Today marks the two-year anniversary of the last time my entire family was together.
My brother and sister traveled to my house with their families, since Mom was not yet able to travel at that point, and we all had a lovely time together. This was something that didn’t happen often, all five of “the originals” being in one place, especially over the last years of my brother’s life.
We took a family picture of the five of us, which hadn’t happened in at least five years. We also took sibling pictures — Jason, Christie, and I hammed it up in some and tried to behave in others while we captured moments that my sister and I now treasure more than we could have imagined on that day.
I am so grateful my sister suggested doing that. I hate having my picture taken. I have never been happy with myself, and I have spent years stepping out of every picture as soon as a camera came out. But when my big sister is insistent about something, I tend to listen. 
And thank God I did.
I have tried hard to stop doing that these days. You never realize how important pictures are till that’s all you have.
This day also marks the twenty-month anniversary of my brother’s death.
We lost my brother to suicide in August of 2021. He battled the voice screaming in his head for thirty years, and on that day, though we have no idea what the final straw was, he couldn’t fight any longer.
That does not mean he was selfish, as so many people love to say about victims of suicide, or that he was weak, as an article I had the misfortune to run across last night indicated.
It means he was exhausted. He spent years running from his demons and the overwhelmingly convincing voice in his head that promised suicide was a valid solution to all the problems he was facing.
It means that our family is left trying to pick up the pieces of our lives when it feels like that is impossible to do. We shattered that day, and piecing together something that has broken into that many fragments feels impossible at times.
My brother’s death shifted our entire world, and yes, I wish it had never happened. I ache to go back in time and change things. To wrap him in my arms and hold him tight, so he can’t do what he did in those early-morning hours. To remind him how loved he is and how he is never alone, no matter how much a problem might make him feel like he is.
Never once, though, have I thought that I would like to go back in time and beat some sense into his head because he’s selfish and weak.
The very thought of that is ridiculous.
I know some people are incapable of empathizing with other people. If they haven’t lived through something, they can’t even imagine what is involved in anyone else having that happen in their lives.
But if that is the case with you, perhaps you should refrain from writing about such a sensitive and painful topic at all.
I search on Medium frequently for articles related to suicide. Connecting with other suicide survivors and people who suffer with suicidal ideation is important to me. When you lose someone who means the world to you to suicide, it feels like you’re a member of a club you never would have wanted to join. One of the only things that makes that less painful is connecting with other people who are in the same club and helping them, even if it’s only in a very small way.
When I ran across the article I read last night, where the author literally called out my brother, and every other victim of suicide, as weak, it set my skin on fire.
My path is painful enough without thoughtless, unkind statements like that.
So, please, if you want to write about a topic that is as sensitive as this one, think before you pen your words.
The pen is a mighty tool, and it can be used to heal, but it can also be used to hurt.
I would never want to hurt anyone with anything I write, and I am hoping other people feel the same.
Dying by suicide did NOT make my brother less than, weak, or selfish, and anyone who thinks so is just ignorant.
Mental illness is real. It is just as real as any other illness. And no one chooses to suffer from it.
Compassion is such an important skill. Let’s all try to use it more often.
Peace and love, y’all. 
© Melissa Gray 2023
If you are in enough pain that you are planning to end your life, please don’t. No matter how much your mind may be telling you otherwise, there is always a better way. Please stay. This pain will not last forever.
If you need someone to talk to, dial 988 and you will reach a live person. If you can’t talk, but need someone, text 741 741 and someone will be there.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: A picture of me and my brother, the only way I can possibly take one with him now. Not being able to feel his arms wrap around me is painful enough without people stabbing his memory with thoughtless words.(Author)
The post Suicide Victims Are Not Selfish or Weak appeared first on The Good Men Project.
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