On Aug. 1st, my world plummeted into a void. My youngest brother died by suicide and my family will never be the same. It cannot remain taboo to speak out about suicide, to speak out about mental illness, and to speak out about depression. Because when it is taboo, people will hide what they are going through and the end result is... this.
My brother was a carer, of anyone and everyone. He gave of himself so much over the years, but was never one to let anyone know how he himself suffered. I think he became convinced he could not share his vulnerabilities with anyone, despite how he was hurting.
And in the end, that isolation led him to the only solution he could see. An end to his pain meant an end to his life. And although his pain has ceased, ours is massive. My heart is so broken. I will miss him forever.