It’s been a little over a month since you decided to end it all. April 17 at 11:45pm Japan time. Mum calls me from London and tells me the news that would shatter me. It was late for her to call – in fact I was almost asleep so almost didn’t answer. I’m glad I did cos f*** me mum needed me more than ever after you left this earth.
i booked a flight over the next morning. In less than six hours after the call I was at Haneda airport waiting for the flight. Strange how logical I was after receiving the call. First thing I did was pack my black suit even though I’d never been to a funeral before. How ironic that my first ever funeral would be my brothers and that I would have to f***ing organise it.
Day one in London and I’m having to pick out a coffin even though I’m not taking any of this s*** in. I’m contacting your friends by phone at first. Some of them cry and there I am consoling them at the other end of he phone. Inside I’m thinking it should be the other way around but I am so numb I just do what I do. Get on with the s***.
This whole month or so has been a blur. How does life continue so normally as if nothing happened? How am I still functioning? I go to work and put on a brave face. There is me at work and me at home – inside I’m worn down, wondering if this will ever hit me, am I coping okay? Is this hitting me now? How am I supposed to feel when part of me still thinks you are in the next room chilling like you always were. You were only 30- whole life ahead of you. Things hit me, like I’m 34 but you’ll never reach that age. How I was depressed and almost ended it almost a decade ago but now am so glad I didn’t. I wanted you to know that feeling. I wanted you to finally get out of the depression. You were doing so well in the past year, and when the depression hit again in February I was confident more than ever that you could come out of it in no time since this time there was no other factor involved in terms of drugs. Only pressure of life. You dealt with both before. This time it was only the pressure. I thought it would only be a little bout of depression. Boy was I wrong.
I miss you so much. We were so f***ing close man. Who am I gonna share all those jokes with now? All the brother only jokes, the funny faces, the funny sounds. You took that all with you and part of me died with you too. I’ll never get over this and everything seems to be just okay now at best. Nothing is good or great or amazing. Cos at the back of my mind you are there. You must have felt so alone when you did what you did. You left me a note and apologised for not being able to meet your future niece or nephew and that everything would be okay cos I am loved cos I have a wife. F*** me you are right. I will be okay. But never good or amazing anymore. Now that you’re gone.
But I know it wasn’t really you. I know that the depression took you. Like any disease like cancer. It overwhelmed you, took over you, and killed you. F***. I miss you so badly and there is nothing I can do about it. I’m hurting all the time especially the evenings after work like now. I wish I had been there physically with you instead of calling every day from abroad. I regret living away from you. I regret sorting out the extra meds to help you sleep. Just regrets fill my mind. Most of all I miss you.