When my brother passed away my world seemed to come to a complete stand still. For those six months I couldn’t tell you exactly what went on in my life besides the typical going to work and coming home. I gave up on maintaining the front yard, back yard, pets, and the house. I didn’t cook one single meal the whole time. I suppose I should consider it lucky I managed to wash my clothes.
Christmas was a depressing matter. My younger brother and I discussed it and were very adamant on not continuing the stereotypical family get together and over the top gifts. We considered it a time that was our older brother’s. After all, he was in the Navy, and on the other side of the country. For the past ten plus years if we didn’t see him at Christmas, we wouldn’t have seen him at all. Every single year I fought tooth-and-nail working my schedule around so I was able to have a week with him and my parents. It was our time to be with him, and the holiday was really mainly about that.
But, in typical parent fashion, we were over ruled and convinced that it was something my older brother would have wanted. He loved the holiday, and it was special for him, so we should celebrate it. I tried so hard to make up for his loss, after all he was a brother that just seemed to take after my dad and go all out on gifts. I didn’t want my parents or anyone to feel his loss more than we all already were, so I tried going over the top like him. I don’t know if that succeeded.
Anyway, so Christmas, it came and it went. It was filled with a lot of heartache and regrets, and was quickly replaced with the New Year. However, since I lost the battle against Christmas, I suppose I decided to wage another one over the New Year. My new battle was basically a big screw you to those I dared to call friends in my life.
At this stage after my brother’s death I felt abandoned. My friends were great being there that first week after learning about the suicide, but it seemed radio silence followed that. For six long months, up until my dad’s death I didn’t receive one phone call, one card, one visit. I did receive one text, though roughly four to five months later, but the bitterness already settled, and it was just a message saying hi, so I didn’t follow up with it.
Now I figure I have a small group of friends, but they are life time friends. However it wasn’t until my dad passed that things changed…though that is kind of obvious. With my dad’s passing I became a busy body. I needed to clean, work on the yard, and just get things done again. I also read like crazy…still am reading like crazy but that’s to be expected since it’s only been a little over a month since. In some ways I am still a recluse, but a bit more functional.
Since my dad’s passing I did reach out to my closest friends to let them know. I even forced a heart-to-heart about feeling abandoned from their lack of communication since my brother’s passing. For those that are facing the same situation and turmoil as me, or perhaps know someone who is, please…the feel of being abandoned is high up there. I just lost my brother, and my father, and now my friends are at a loss of what to say to me, so instead said nothing.
Bad choice.
It was a bad choice on my end, but I just didn’t care to try. But I will argue, who could blame me? Looking at it all, I understand the situation it places people. It’s uncomfortable and daunting, trying to be there for someone that is faced with suicide. People ask me how I am doing, how is my family, and the standard small talk greetings when being friendly, but the truth is no one wants to hear you say what’s on your mind. That life just keeps kicking you when you’re down and half of your family just became ashes in the wind all in a year. So yeah…
Not exactly sure what this whole entry is about, other than I took each death completely different, and the ever present feeling of abandonment from those here, and those now gone. Sad thing is, one of my dad’s reasoning for taking his life was for that same feeling.
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never ending loop 