Concerning my brother’s suicide
For a self imposed insomniac, the night is early at half past ten. It still has a chance to end well if I get this off my chest and get back to watching old movies while eating over buttered popcorn.
The thing is, I can’t stop crying when I hear stringed instruments. I’ve always loved the cello, it’s my favorite with the violin next. I just wonder, am I going to cry every time I hear the violin? I want right now to say that this is pure grief, but I’m angry. I’m angry that strings make me cry instead of proud that he played so well. I’m angry that my brother taking his life means not even music is the same.
I realized something, every suicide I hear about brings up my brother. Chris Cornell was a total and complete shock. I didn’t even read an article about it until the other day. I couldn’t look at it. For right now, I can’t read blogs that touch on this subject. I am far too maxed. It doesn’t mean I don’t care or that bloggers should change their subject matter. It’s just that I can’t do it. It’s the same as not being able to read blogs about mother / daughter sexual abuse. It doesn’t mean I don’t care, it means I don’t have the strength to offer. I’m really sorry.
I saw some stuff online about reaching out to people who are suicidal. I believe people should reach out to the depressed and that the depressed should reach out for help. I also believe that those on the surviving end of a suicide should not be forgotten. For some reason, my friends missed the depression concerning his suicide and the death of my mother. Sometimes I can reach out but other times I feel too tired and need someone to reach for me. I have called my friends at midnight or later because I just couldn’t make it stop and it’s just too hard to do alone. I tell them I just need a friend and that even silence is okay as long as I’m not alone…just drowning.
Some people aren’t able to ask point blank for what they need or maybe they don’t know. I don’t always know. What I do know is that being left behind by a suicide is heart wrenching, pass out crying, vomit up your very being, emotional leprosy. It just eats at me and eats at me. This is so messed up.
I haven’t figured out yet why I put this entry under the category, “I’m only human.” Is that so I can remember that he was only human or that I’m only human and can’t do this one by myself? Humans break, we are breakable ……
I started this entry at 10:37 pm. It’s now 12:42 am.
I’ll talk to Dr. D tomorrow afternoon. I’m tired now.