I’m not usually one who puts together a blog or a forum posting about a topic such as this, nor am I one who usually sits around a chats about most of my personal issues as I’m not one of those people who strive for attention or the kind that merely wishes for others to feel sorry for them but there are times when it just feels better to speak and get things off your chest. This is one of them moments.
I’ve spent a bit of time reading through the threads that have popped up regarding suicide, and have read what appears to be the most heartless of words being uttered and at the same time reading what can only be described as poetic heartfelt responses as well. To those who have put their hearts into their posts you have my respect.
I joined LPSG during August of this year, and shortly after I joined my older brother felt the need to take his own life. I’ve had very mixed feelings about it, anger for him being selfish enough to do so, pity for him being at a point in his life where he felt it was the only way out and even a brief moment of happiness knowing that he no longer suffers the troubles that led him to do what he felt he had to do.
The holiday seasons quickly approach us, and I know that it’s going to be a rough two months, this being the first Thanksgiving and Christmas that he’ll not be with us. Even Halloween was rough as he and I use to have so much fun trying to see who could roll the others house the best. A memory that even as I type this in my blog, it brings a smile to my face.
Most seem to look at me at times as if I’m a heartless bastard, because I deal with my own pain differently than most. I don’t try to kid myself into believing that it didn’t happen, I don’t sit around crying day after day, I’m just a firm believer that life goes on and we have to live our own lives to the fullest and that we can’t try to live the lives of those who have moved on. That and I tend to envelop myself in my work while my thoughts wage a war against themselves in my head. I guess I’m fairly transparent to some, as even some of my new friends that I have met here on this site say they can tell a difference in me I myself don’t see it.
Anyways, there was of course a huge investigation that took place, as my brother’s wife was in the room when he did it, but oddly enough her stories never matched and changed depending on who she was telling, though I guess that could have just been from the traumatic experience of witnessing what she did. As the days turned to weeks, it was leaked to me by a friend who works for the police department that there was a suicide note, something that none of us were made aware of. Apparently, my brother’s wife had ripped it out of a journal that he had kept and if it weren’t for my brother being the type that bears down on when writing the police would not have made out the indention of the word suicide on the page beneath it.
So they of course questioned my sister in law; and reluctantly she handed over the suicide note, or so they thought. After they read the words and compared it to the writings in the journal they quickly accessed that the note was not written by my bother and it was in fact hers. She had given them the wrong note, and when confronted again admitted that they had planned a Romeo and Juliet double suicide and after he had shot himself she couldn’t go through with it.
Now the question that rages through my mind is, "How do I look at her"? Yes, most of us were ignorant of the fact that he was as unhappy as he was, but her, she knew, they planned it together – could she have stopped him from doing it? Could she have told someone and them try to pull him from the slump? Basically, could she have saved him? I haven’t been able to answer this question, and most likely never will but as the holidays approach, most members of my immediate family look at me with a distasteful look because even though I’ll never be able to answer the question above, I forgave her. I’ll never know what went through either of their minds, as I certainly know that I’ll never be able to believe anything that she says after all of the lies that we were told while he was on life support at the hospital, but in my heart I knew that holding a spiteful grudge is not how to live my life. I’ve never been good at holding grudges, because I feel that people who are holding grudges are not doing anything but hurting themselves because the person that they’re holding the grudge against isn’t usually having any problems sleeping at night. So, forgive and move on.
Ok, I’m done, thanks for being a ear and please do not respond with comments of pity, as I’m not looking for any, I just had to get these words out of my head before it exploded.
I’ve spent a bit of time reading through the threads that have popped up regarding suicide, and have read what appears to be the most heartless of words being uttered and at the same time reading what can only be described as poetic heartfelt responses as well. To those who have put their hearts into their posts you have my respect.
I joined LPSG during August of this year, and shortly after I joined my older brother felt the need to take his own life. I’ve had very mixed feelings about it, anger for him being selfish enough to do so, pity for him being at a point in his life where he felt it was the only way out and even a brief moment of happiness knowing that he no longer suffers the troubles that led him to do what he felt he had to do.
The holiday seasons quickly approach us, and I know that it’s going to be a rough two months, this being the first Thanksgiving and Christmas that he’ll not be with us. Even Halloween was rough as he and I use to have so much fun trying to see who could roll the others house the best. A memory that even as I type this in my blog, it brings a smile to my face.
Most seem to look at me at times as if I’m a heartless bastard, because I deal with my own pain differently than most. I don’t try to kid myself into believing that it didn’t happen, I don’t sit around crying day after day, I’m just a firm believer that life goes on and we have to live our own lives to the fullest and that we can’t try to live the lives of those who have moved on. That and I tend to envelop myself in my work while my thoughts wage a war against themselves in my head. I guess I’m fairly transparent to some, as even some of my new friends that I have met here on this site say they can tell a difference in me I myself don’t see it.
Anyways, there was of course a huge investigation that took place, as my brother’s wife was in the room when he did it, but oddly enough her stories never matched and changed depending on who she was telling, though I guess that could have just been from the traumatic experience of witnessing what she did. As the days turned to weeks, it was leaked to me by a friend who works for the police department that there was a suicide note, something that none of us were made aware of. Apparently, my brother’s wife had ripped it out of a journal that he had kept and if it weren’t for my brother being the type that bears down on when writing the police would not have made out the indention of the word suicide on the page beneath it.
So they of course questioned my sister in law; and reluctantly she handed over the suicide note, or so they thought. After they read the words and compared it to the writings in the journal they quickly accessed that the note was not written by my bother and it was in fact hers. She had given them the wrong note, and when confronted again admitted that they had planned a Romeo and Juliet double suicide and after he had shot himself she couldn’t go through with it.
Now the question that rages through my mind is, "How do I look at her"? Yes, most of us were ignorant of the fact that he was as unhappy as he was, but her, she knew, they planned it together – could she have stopped him from doing it? Could she have told someone and them try to pull him from the slump? Basically, could she have saved him? I haven’t been able to answer this question, and most likely never will but as the holidays approach, most members of my immediate family look at me with a distasteful look because even though I’ll never be able to answer the question above, I forgave her. I’ll never know what went through either of their minds, as I certainly know that I’ll never be able to believe anything that she says after all of the lies that we were told while he was on life support at the hospital, but in my heart I knew that holding a spiteful grudge is not how to live my life. I’ve never been good at holding grudges, because I feel that people who are holding grudges are not doing anything but hurting themselves because the person that they’re holding the grudge against isn’t usually having any problems sleeping at night. So, forgive and move on.
Ok, I’m done, thanks for being a ear and please do not respond with comments of pity, as I’m not looking for any, I just had to get these words out of my head before it exploded.
