My little brother killed himself in the early 1980’s. A long time ago, yes, but I still think of him, of the situation, so very often.
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I was in my 3rd year in a very competitive and rigorous university when he came to visit me from our home in the far south of the very large state of California – a place which was the seat, we found out much later, of his schizoid paranoid delusions.
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He came to visit me, and then settled in to a happy and peaceful place on my deck where he talked to people I could not see. I was scared for him – and for me.
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And so I tried, omg how I tried, to get him to see (my) reality. But he would not/could not.
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We clashed about him a getting a job, and I was harsh toward him about it. That job – over which we were SO at odds – is something I know now was nothing he could possibly manage. But back in the 1980’s, before the internet and before any real info about or medication for paranoid schizophrenia, I simply didn’t know – *at all* – how to help him.
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I thought he was malingering and had decided to remain soft, sweet, kind and very strange – and without a job – just as he’d been so long.
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I still (and will always, have always, shall always) feel intensely guilty I could not “fix” him. I was the oldest. The brightest. The most grounded of the four of us children. I was responsible. No matter how little I knew back then or what little there was available to know his illness, somehow I *should* have been able to fix him.
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And so … years. And years. Years. Years. Years. And years and years and years: Guilt remains.
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Guilt abounds and multiplies.
Guilt calls me names when I sleep.
Guilt lives.
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Guilt has been lodged in my soul since then, in the 1980’s, when it wedged itself deeply into my soul, into my identity. Guilt has become a part of who I am today. I never wanted it – but it’s part of who I am nonetheless.
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I am always: The girl who did not save her brother. The girl who cast her little brother away. The girl who did not care enough. The girl who was too selfish.
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The girl who let her little brother die.
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The girl who let her little brother kill himself.
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As much as anything else (good daughter, good mom, good friend, good citizen, fun, bright, big smile, ready laugh, hopeful, optimist, etc, etc, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…
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I am and shall always be the girl who let her little brother kill himself.
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In the years since his suicide, since the time we were both so very young, I have learned these truths:
We are not our brothers/our children.
We did the best we could, with the tools we had.
We did.
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In my head, I know such is is true.
But in my heart, it will ever be true that I am the last one in the family to see him alive and, so, I am the one who didn’t do enough to prevent my little brother from killing himself. I carry the fault and cannot be absolved from the blame.
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In any case, I cannot absolve myself from this blame. Not ever.
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I am so very sorry, my little brother, that I didn’t know how to help you.
And I love you.
Always.
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I hope your way since then has been less tormented.
<3
I lost my sister on April 22nd, 2018, not as long ago as your brother, but I also can’t shake this feeling of guilt I have.
My sister was a bipolar Schizophrenic, and had been released from a hospital and seemed to be doing so well.
I wasn’t overly hard on her, but often put off returning her emails and text messages, always thinking I’d just reply later when I wasn’t busy. Of course, that time never came.
I was hoping over time the guilt might subside, but it’s been almost 18 months and like you, I think about it every day and the guilt hits me, wondering what might have happened if I’d have emailed and texted back.
Anyway, so sorry for your loss, and I hope that eventually you’ll realize it wasn’t your fault. I pray every night that I’ll lose these feelings of guilt, but so far it’s just not working.
My sister almost the exact same 🙁 since April 16, 2019
I’ll never stop missing her.
And I’m a guy, but to OP, “I’m that girl, too.” 🙁
I have yet to come to the realization we did everything we could.
And I think everyone on this website did because we just loved/love our siblings so much. :/
I am that girl too… Nov 1 is 3 years. 😓🦉
I’m that girl too, only the baby that couldn’t save her older brother. Lost him on 09/06/2019
Hi DJ, my (younger) brother took his life too, on 09/06/2019. My life is now “before” and “after”.
Yes, oh my it feels like this is on a light up sign above my head for all to see…
And I DID have google and other resources. I know people keep using that saying that we did the best we could with what we had but I honestly don’t think I did. There were so many times those last two weeks that I wanted to reach out and didn’t because my brain said I cant, they dont want me, I make things worse, etc etc. How do I live with that? I shouldn’t have to know how severe the circumstances were, I loved them, it shouldn’t have mattered.
I too feel regret at my knowing my brother was feeling stress, and though I could have done something at the time (like keeping in touch, sending a care package, really listening to what he needed)-I let the thought slip by- being distracted by covid-19 and other dynamics at play. I had a gut feeling that he was in trouble- I live with guilt that perhaps if I did follow my instinct there may have been a better outcome- that my brother would have felt hope and not die by suicide. I called a church and a pastor listened to my anguish- he said to me that the things I thought I could have done then to do those for others now. I am trying to be a better person- and open my heart. I have been donating items to local charities and being more generous with tipping essential workers- just trying to perhaps lift up someone as I’d wish I’d done more for for my brother. I miss him so much and apologize to him everyday. I agree that it is not the the truth to say- you did everything you could have. I also believe that if the guilt can make me a better person than that is a good thing- try not to be swallowed by it- that would be a bad thing. Keep praying and giving thanks for all that is good.