I lost my brother to suicide 15 years ago when I was 8 years old. He was much older than I was and struggled with alcoholism and addiction. He was not around a lot and I struggle to remember much from that age. Sometimes I feel guilty because I know there are people who had much more time and a much stronger relationship with the sibling they lost, than I had with mine.
As I’ve entered adulthood, I’ve started to struggle more with his death than I did when it actually happened and have started to see the effects it’s had on my relationships as I’ve gotten older. I found this site and I think I needed to vent to an audience that could understand and maybe help me feel a little less crazy that even with limited memories and a lot of time, I still can’t seem to shake the feeling of abandonment. I know there was little I could do to help at such a young age, but all I can think is “I wish I had been enough”.
I really wish I had had more time with him. I still think about him everyday and what it would be like to really know him.