More thoughts

Writing this blog entry earlier this evening has somehow pulled me out of my little bubble of thinking that this upcoming anniversary does not get to me. It does. I can hardly stop thinking about what has happened a year ago, this entire past year and earlier. So many ifs and whens all over the place again. I wish I had done this or that, listened more carefully, read a bit more, been there more for him. How could he not see a way out? There are so many wonderful things happening in this world, especially in this wonderful, powerful, life-affirming season of spring. And yet it has this very sad ring to it permanently attached for me. How could he not have seen all the flowers starting to bloom? He actually told our grandma a week (!!) before he died when she pointed out how wonderful the world looked that he could not see any of it. How can you miss that? How could we miss those so heart-wrenchingly obvious signs of deep depression? Why did I not gain more strength so that could have helped him more? Why did I concentrate more on my own life than his when he was so deeply struggling to fight death? How can I ever forgive myself not paying more attention, not helping more, not being there more for him? All the while I still see his own shortcomings too, he could have sought more help from professionals, fought more, not given in. Then again, am I simply trying to shift the blame away from me onto him so that my own guilt might not overwhelm me?

Abroad

It has been a long time since I wrote anything here. In a way, I guess, this is a good sign since it must mean I am going on with my life. Well, to say the least, a lot has happened these last few weeks and certainly also many good things, some of which prevented me from posting anything here, too. We had my parents-in-law over for a visit, moved to a different apartment within the same city just a couple of days after they left and then I moved on to a different country for research purposes. So here I am now, all alone without my dear husband or very many friends (although there are a few very good ones here too). I guess I fell into some sort of minor depression when I arrived here. Reasons could be that I moved right back into winter, although the weather is getting better now, I am alone and bad as well as really good memories. Good memories since I used to live here, had the most wonderful time of my life here, including meeting my husband, bad memories include my very first encounter with suicide. A very dear friend attempted suicide while I was living here. He survived – miraculously – unharmed, and by unharmed I also mean that it turned out to be a impulsive action, not caused by severe depression. To be honest, I did not understand the full meaning of it all back then. How could I? I don’t blame anyone for not understanding the full extend of what a suicide does to the dear ones who has is not living through it. Therefore, wile it did not interrupt my lifestyle altogether too much it did impact my feelings going back now. I am not always sure of how this dear friend is doing although my general feeling is a good one. But if I learned something it is that you can never tell for sure. I am praying that it will be an alright time here and praying that time here will pass quickly.
And then there is the weight I am carrying with me about all the anniversaries coming up. While I am looking forward to our first wedding anniversary, mainly because Luke will come to visit, I am also dreading it since it is a reminder of what happened two weeks later a year ago. One year ago!!
I truly hope that I can settle in here quickly now, work efficiently on my research and come home quickly. And that the anniversaries will not be too tough.

Problems again

It feels as if something or someone does not want us i.e. my family to calm down. Last week Magnus’s friend mentioned his serious suicidal thoughts in front of him. The discussion ended with the friend being transported to a psychiatric clinic by the police on my brother’s call. My parents had to come see him in his apartment to calm him down again. I was worried about my little brother having that much responsibility but also so proud of him for having done that. How could we, any of us, ever live without doing something again? Anyone mentioning such thoughts to us must be aware of that.
Last weekend we went skiing, which was good to just get me to think about something else. The worry over my brother and a general incredible sadness had taken hold of me for most of the last week. Being out in the mountains with some friends helped to get a free head again. I felt ready for another week when my dad called me Monday around noon to tell me that one of Magnus’s friends had called him (my dad) to warn him that Magnus was in what looked like a heavy depression-wave. Apparently he spent days in bed crying, skipping school, and not getting anything done. It turned out that those things happened but quite a while back and he seems to be doing relatively fine. However, it scared me deeply. I am about to go abroad again, starting in April for a research project, and I worry so much about my little brother. It seems to be a repetition of the time I went to the same country a few years ago when he had some serious problems, too. Back then I did not see quite how serious they were. What, if I am underestimating them yet again? These thoughts seem to haunt me. How can I be sure nothing will happen this time? Somewhere deep down I do trust Magnus that he will be fine but then again I have been wrong before. I would have, no I have sworn that Alexander would be fine yet he did the most awful thing he could have done and took his life. Oh, if I would only know better what to do this time and would know that what I am doing if fine.
Last night I got the text message of an old high school friend of mine whom we were planning to meet over the weekend saying that her dad had just died. Her dad! Another shock, he was a really kind guy whom I had met on several occasions when we were over at her house during school time. What would I do if my dad died now? I am praying that nothing like that will happen to us in the near future. I don’t think we could take it.
Now I will have to attend the first funeral since Alexander’s next week. I am shivering when I think of it. Hopefully it will not remind me of my dear brother's funeral too much.
I am praying this is the last bit of bad news before I have to go. I am scared to be all alone over there for a couple of months and it certainly does not help to know that my family is not doing completely fine. I just love them all so much that I cannot stop myself thinking and worrying about them even though I know that I have to give myself time to grief, time to heal and time to work on my own projects. Easier said than done.

Mood Swings

I am still reading all I can find about suicide survivors, their stories and professional help books. In one of them I found the following of which I think helps my husband to deal with me a little easier:

“A persistent component of the process of recovery seems to be the mood swings which persist through the weeks and months of mourning like an endless ride on a rollercoaster. One soars to a euphoric peak on a Sunday and then, within the week, dives into a hellish abyss. […]” (Iris Bolton: My Son… My Son… A Guide to Healing After Death, Loss, or Suicide)

This seems to be a very precise description of how I feel so often. Just wanted to share that, maybe it helps someone else to realize that they are not crazy all of a sudden, either.

An important message

I have been in an online support group for siblings for a while now. Through the group I received this message from Father Rubey who runs a LOSS program in Chicago. I wanted to share it with you since I think it has some important thoughts in it that help me through this holiday season. It was sent on Thanksgiving but obviously is true much longer.


November 2009

I recently made a trip to Ireland to visit family. While I was there a very tragic event made the news. It was about the tragic deaths of two young men. Both were twenty-two years of age. One of them suffered from mental illness and went off his medications. He was stalking his ex-girlfriend who was dating the other young man. The young man who suffered from mental illness stabbed the other young man and killed him. The one suffering from mental illness then stabbed himself to death. He injured the young woman during the fracas. The mother of the young man who was stabbed to death gave a eulogy at her son’s funeral. She said some very powerful things that resonated with me. She said “And now I ask what is my God of small things saying to me about this incomprehensible act which took place in our home last Sunday morning. This tragic event caused mayhem in all of our lives and robbed us of a son and a brother. We live in a world of contrasts – big, small, hard, soft, good, bad, dark and light. One cannot paint a picture without at least two shades. It is the dark which gives definition to the light. Darkness is just the lack of light. On that Sunday morning my God of small things said to me that one boy represented the light and the other boy represented the darkness through no fault of his own. Both played out their parts in the unfolding of God’s plan. As a result of this our family is faced with a choice. We can continue to live in darkness seeing only fear, anger,bitterness, resentment, blaming, blaming, blaming or are we ready to transmute this negativity? We can rise to the challenge with unconditional love knowing that we were born to this earth to grow. Our hearts are broken but maybe our hearts needed to be broken so that we could expand and grow.”

I thought of our LOSS family as I read this news account. Survivors’ hearts are broken as they mourn the tragic loss of a loved one from suicide. Survivors are met with a very big challenge as they grieve the loss of a loved from suicide. Survivors need to feel the tremendous pain resulting from the death of a loved from suicide. This is all part of the grief journey and it is very painful. But as this woman said, maybe hearts need to be broken in order to grow. Grow into what? That is the challenge of any survivor. Now that this tragedy has become part of the life of a survivor what is the survivor going to do with it? There can be a life of negativity and darkness or there can be a life of light and positive thinking. This takes time to develop into something positive but the question that each survivor must ask themselves is: What am I going to do with this tragic event? Hopefully, survivors are going to allow themselves to be transformed into positive thinking individuals who see rays of hope and growth in the tragic events of life.

We hear a lot about evolution these days. Our world is evolving constantly in different directions. We are also evolving and are part of an ongoing creative part of our world. We co-create with a higher power that some of us call God. We become participants in the process of life and we assist in developing the world around us. All around us we see growth and so must we grow from all of our life’s experiences –both the good and the bad, the pleasant and the unpleasant. Our world is not fixed. It is constantly changing and evolving. The challenge for all of us is to see events in our lives not as obstacles or barriers but as opportunities for human growth and evolution into richer and more caring human beings. That is not always an easy task. It is very demanding and sometimes it is a very painful experience. Survivors can bemoan the fact that pain has entered their lives. There is no rhyme or reason why the suicide of a loved one enters someone’s life. Survivors try to figure out why this happened to them. That is a very normal question to ask. It has happened and now what will a survivor do with this awful experience? That is the crucial question and one that survivors need to ask themselves. Will this experience be the cause of destruction or will it be the cause of human growth and evolution into a more positive and caring person and one who will see this experience as an opportunity to become a better person. That is the challenge.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving this year, hopefully we can experience things to be thankful for. Survivors will always miss that loved one who found life too painful but there are other people who are a part of the lives of survivors. They are gifts to a broken heart. They are rays of hope to the crestfallen. They are reasons to be thankful on this day and this time of the year. Survivors can concentrate on what is missing or they can concentrate on what is present. The evolving person can be richer and more appreciative of  what one has in life. The evolving person has survived a great challenge, That is reason to be thankful.

Survivors long for the life that they had before the suicide. They want to hark back to what once was and never will be again. The challenge is to embrace the evolving person and to embrace the situations in life that can be the cause of a new and enriched person. Life is a continuing process of evolution and survivors can either get lost in the process or be a part of this evolution. My prayer is that you are part of the latter.

As I gather on Thanksgiving Day I want to assure each and every member of the LOSS family of my thoughts and prayers for you because I am very grateful to be a part of this family. I am enriched and better because I have journeyed this path with many of you. Thanks for allowing me this unique opportunity. I encourage you to remember each other in thought and prayer –especially on thanksgiving Day and especially for those who have recently joined our family.

Keep On Keepin' On.
Father Rubey

A Quote

I found this quote today on the internet, unfortunately I don't remember the source anymore. If I still find it again I will add it. I just really thought this to be so true:

Suicide does not solve the problems, it just shifts them on the shoulders of others.

Dreams and thoughts

I don’t dream much of Alexander. If I dream there are more somehow scary dreams that are not directly related to him. I wish I could see him in my dreams and ask him the questions that I have for him. But it is not happening. However my brother, Alexander’s twin brother, dreamt of him. In his dream Alexander sat on a chair, leaning back casually how he used to do it and said “well, guess it just is how it is now. Can’t change anything anymore. Gotta go with it.” This dream and what he said has been following me the last few days. This is probably partly because it is so much like Alexander. It sounds so exactly like something he might say if you asked him today. But I feel like I want more from him. I want to know whether he is sorry or not, would he do something different if he could choose again? Is he sorry for the pain he caused us? Or is he really still so narcissistic that he does not see what he does to his loved ones? I wish I could get an answer.
Alexander was a difficult brother. There used to be a time when we were really close, when we were children. I loved him dearly, we did excursions, sometimes even only the two of us. I could not imagine going with anyone of the others but him. Obviously, being brother and sister, we still got caught in fights a lot too but they were never really serious. When we were teenagers we fought a lot more. I think that I felt as if he challenged my position as the oldest child in the family. These were bad fights now and it took us a long time to get past them. I don’t think that we ever got as close as we have been in our early childhood however. In his last year on this earth he started confiding in me and told me many of his problems. From my knowledge of today I know that they were only a minor fraction of what was bothering him, but it was a start. I felt like I really wanted to help him, so I tried. I tried talking to him, getting him to seek professional help, just being there for him, listening to him, arguing with him etc. I turned out that nothing helped. I could do nothing to change his mind in the end. It makes me so sad to know that I failed him. I often just talked with my mum about how best to help him. I think that it might have been better to just direct all that energy in talking about how to help him directly towards him. But it was so difficult to advise him what to do. He wouldn’t want to hear much of it. Only in certain moments you would not get screamed at immediately or he would not turn back at you and hurt you so deeply that you had to turn from him. The fear of something like that happening often kept me from talking with him directly. I wish I had been so scared. I know I am strong enough to take a lot so why did I not just let it happen? I am sorry, Alexander, that I failed to help you. I can’t even accuse you that you did not tell me what you were thinking about. I knew you were contemplating to do it and yet I did not do enough to keep you from doing it. I feel so guilty for that.

Family weekend

Finally we made it to my parents' this weekend. I was pretty nervous on Friday about how it would go, how it would hit me again. As I wrote in a previous post it always seems as if everything is getting more real when I am there and can be at the grave, too. I dread this feeling and at the same time I long for it as a way to start understanding, to start believing this actually happened. However, this time it was different. There was no such thing as understanding or believing. I think on a day where all of us are together and there is still someone missing I might start feeling it more. The past few days we were - now - almost complete, only my youngest brother missing. And Alexander, of course. But with two gone it seems normal, it was so rare that we were all together except for special occasions. And on Saturday we were working hard in the garden which kept thoughts to a minimum.
When we went to the grave today it still did not make me believe that my brother, my brother is actually buried there. Too surreal. Since it is also my grandfather's grave I see him there. I cannot shed any tears when I am there which makes me feel bad then, too.
What feels good is to talk about him and to share where we are standing. This, of course, is not always possible. On Saturday morning I think I was simply overwhelmed with so many dear family members around, making the same kind of bad jokes as always. I was sad and so those comments did not settle well with me. But then they are there for you too and give you a hug when you can take it. This is family, and I love it. I wish Alexander would have seen this amazing gift here, too. Then again I feel like he did know, he did feel it somewhere deep down. There must be a reason he did not do this when he was in the city he was studying in, that he did come home for so many weekends before. He would have never acknowledged that but I hope he felt it. I hope that he still felt somewhere deep down how much we all loved him. I know I am repeating myself here but this is so important to me, so so important. I wish I would have a way to tell him again how much he means to me.
I am not sure whether I mentioned this before but Alexander's vision of things and life in general were strongly changed by his bipolar disorder. In addition to that he took drugs for many years which might be the reason for his changed personality compared to his childhood. Now his drug use was not the most extensive and he managed very well to hide it from us how much he was taking. He did not make it easy for us to try to help him. In his bad times he kept pushing his loved ones away, hurting them knowingly and deep down. He was smart enough to know what to say or do. We still stood by him, loved him and kept trying and trying to do the right thing to make him see what he did. To understand this I have to say that none of us knew of his diagnosis until after his death. He himself must have, according to diaries, known from at least March onwards. While I did know he had depressions I still mainly believed that it was his temper that made him act like that. Now I know it was his illness. You would not believe how sorry he felt once he realized, often many months later, how he had hurt you. When another person would have forgotten about it he started thinking about it. And in his manic phases he was the most amazing brother ever. Sooo charming, so good looking, such a warm, catching smile, so smart and clever.
I noticed today how I am starting to remember those good times more. I just miss him so much that I think I am not forgetting, but simply feeling the good times more. Probably a natural thing but still so different. Of course there comes the fact too that I do now know what I did not then, that his illness often made him behave in a way different to what he might have done otherwise.
I plan to say a bit more about his personalty and his manic depression at some point although not today. Today I am just glad that I have my family and my dear husband to go through this together with.

My story - the funeral and the time since then

The day of the funeral was unreal. I do not know whether this is the word to describe it but certainly it was just not meant to be. I mean, how can I put my 23 year old brother to rest in a cemetery? He is meant to live for many more years! It is not right that he is in this coffin! I felt so helpless, I am the older sister, I should be able to help him, right? Why did he not come to me, why could I not help him? I would have moved heaven and earth to help him, to keep him alive!
I had not been to a service since my wedding. Isn't that awful? And then it happened that since were so many the front church pew was not long enough. So there were two chairs next to the pew. They were standing in the middle aisle. Since Luke and me were the last ones of my family to enter the church we had to sit there on those chairs. I could not help but think of our wedding just two weeks ago where we were sitting in a similar position but my world was still alright and the best it could have been.
Many of Alexander's friends had called us and wanted to contribute to the service. When his school friends, also trained singers, started singing, it was as if Alexander were up there. One of them had the same pitch of the voice. I wanted him to stop singing so badly even though it was so nice and beautiful and moving.
Our priest gave a wonderful sermon letting people know of how torn Alexander was inside himself without leaving out to mention his great smile, wonderful bright eyes, his warmth when he went to hug you. He had this wonderful gift of being 100% there for someone else who needed him. However, he could hurt you just as bad, too. And the priest encouraged us survivors to live. I am still trying.
There were hundreds of people to walk with him on his last way on this earth. Too many young people. I mean, there should be mainly old people when a funeral takes place, right?
Alexander had always said the last few weeks how he was so alone. There were sooo many friends of his there to be with him one last time! He was not alone. One of them wrote us later, even though Alexander could not see it any more, he had many friends who were there for him and now miss him dearly. A few brought a tree the day of his funeral. The next day they came to pick it up again - they were going to plant it in their garden but wanted to show him the tree first. Now they can still have him with them in years to come when they party or have barbecue in that garden. How wonderful and yet so depressing to know that he had the friends, but could simply not see it anymore.
On Saturday we moved his stuff out of his place in the town where he studied. I was not there, I did not need to see the room. Alexander had only moved in there right after our wedding, so he barely lived there for two weeks. Ever since then it became real in a certain way that he is gone when I saw his stuff.
On Sunday night we went back to our home. The next few weeks now almost two months were tough. I got to know myself in ways that I did not need to know. Sometimes I get angry and upset without reason. Sometimes poor Luke is in my way then. I am so sorry for not being able to deal with my emotions at all times. We went to see my parents fairly often. While it was good to see them it was always really hard to be there, too. But what I miss most here is not being able to go to his grave. The first month I could barely even cry. I thought I had to cry a lot. But tears came, although not nearly as often as I thought they had to come. Just before the first four weeks had passed I started having really bad weeks where I could not do anything. I had to write a paper for school but was unable to even do the tasks I usually do to keep me from my desk. I have never before felt so completely helpless. I finally managed to hand in my paper last Tuesday after receiving some help from my professor, my aunt and my parents. I believe I would not have managed to finish in time without their help. Thanks for your help!

My story - After the news

As said before, my mum wanted us down as soon as possible. I did not know what I wanted so I just tried to do what she told me to do. Since we do not own a car it was a little bit complicated to get down leaving around 10pm on a Sunday night. Thankfully, we could still rent a car, had friends of ours to drive us to the rental agency and then went onto the highway. It was a horrible drive. In the beginning we were still full of adrenaline but that left after two or so hours. Then it started raining heavily, and Luke had to drive all the way because I had enjoyed too much wine previously. It was a horrible drive. Around 2.30 in the morning we finally arrived at my parents house. I could only hold my parents, my brother and cry. Although it was so late we sat down and they told me what had happened.
That night we did not sleep much. In the morning we got up and were the first ones after my mum who was on the phone when we came into the dining room. We did not want to disturb her, so we left the room. When she hung up I could hear her starting to sob heavily. Immediately I went in to hug her but our dog was faster. The dog had heard my mum, too, and just went to her chair and leaned on her legs looking at her as if she was trying to comfort her. I will never forget this scene, how she was so fast in feeling what my mum needed.
The day was tough. We had to go to the funeral home and arrange the funeral. It was decided to be held on Friday, May 8. I created the draft of the obituary, too. That was the first time I really noticed that my brother was gone. You know, when you are children you are always called in a certain way. Well, it was so often that I put the names of the six of us in the order of birth next to each other. So when it came to put down the names of us siblings I just started writing the names, including Alexander. Only after I had written his name did I notice I had to delete it again. His name was on the top of the obituary. I am crying while typing this. I can still not believe that I really, really lost my younger brother. How could this happen?
The next day, Tuesday, Luke, my youngest brother and me went to see the priest that married Luke and me. It was good to talk with him. One thing of our conversation is still helping me. In the hope that it might still help someone else, too, I will share it here. Our priest told us about a young child with a fatal disease. The parents came to the priest to have their child baptized. He asked them how they could still be so hopeful. They answered that another young child had told them how it happened to be that their child had to die: It is really simple. God cannot heal him down here on earth, he has to take him up into heaven to be able to heal him completely.
That night the coffin was brought to our house for the viewing. Alexander stayed with us for the night. I went to see him and talk to him in the hope to really see myself that my brother is really gone. I did not recognize him anymore. Only his hands were still his hands. It did not give me the relieve I had hoped it would give me.
Early the next morning they picked him up again. When I saw the car with him disappear around the corner, leaving our home for the last time, it was as if something broke inside me again. And yet there was my mum behind me crying, too. Thankfully my brother was there to hold her, I could not have managed to do it.
The days before Friday were busy arranging flowers, talking with the priest who was going to do the sermon for Alexander, sending out the obituary notices and just being there for one another. We felt that we all got so incredibly close to one another. Not that we had not been close before, but this was a new closeness. I was glad to have a husband beside me to help me get through those days. As the oldest sister I felt like having to hold my younger siblings, being there for my parents, too. So I was and still am so grateful to have someone to lean on.

My story - 3 May 2009

It is difficult to write this part. Even after almost two months it is so hard.
On Sunday morning we had an extended breakfast, a relaxed day with still getting lots of things done like cleaning the apartment. For dinner I cooked a really nice meal, asparagus with new potatoes, a first timer for me. I had lots of wine with it, my husband fortunately a bit less. After dinner Luke went ahead and started making brownies to take with him to work the next day since they were planning to give him their gift for our wedding. While he made the dough I uploaded the pictures of our wedding so that our guest could finally look at them. We were still in so good spirits!
Around 9 pm the phone rang. It was my mum. I have never heard her say my name like she did and I hope I will never hear it like this again. I knew immediately something bad had happened. I even referred it to Alexander. She said something like "Alexander shot himself. You and Luke have to come home." I did not ask any questions. I just said OK and hung up. I was in shock. I don't remember what I did next, Luke told me. Apparently I just leaned against the wall, slid down and sat completely powerless on the ground. Finally I told Luke, Alexander shot himself. He asked me whether he was dead. Only then did I realize that I did not know for sure. All of a sudden there was this little bit of hope inside me, even though I knew the answer. I called my mum back and asked. After that, I knew for sure that my little brother had died.

What this blog is about

This is meant to introduce myself and explain the reason for starting this blog. I lost my dear brother, Alexander, on May 3rd of this year to suicide. He was only 23 years old. Ever since then I am trying to find ways to deal with the grief that took hold of me after I learned of his decision to end his life.
I do not know how this will go, but I think for myself this blog could prove helpful in learning how to live with this incredible loss. Please forgive me if I feel that I need to end it sooner than I imagine right now - as I said, it is only an attempt of finding a way through this difficult time.
Another reason for starting this blog, however, is to share with you my feelings so that you might find a little bit of consolation if you are a survivor, too, that you are not alone with this grief. And if you found this site because you are thinking about ending your life I hope you will think again. It is unimaginable how the decision of one person can change so many lives profoundly.