Suicide is Not Hopeless: Personal Stories

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My Little Brother

My little brother was always strange, never really fit into a crowd. He could talk to people just fine, but more or less just kept to himself. Last year, I came home from school just like it was a normal day, but when I got there my mom and her SUV were on and waiting for me to get home. Mom was sitting in the car and crying. At the time, I had no idea why. My brother was also sitting in the car, and he had a look on his face that I had never seen before. She told me to get in the car and start driving, telling me where to make turns. We left the side of town that I had normally been around, and after about half an hour we got to our destination: a mental hospital. I was very confused when we got there, and after they admitted my brother I was told the full story. 

Earlier that day my brother had written a suicide note and had stolen a bottle of mom’s pills. If he grabbed a bottle that she didn’t use constantly she would of never found out in time.  Once he actually went into the hospital we had to sit and wait, waiting for someone to come talk to us, tell us how long he would be there, and if they thought he was gonna be okay. Mom cried the entire time, and I sat there for almost three hours of silence before I decided that I needed to go home. I called my dad, who was told about what happened before me and was at home waiting for a call, and told him that I needed to leave and go home. Before I left the hospital I hadn’t cried about what happened yet, but as soon as I got into the car to leave I broke down, crying the entire trip home.

I just had so many questions. Why was I caught off guard? When I looked at the warning signs my brother showed so many, but I paid no mind to them because I just assumed he was antisocial. When did he start wanting to die? How could he? That was the worst part, I think. I didn’t know it was coming and I had no clue what to do. 

It’s been over a year since then, and since then my little brother was put on medication and came home, diagnosed with some form of depression. If I have learned anything from what happened last January, it is to not ignore any of the signs. You have to be aware that some of the people that seem the happiest really are just hiding the pain and want help, but don’t know how to ask. Don’t ignore the signs.

My Best Friend

Suicide has been in my life, from stories on the news or stories from my friends. However, all their stories blended together in a blob that seemed to tell the same tale. That was until I met Max.

Max was a close friend who trusted me enough to tell me his story. He was molested by family members, which led to a series of depressive episodes that weren’t helped by his father, who was in the army and was required to move every three years. He had spent some time in a hospital after attacking himself, and spent over two months there. Despite, what help he did received he still had night terrors that plagued him.

I felt so helpless after he moved away, the distance between us prevented me from reaching out to help him. It was destroying me. Despite sending countless of messages telling him he wasn’t alone, it never seemed to help. It damaged me, I threw myself into all his problems head first, even if it risked me ignoring my social life. I stepped back and had to look at myself and saw that I was a shell of a person, filled with his problems. I had to take a break from him, and in that break we learned a lot about ourselves. He learned what his problems meant, and I learned what I meant to myself.

Max still needs help to recover from the years of trauma, but we are both aware that these problems cannot become us. I learned that we cannot forget ourselves in the problems of other people. Suicide has affected me in a large way, it’s such a melancholy and avoided subject but it can teach you a lot about yourself and where you stand as a person.


It all started when I moved from Whiteland to Indianapolis.  I lost all my friends that I went to school with from grades four to seven. I had so many friends. I moved here and I knew no one. I didn’t want to do anything. We moved here in July of 2014. I didn’t want to make new friends, and I was scared because I’ve always been a bigger girl than other people. I thought that since I was overweight I would get made fun of. I talked to my mom about home-school online, because that way I wouldn’t have to face other people. In August of 2014 I started school online, and I was alone from 7 A.M. to 5 P.M. every day, sometimes even working alone until midnight. I was lonely and sad, and began to cut and eat more because I was bored. 

In October it got even worse. I had gained 20-25 pounds in 2 months. I began to become depressed. I felt unwanted, nasty and ugly. I began to harm myself and  cry for hours on end. One night, I was alone and I thought that maybe I should just kill myself. I went into my bathroom, and tried to find all the pills I could. I started crying and trying to take all of them. I sat there and talked to myself about how my family would feel and how they’d hate me. 

After all the stuff I’ve been through I’ve made it. You can make it too. We all have weak moments and think life isn’t worth living. But it is. Life gets hard ,yes, but it will change. Don’t let others bring you down. Love yourself, your flaws and everything about yourself. Life gets better. Nowadays I am happy that I didn’t end my life.