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Posted on March 31 2014
Growing up I always knew my family wasn't the normal "happy" family. As time passed, things only got worse. At 19, my father took his life using a gun to leave no room for any chance of survival. My older brother, my rock and closest person to me my entire life, soon followed in my father's footsteps, choosing the same violent traumatic way. This not only leaves scars, but vivid images that cease to escape your mind ever. There are no answers to the many questions. There are no answers to if I had done this or that. They are simply gone. Vanished from existence. Leaving those behind to carry the burden they once had. This burden left my oldest nephew with a lot of mential problems, myself with severe anxiety and PTSD. The pain does not stop with suicide, it just passes along to the family that loved them. These people, more often than not, do not want to die, they simply want the pain to stop. We, as a society, need to learn to recognize this pain as real, support one another, help one another. I do not know what the last straw was for my brother or dad? It could have been an unkind stranger having a bad day. I believe in suicide can be prevented and people can live happy lives if we work together to be better as people. Kinder, more understanding.