I was not able to save my One and Only Brother
My only brother died by suicide, and I’m still trying to understand why.
He was a soldier assigned far from his family. He had two very young children, and for a long time he had been saying he wanted to resign because he was tired of being away from them. But he couldn’t leave because they were drowning in debt.
A big part of their financial problems came from online gambling. His wife became addicted to it, and at one point my brother even took out a 300k loan to help them recover, but the money was lost to gambling again. Despite that, he still tried to save their family. He went home, forgave her, and they agreed to start over.
But I think the weight never really left him.
He would often open up when drunk, saying he was struggling financially. About a year ago, during the time his child was hospitalized and he had no money, he messaged me saying he ‘couldn’t take it anymore.’ When I called him, he brushed it off as a joke. After that, he started telling me things like, ‘If something happens to me, please guide my children.’ At the time, I didn’t realize how serious those words were.
He also struggled with gambling himself at some point. I think he carried a lot of guilt, shame, and pressure as a father and provider.
One thing that keeps replaying in my mind is how my brother would sometimes ask me, “Nagkapera ka na ba kuya?” At first I thought he was just joking, but now I realize maybe he was holding onto hope that one day things would get better for all of us.
The hardest part for me to process is what happened on his last day.
He was supposed to go home for his child’s birthday, but his leave got canceled. On the morning he died, he video called his wife and watched his kids swimming. He said something like, ‘It will be a long time before I can swim with them again.’
Twenty minutes later, he died by suicide in the barracks.
What confuses me is that he still sounded loving and normal. He was sweet to his wife, talked about his children all the time, and clearly loved them deeply. That’s why I keep struggling to understand how someone who wanted so badly to be with his family could still reach that point.
Now I’m left with grief, guilt and endless questions. I don’t know if I’m posting this to look for answers or just to let this pain out.