u/Indication8227

I am a middle aged man. My younger brother killed himself about a week ago after struggling with mental illness and depression for years, and I honestly feel like besides me, nobody in my family really supported him emotionally. He was going to therapy for years but said it didn't help no matter who he tried and quit because he felt like he was draining his money. My parents would either dismiss what he was going through, avoid talking about it, or act uncomfortable whenever he opened up.

The saddest part is he was genuinely intelligent and ambitious. He had dreams of becoming a doctor, completed med school, and was literally about to start residency. From the outside, people probably thought he had his life together. But behind the scenes he was isolated. He had no real friends, barely talked to anyone outside of me, and seemed exhausted emotionally all the time.

After he died, I found some of his personal writings and diary entries in his apartment. I haven’t read them because it feels wrong and invasive, especially now that he can’t consent. But, my mind keeps filling in the blanks and I hate speculating about what he was truly feeling near the end.

I feel heartbroken, and honestly just lost. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with all these thoughts. Has anyone else been through something similar? How do you cope with the grief and the constant "what ifs"?

I am a middle aged man. My younger brother killed himself about a week ago after struggling with mental illness and depression for years, and I honestly feel like besides me, nobody in my family really supported him emotionally. He was going to therapy for years but said it didn't help no matter who he tried and quit because he felt like he was draining his money. My parents would either dismiss what he was going through, avoid talking about it, or act uncomfortable whenever he opened up.

The saddest part is he was genuinely intelligent and ambitious. He had dreams of becoming a doctor, completed med school, and was literally about to start residency. From the outside, people probably thought he had his life together. But behind the scenes he was isolated. He had no real friends, barely talked to anyone outside of me, and seemed exhausted emotionally all the time.

After he died, I found some of his personal writings and diary entries in his apartment. I haven’t read them because it feels wrong and invasive, especially now that he can’t consent. But, my mind keeps filling in the blanks and I hate speculating about what he was truly feeling near the end.

I feel heartbroken, and honestly just lost. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with all these thoughts. Has anyone else been through something similar? How do you cope with the grief and the constant "what ifs"?