đź’” Eight Years Ago, I Got the Call That Changed Everything: Suicide Loss
Eight years ago, I received the call that changed everything for me and my family.
My younger brother had died by suicide.
My immediate thoughts were; "I can't believe it. This can't be true. This type of thing doesn't happen to people like us."
I was already in Atlanta for a funeral when another loss hit—one that felt harder, deeper, and more confusing than anything I had ever experienced.
Grief like that doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t wait until you are ready. It simply enters your life and takes over.
I still remember the shock.
The guilt.
The helpless questions that seemed to play on an endless loop:
What could I have done?
Why didn’t he call me?
Was there something I should have noticed?
Was he trying to escape pain he believed he could no longer carry?
Questions like these are common after a suicide loss, but knowing that doesn’t make them easier to live with. We search for explanations because we want the loss to make sense. We replay conversations, examine memories, and wonder whether one different moment might have changed everything.
When Grief Doesn’t Bring a Family Together
My brother left behind a family in pieces.
You often hear that tragedy brings families closer together. I thought our shared grief would help us hold one another up. Instead, somehow, we broke even more.
Grief doesn’t always unite people. Sometimes it creates distance. Sometimes it brings anger, blame, resentment, or silence. Each person may grieve differently, and those differences can make connection feel impossible at the very time it is needed most.
Suicide loss can be especially isolating. There may be shame, unanswered questions, or fear about what others will say. Even within a family, people may struggle to speak openly about what happened or how deeply they are hurting.
Learning to Carry the Loss
Eight years later, it still hurts.
Not every day. Not in the same way. But some days, grief arrives like a wave out of nowhere. A memory, a date, a song, or an ordinary moment can suddenly make the loss feel close again.
I used to search for closure, as though I might someday find an answer that would neatly resolve the pain. I no longer believe grief works that way.
Now, I try to hold my brother’s memory with more love than pain.
Healing has not meant forgetting him or leaving the loss behind. It has meant learning how to carry both the love and the grief without allowing the unanswered questions to consume everything else.
To Anyone Grieving a Suicide Loss
You are not alone.
Your grief is real, even when others don’t understand it.
Your anger, guilt, confusion, sadness, and love can all exist at the same time.
The death of someone you love does not erase the love you shared. You do not have to find closure on anyone else’s timeline. You are allowed to grieve in your own way, and you deserve support while you do.
And if you are struggling with thoughts of suicide or feel that you cannot keep going, please reach out.
Call or text 988Â to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Free, confidential support is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week throughout the United States and its territories.
You are not a burden.
You are loved.
You are needed.
Your presence still matters.
When you are ready to work with a therapist, please reach out to our suicide loss specialist, Tracy Bevington.
Tracy Bevington, LMFT #53455
(310) 226-2826
$350 session fee for individuals, $400 session fee for couples/families
Sliding scale fee available
Virtual/Telehealth Only
SCHEDULE A CALL, https://calendar.app.google/z4445YJaqwxc11te6
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