Okay, so I'll preface all this by saying I realize I am a complete dumbass on this board. I realize that but what I am about to say is 100% true. It happened. And I can only hope it will be read, pondered on, and taken to heart. Truly taken to heart. For some it may hit close to home. If it does, I apologize in advance. However my intentions are pure. I post it because I truly hope someone here reads it, and in some way, today, tomorrow, next week, next month or next year, can turn it on end and into something positive.
On Friday night, my brother took his own life with one of his guns. He was 39. He was a great-looking man who taught like myself, though high school, and was extremely talented and passionate. He was extremely intelligent, went to a very good, 300+ year old college (I believe at the time he matriculated, it was the most selective college in the country--not that that's a tell-all but you get my point), was hard-working to a fault (had two Masters and always worked night jobs), was in amazing physical condition, was an amazing coach, very good rock climber who tackled the Gunks in NY which I think had 5-10's or 5-11"s he conquered for those of you who know what I'm talking about, a surfer of decent ability, great cook, and talented musician who had his own CD produced and put on I-tunes, though if I'm being honest probably doesn't mean much and wasn't my cup of tea. He had so, so much going for him. But he still took his own life.
I mention this because the signs were there. Despite all his amazing qualities, he was volatile. Though he was intense 24/7, almost no one other than myself or my parents probably saw it kicked up a few more notches into a scary side, and it was for this reason he and I didn't speak. We were probably only on speaking terms for about four out of the last 10 years. Out of my choice. Over that time, he had three different blow-ups after which I told my mother, "I don't need to be around that. I don't need that around my future children. His drama's ridiculous." It wasn't simple anger. He was complex and went through some things in his life which ultimately led to his demise. I said to my parents that he was a tortured soul who was always chasing something he couldn't find. And hell, I've thought that about him for years.
Again, the warning signs were there. I had literally said to my parents and a few other people that he'd probably take his own life or someone else's at some point. Thank God the latter didn't happen. And while I had essentially removed myself from his life, I can't help but feel some feelings of regret. Regret that I could have at least once called him or sent him an email trying to help. If I'm being honest with myself, I doubt he would have listened. But in my heart, I know I was the one he always unconditionally loved. Not my parents for childhood reasons which my brother never got over. Me.
But I did nothing about it. Others still can. Some of you may know someone who you believe needs help but like my brother doesn't want it. So what. Try. Be persistent. Be there for them full of love in your heart and try. Have others do the same. It can't hurt.
Maybe that's not totally true. Had my parents, specifically my dad really, been too persistent in trying to reach out, I think he may gone after my father. Knowing that rage was within him probably held me back from trying myself. I didn't want to be at the end of his barrel. But everyone is different. Use your best judgment, try (there are so many ways one can try) at least once to help a loved one or someone who you may not even be that close to who you feel needs a helping hand. I'm not saying to pity them. Pity is ******** and offensive and people can see it a mile away.
I don't want anyone to pity me. It is what it is. Volatile people do volatile things especially when other elements which I'd rather not divulge are involved. But do the right thing and reach out to people when you think they need the help.
Do the right thing.
I love you brother.
