Today marks exactly eight-and-a-half years since the day you died, just over a week before your 22nd birthday. I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past couple of weeks. Google says you lived about 75 days shy of 5,000, or about 7.1 million minutes. Each year since you left is a smidge easier than the last, but the loss of you will always ache. I’ve cried for days writing this letter. (more…)
As I prepare for a lengthy and fulfilling career as a psychotherapist, one of my greatest fears is how I will help suicidal clients. My thirteen-year-old brother killed himself a week before I turned seventeen, and although his suicide is a topic which regularly invades my mind and which I openly discuss with anyone who asks, I am concerned that in a professional setting, I may not be able to maintain the sufficient emotional composure which my client-therapist relationships will require. Suicide may always be too “close to home” of a topic, despite the time which has passed since Connor’s death. But even as angry, disappointed, and frustrated as I am with Connor for killing himself, his suicide forced me to reconsider my views on the subject. (more…)
I recently watched the documentary, “Bully”, for the first time (gotta love Netflix) and ended up crying through most of it. As the name suggests, the film features a number of adolescents sharing their experiences as victims of bullying.
My brother killed himself five years ago. A brainy loner, he (more…)
When someone you know has a death in the family, there are a few things you’re expected to do. When my brother died, people came out of the woodwork to comfort my family, yet many ended up relying on us to console them because the story of his suicide made them sad. (more…)