join them before my time.