sorry the title is supposed to be my brother almost killed himself
Hey I know this is a lot but bare with me
it all started a little over a year ago, probably close to two years. my little brother came it me, I think I was 16 at the time, and he told me that he tried to OD on allergy meds. I guess he's dumb or something because it didn't work. so when he came to me he was really scared and wouldn't talk to anyone else, but I just blew him off. I don't know what the fuck my problem was, but my little brother tried to tell me, the only person who he would go to, that he was suicidal, and I told him to piss off.
cut to a few months later and he was at a prayer meeting with my parents. he got up and left to go to the bathroom, and my friend found him there a few hours later passed out on the floor. they got him up and back home, but something didn't seem right so they took him to the hospital. on the car ride there he passed out again and lost all movement in his legs for a couple hours. he went from hospital to hospital and the the doctors thought they were seizures, but they weren't sure. for months after that, he would randomly have these "episodes" and after it would happen he would literally go paraplegic. between each episode he had super weak legs and barely walk at all. I became his caretaker pretty much and because of what he was going through destroyed my parents so bad they could barely function.
cut to months later, and he was taken to my parents church to be anointed or sum for god to fix him. I don't know if I believe in god or not, but later that day after I had let him down for a bath he suddenly started screaming because his legs started working again and he never had a episode again. I do not know if there is a god or if it's Jesus, but all I know is there had to be some deity out there.
through that whole time either his legs, my brother got really depressed and suicidal but nobody knew it. one Sunday last august while we were all out of the house my brother made a will, a goodbye note and he shot himself. somehow he missed and he didn't die, but after that he still had really bad depression and was forced into mental hospitals that would barely let him talk to us and wouldn't let him even see the sun, which made his depression even worse. ever since then I've been struggling really bad. if he had died, it would've been my fault. how do I live with myself knowing that I wouldn't listen to my suicidal brother and then he almost killed himself. now I have to live either the fact that I am one of the worst fucking brother to exist.
today in psychology class the professor was teaching about depression and suicidal an I almost had a panic attack. it brought back so much pain and regret and now I don't know what to do. I am not okay