I missed you yesterday, I miss you today, I’ll miss you tomorrow and for the rest of my life.
There is a major part of losing a loved one to suicide that many other’s do not even realise, not only the stigma that society tries to force us to carry, but that fact that it is so blunt, heavy and unexpected.
We did not prepare for this…to lose them. Especially with so much life left to live.
We didn’t get a diagnosis of how much time we had left with you so we could make the most of it and tell you every single day how much we loved you.
We did not get to reminisce on old memories and laugh to make your last days better.
We did not get to hold your hand and come to terms with the idea of not having you around anymore.
We did not know what was coming.
I knew something was wrong when everyone was rushing around after that phone call.
I knew you weren’t okay from everyone’s behaviour around me.
I remember my world collapsing into millions of pieces when they told me you were gone.
I think back and think of how many times I didn’t believe it and I secretly thought to myself that you would walk through that door and hug me any day now. Maybe that’s because I chose not to see your open casket or because I simply couldn’t bare to think it was true.
I kept thinking of the last day I saw you, laughing, smiling, hugging, dancing around.
Wishing you didn’t leave that day, I wished you had of spoken out, give me your cry of help so I can try to save you!!
The what ifs are what kill me. But I know I shouldn’t even bring those up because that prolongs the pain and trying to heal..but what if you were still here.
Still to this day I find myself thinking about our childhood, you walking me to kindergarten, babysitting me, teaching me silly things you shouldn’t have, carrying me around in the back yard and your smile. The smile that could light up an entire room.
Often through times of hardship or struggle I think of you and what you would say to me to pick me up. How you would make me laugh and feel like everything is going to be okay and to scare the hell out of stupid boys that broke my heart.
I think of how much my future children would’ve adored you and how much you would have taught them.
I think about how much I miss you.
There are so many aspects to being a survivor of losing someone to suicide that I couldn’t possibly put it all into one blog.
But please if you take one thing from reading this, it is that we don’t want you to stop talking about them because suicide is meant to be some ‘big secret’ lathered in stigma. Talk about them, laugh with us about stories of the silly things they did, share photo’s because no one does anymore, keep their memory alive with us. Does it hurt sometimes to talk about it? Hell yes..but it hurts more to not talk about them at all.
Because the way they died does not define the way they lived.
People need to realise that losing someone to suicide is losing someone to disease, and that disease is mental illness and we need to continue that conversation and education.
Suicide is not cowardice, it is sometimes seemingly the only option for someone who is enduring so much internal pain that they can no longer take.
If you have a loved one suffering please tell them how much you love them, support them, let them know things do get better, find them support groups and do not judge them.
And if you are suffering with mental illness or thoughts of self harm please know this, you are loved, you are important, you matter, and you can do this, I believe in you.
One day at a time.
It’s okay not to be okay.
I love you big brother.