When I started, or more accurately RE-started this blog, I thought I would probably use it mostly as a vehicle to vent some emotion. There was just so much tragedy in my life that I felt like I needed a release valve.
As it turned out, I didn't really need it so much for the hard stuff. I guess that's what that $200 an hour therapist was for, huh?! So this blog gradually became more of a place to talk about funny things my boys did or just a place to exercise my brain by making it come up with a story or two.
But this Sunday, Mother's Day, would be my brother's 48th birthday. And yesterday that hit me like a ton of bricks. This is the first birthday we'll mark without him. His family will have to get through Father's Day next month and the anniversary of his death in July. And just like that, a year has gone by since he took his own life.
As I was lying in bed last night with my husband's arms around me and tears streaming down my face, I wondered if it would ever get easier. I guess time will eventually blur the sharp edges, but for now it feels like I'm stuck in the same place, feeling the same emotions as I was the day I heard my brother killed himself.
Here's the thing I've learned about suicide: a huge part of the emotion I feel is flat-out ANGER. And the only person I can be angry at is Scott. He did it. He inflicted this pain on our family with no warning and no explanation. We're still as baffled by it today as we were 10 months ago. I will never be able to reconcile the brother I thought I knew with the person who aimed a gun at his own chest and pulled the trigger. It's still as totally inconceivable today as it was then. There's so much more to grapple with than just sadness and missing.
I'm PISSED at him. I'm pissed that he didn't give any of us a clue that he was so miserable - not his only little sister or his parents or his 3 children or his wife of 21 years. I'm pissed that he didn't reach out for help. I'm pissed that he chose to kill himself.
If he'd been killed by a drunk driver, I could be pissed off at the idiot who did it. If he'd been killed by cancer, I could be pissed off at the disease. With ANY other cause of death, I could direct my anger toward someone or something else for taking my brother's life. But because of the path he chose, my anger still rages at him. And that makes for a pretty awful mix when you add in the overwhelming sadness and longing. And on top of all that there's the guilt I feel for being angry at him in the first place. It just plain sucks.
I miss you Scott. I hope more than anything that your soul is at rest and you've found peace. I hope I get to see you again someday. Cause I'm gonna kick your ass when I do. Happy Birthday bubby.