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I don't know what I'm doing
Sep. 8th, 2015 11:36 amHi Dreamwidth.
It's been a very long time. And as I never really got this journal off the ground, I very much doubt that this will be read by anyone. That's okay. I'm really just writing for me.
This year has been the hardest I've ever known, and I keep on feeling like there is something else I should be doing but I don't know what that thing is. I keep feeling as if I'm doing something wrong by trying to just keep on going and keep my mind occupied with other things.
In February my little sister attempted to commit suicide. It was horrible and stressful, but at least there was someone for me to run towards, to try and help, to be there for, even if all my attempts to help seemed to me woefully inadequate. And whilst it came as a shock, I knew that she had been struggling with depression for some time. So in some way, I think, I'd almost been waiting for something to happen. It's not been the easiest of times since it happened, but she survived. She's still struggling with depression as it's not something that could magically go away even with help and support, but she survived and she's still here and I naively thought that everything would be okay given time.
In May my little brother successfully committed suicide, most likely on his birthday, though he wasn't found until the day after. He was 22. He was so sweet and kind. Polite and helpful. I never once heard anyone say anything bad about him. He was intelligent, hard-working and appeared to be at ease with life. It completely blind sided not just me, but *everyone*. It was so out of the blue, and I've not heard of a single person that didn't find it shocking and unexpected.
I regret so much not telling him how much I loved him. My family has never really been one for open displays of affection towards each other. It's always just been taken as a given, not something that has to be spoken about, and I regret this now. I regret not being more outwardly vocal.
It's my birthday next week. And my birthday will be exactly 4 months after the day I found out he was dead. I don't know how I feel about that.
It's been a very long time. And as I never really got this journal off the ground, I very much doubt that this will be read by anyone. That's okay. I'm really just writing for me.
This year has been the hardest I've ever known, and I keep on feeling like there is something else I should be doing but I don't know what that thing is. I keep feeling as if I'm doing something wrong by trying to just keep on going and keep my mind occupied with other things.
In February my little sister attempted to commit suicide. It was horrible and stressful, but at least there was someone for me to run towards, to try and help, to be there for, even if all my attempts to help seemed to me woefully inadequate. And whilst it came as a shock, I knew that she had been struggling with depression for some time. So in some way, I think, I'd almost been waiting for something to happen. It's not been the easiest of times since it happened, but she survived. She's still struggling with depression as it's not something that could magically go away even with help and support, but she survived and she's still here and I naively thought that everything would be okay given time.
In May my little brother successfully committed suicide, most likely on his birthday, though he wasn't found until the day after. He was 22. He was so sweet and kind. Polite and helpful. I never once heard anyone say anything bad about him. He was intelligent, hard-working and appeared to be at ease with life. It completely blind sided not just me, but *everyone*. It was so out of the blue, and I've not heard of a single person that didn't find it shocking and unexpected.
I regret so much not telling him how much I loved him. My family has never really been one for open displays of affection towards each other. It's always just been taken as a given, not something that has to be spoken about, and I regret this now. I regret not being more outwardly vocal.
It's my birthday next week. And my birthday will be exactly 4 months after the day I found out he was dead. I don't know how I feel about that.
