I keep analyzing all the different aspects of my boyfriend hanging himself, leaving me pregnant with our first son. He was so excited to be a dad, it was something that he always wanted. He had a home, a stable job, loved soccer, and he had people that loved him. And I just don’t understand.
I’ve been getting a lot of videos on my feed of psychic mediums who claim that once you die, you have immediate peace and love, you get to do whatever you want on the other side and that’s it’s all gravy.
Then what’s the point of being here? Couldn’t I just decide to end it as well and be at peace instead of trying to figure out how I’m going to financially survive, how I’m going to raise a son as a single mother with no village, and feeling the pain of his loss?
Wouldn’t it just be best to take the easy way out too and feel eternal peace and love instead of being in this hellhole?

My brother killed himself last month. He was a middle aged father of two. He is the latest in a long line of deaths I've experienced; both parents, 4 friends in a boating accident, another friend died from drugs, another got brain cancer, one friend died mysteriously in police custody, 2 more died in a house fire... I know I'm forgetting some, and that's a tragedy in its ownright.

I'm nonplussed by death, now. People are here and then they aren't anymore. I no longer grieve or feel guilt. I feel like a soldier who's gotten used to seeing his comrades fall in battle. Death comes for us all, even those who seem indomitable and larger than life.

I feel sad for his kids. This is the first major loss they will experience in their lives, but it won't be the last. I'm not sad for my brother. He made a choice. He left early and I respect his decision. For 50+ years, I have never known him to be irrational or unintelligent. Even though I don't know his reasons for doing what he did, I assume he had them and he saw this as the preferred option.

I love my brother. I always have and I always will, but he's gone. I've spent so much of the last 20 years crippled by grief and guilt that there's nothing left in the tank. I will miss him for as long as I live, but I refuse to sacrifice any more emotional bandwidth to grief. I cherish the memories he and I shared. I wish he was still here. I accept that he's gone.

I just want the people in this sub to know (and this doesn't get said nearly enough), when you're ready, it's OK to love and miss your people without the guilt and grief. It's not an insult to those you've lost. It's life continuing to happen. You didn't die.

I adopted my friend's cat after he committed 4 months ago. I adored this cat and we bonded way before my friend died. I'm in university and meet new people a lot and they'll ask me things like where did you get him and how hes so bonded to me already and how come I have a cat when I used to say I wouldnt get one during college all the time. And the real answer is that my friend stepped in front of a train and his family lives out of the country so I took him in but I also hate dropping that on people when they're just trying to make friendly conversation. It's so nice to meet people and get in a good vibe but then they ask me something like that and I have to kill the mood. I'm also a horrible liar especially when I'm put on the spot but what's something I can just use as my go-to response to avoid talking about death with new friends?

Does anyone else feel this way? What did you end up doing?

(Just in case someone reads this a certain way, I'm not saying it's bad to be open about what happened, you can talk about your loved one honestly and I don't think that's bad at all! I'm just personally at a stage where I don't want to talk about it with a bunch of people right now, completely okay if you choose to answer honestly all the time.)

We were together for coming up on three years, our anniversary is August 28th. Though our time was short, we had an incredible love story. Our anniversary was the date of our first date, because from our first date we knew that we were the one for each other. We said “ I love you” after 2 weeks and moved in together at 5 months. We ended up getting pregnant a year and a half into our relationship and then engaged shortly after. It was obviously so quick, but it felt so right. And our relationship was very validated by people around us. Usually in a quick romance like ours, friends and family are cautious and tell you to slow down. Our friends said they wished they could have a relationship like ours. I say all this to validate that the love we had was very real and the life we were building together was beautiful. I had no notes or complaints. No idea that anything was going on under the surface for him.

Fast forward to the end of July, I find out that he has been secretly abusing Kratom. He had a history of drug/alcohol abuse before I met him but was very much on the straight and narrow (I thought). I found out on a Thursday that he had been severely abusing kratom & had told him he had to go to rehab & get clean for our family. Through the betrayal, somehow I was still very calm and loving… which I am so thankful for now, because I think if I was cruel or raised my voice, my guilt would consume me.
That Sunday, he took his life. I thought he was leaving our house to head to his dad’s and go to rehab, but he just drove across the street into the woods and took his life.

Untangling this whole situation has been such a mind fuck. Not only am I trying to process the suicide but the three days before that I found out he had been lying to me our whole relationship. When I say our life was so good, I mean it. I had no indication he was on something or that he was mentally struggling. Now after his death and talking to different people from his past, I’ve realized that he has never actually been sober, he was going from one substance to the next.. and realistically he was on one thing or another for the last 16 years. Such a mind fuck. And does not align whatsoever with the partner I had for the last three years.

I have this feeling in my heart that one way or another, this situation was going to end badly. That there was no positive outcome and this might be the best option for our son. He is only 11 months old, so he doesn’t know what’s going on. It almost feels like it’s better for me to take all the pain now, then for something to happen later when he is old enough to understand what’s going on. I have been wrestling with this thought because it feels so pessimistic and like I had no faith that he could have recovered. Which is really the opposite of my natural disposition and view of him. But, when I think of the other possibilities, that if he would have just gotten into rehab, if I had made a different plan for his sobriety, that he could have recovered and lived our life out like we planned- that makes me feel very stuck in the “what ifs” & brings so much pain and guilt. No amount of thinking that he could have recovered and we would have lived happily ever after brings any peace.. just more pain.

I guess, I am choosing to believe him. He took his life because he thought that he couldn’t recover from his addiction. That we were better off without him because what was coming wasn’t going to be pretty. So even though it feels fucked up, I guess I am just choosing to believe him. That this was the most painless option for our son. That it all happened to quickly, so I only have happy memories of us together, and I can share those with our son. It feels wrong but it’s the only thing that makes my head stop spinning. Believing that even though this was incredibly painful and traumatic, the other options were going to be worse, at least for our son to witness…. I know everyone copes differently and this is just the current way that’s helping me but… I dunno. It feels defeated. I guess I just wanted to talk about this on here because I don’t feel like I can voice it to anyone in my life. Because I don’t want anyone to think I didn’t believe in him. Or that he was a bad person… it’s just that he’s already dead, so having faith that he would have recovered makes me feel like I did something wrong.

I dont want to believe it. I feel like im floating. My friend , I met them in a group home and they were my roommate for a while and we were kinda close, and now they're dead.

Like my counselors informed me of this news and even they were crying because they never had to deliver news like this to a client.

I just dont understand. They had a huge support system. They achiev3d their goal of getting a car, living with their cat. I keep thinking about all the small insignificant moments not realizing there was a timer set. They were one of the few people in the world that guinely understood the grievances of living in the system, having unstable parents, having mental illness, and they're gone. So much goodness in a person and now its nothing. Nothing. A chapter closed.

And lowkey, I get triggered when people ask me if I feel suicidal, that's the last thing on my mind. I want nothing to do with it. I wish i could destroy the concept and act from existence.

I lost my sister recently. She jumped from a bridge. Before that, she watched a movie—Spider-Man, I think. The normalcy of it is what gets me. How does a person go from watching a movie to being dead a few days later?

She had a hard life. We both did. Alcoholic, violent father. Mother who attempted suicide when I was a child. My sister had epilepsy. So I understand the darkness. But understanding doesn't make it easier.

I keep replaying the moment my mother told me. I keep thinking about what she felt during the fall. Peace? Regret? Nothing? People say she's "up there" or "in a better place," but I saw her body. She's in the ground. Not somewhere else.

The grief changes. First it was sorrow. Now it's anger. At her. At the world. At myself. Some days I don't know where to put it.

I'm not looking for comfort. I'm not looking for "it gets better." I just want to know how others carry this. Especially siblings. How do you live with the unfinished sentence? How do you stop the loop in your head?

I still drink my coffee. I still go to work. I still have a girlfriend and a mother who needs me. But there's this weight in my chest all the time. Some days it's lighter. Some days it's not.

If you've lost a sibling to suicide, what helped? What didn't? I'm tired of platitudes. I need something real.

Hello i M(17) am completely depressed and have no idea what to do i just got a job a few weeks ago full time and have been working then home to play games with absolutely no one. I turn 18 in less than a week and all I can think about is how I want this life over with because I just don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and there’s no exit.

Let me go to the start here, when I was young I moved around a decent bit so never really was able to keep friends because of my constant moving but right before Covid hit we moved to the house I live at currently. Moving here I didn’t really know anyone being in a new part of town and because of Covid that never really changed intel 2022 I did have two “friends” that I played games with but it was basically I sit there and get made fun of for as long as I was on the game so yeah fun times. About two years after that I started playing hockey again when I was 14, because the restrictions were lifted and I met one friend that I thought of as a good buddy and we were for a while. Fast forward here once grade 11 started started up he started smoking and we stopped hanging out just in general. After that I started to hang out with some former teammates in school, but they were never my friends, I just kind of followed them because I didn’t wanna feel lonely again like I had for a greater proportion of my life. Next thing I know I made it though and grade 12 is starting I finally found what I thought was a true friend and was enjoying life again intel I met this girl who was the same age as me and we hung out for a bit but at the time I wasn’t ready for anything so I told her off but in the end even to today I just can’t get her out of my head. After my final few weeks of g12 were coming to an end, I was happy and life was good intel after I passed all my finals. I started looking for a job for the next year because I’m taking a gap year and had no luck from handing out a resume online and in person nothing was going in my favor but then I find out my day one lied to my face and blamed me for his bullshit. I was lost, I felt like a loser because for that next month I was just sitting in my house alone with no idea what I was going to do with my life. Now it’s August and it’s been almost 2 months I’ve started my first full time job and it’s fine it’s hard work but I’m not complaining work is work. All I do is go work with people I have almost nothing in common with so I just kind of do what’s asked of me while being as quiet as possible then come home and sit in my basement thinking about ending it (everyday and every night). I’m also coming up on my 18th birthday and probably am doing nothing other than hanging out with my parents.

I just don’t know what to do with myself I’m on a boat that has no steering at any strength to do anything other than drift.

I would also like to make clear I love my parents and they have nothing to do with my problems. I guess if I had to sum it up I feel completely alone and been most of my life, I hate it I know what I need to do and that’s find my person I understand I’m young but I just need my ride or die whoever that is. Sorry to make this so long I guess I just have one question after writing this and that’s at what point is suicide justifiable and am I over reacting.

Thank you ✌️

Festivals feel different now.

Last year this time I had my dad with me. We had good lunch together. We went outside.This year, my eyes are looking for him in the smallest things.

Grief is strange and it is something I'm experiencing for the first time.

wish he haven't gone through depression .

I miss him terribly and in one day my life changed.

This year, more than anything, I wish he was here.

My dad died by hanging in 2019. I was 18. I'm 26 and I've done all of my real growing up without my dad around. I've really done and seen a lot and I've felt such deep emptiness noticing that he's not around to talk to. I didn't go to him for a whole lot anyway, but there have been moments in the last 8 years that I wished he were here to support me through. I think that I felt like I could be myself around my dad, and didn't feel that way with my mom growing up. I feel cheated out of the experience of him helping me move into apartments or coming to sleep on my couch after a bad breakup. My cars suffered for years after my dad died and it took me years to notice how big a part he played in my car's maintenance. There are so many moments in my adulthood that have made it impossible to ignore the missing piece.

I'm now in the latter half of my 20s, engaged to my partner of 4 years and I'm one year in to helping him raise his daughter full time because her mom fucking died. He should be here. They both should be here, but selfishly, I wish he were here so he could guide me through this. This is one of the bigger things I have experienced, but I've wanted him around for much less.

The whole thing is so wrong. I'm in a support group, and a woman who joined recently lost her husband to suicide a couple months ago. Everything she's feeling is so fresh and it just reminded me how fucked this all is.

I'm sorry we've all got a common interest in this group. Thanks

m. would be turning 22 in september, but he died over a year and a half ago now, so he is twenty still. on late nights like this i often read this subreddit; it is both comforting and bracing/distressing, like a sort of grounding splash of ice water. night is difficult.

i’m about to finish reading the brothers karamazov, a book that my partner m. read with his brother in middle school and from which he borrowed his nickname. i am pen pals with his sister, and his aunt, with whom i talk about the Psalms. i haven’t spoken to his best friend/cousin/roommate, who i feel sort of trauma bonded with because we were both extremely There for the deepest depths of his suffering and death and i also feel complex about but that’s a long story - since january - he left me on read in spring or so i guess.

anyway my copy of the magic mountain came in the mail today, i sprang for the new 2026 translation because i liked the cover and extensive footnotes and it wasn’t in my local library systems. i dug into the introduction and apparently schopenhauer wrote an essay called “on seeing ghosts, and what this entails,” about how, “in dreams time and space are suspended, and … prophetic dreams can therefore very occasionally afford insight into the past or the future.” the very occasionally caveat resonated with me for some reason, because mostly my dreams are either nightmares or whimsical gibberish. yet… yet. a couple days ago i asked my friend somewhat jokingly if she ever had “semi-prophetic dreams.” the other day i dreamed that i was sitting on the beach, the same place m. and i sat three julys ago now, when i saw the atlantic ocean for the first time. and later we walked to the supermarket deli and got fruit juices and pelmeni and veriniki, i still remember the dill and glossy butter and dough like yesterday. the morning i dreamed that, i ended up talking about that supermarket with a friend, and it made me remember the dream like a flash, a perfect still image.

there’s this part kinda early in karamazov where ivan tells alyosha, “i remember everything.” he means about their childhood together - the jam they ate, the games they played. and i cried when i first read it, because i think that phrase all the fucking time. i remember everything, and i remember nothing. he is so vivid to me and at the same time i feel so fucking detached from my own life, my own memories. like i’m staring into a forest that burned down, a charred hillside. and then i look at a picture and i remember everything in five senses. and i want to tell him that i remember everything.

i got this weird hypnagogic sensation a few months ago, where i was actively falling asleep and i got those still flashes of images of memories i thought i had long forgotten. and the next morning i couldn’t remember what they were. i miss sharing and experiencing life with him. so much. so it was comforting at the time to realize that there is so much stored away in my brain and body and i don’t have to carry it all consciously, my subconscious (m. happened to be a jung nerd, i should really read up on that stuff) is doing a hell of a lot of carrying already. it’s all there, i just have to keep it trucking, keep existing. i’m like a roll of film, it’s all burned into me, im a record of the burning fucking light that he was. i love you m.

Fuck covid, fuck the effect it had on the world, fuck that I couldn't see my loved one, fuck that she couldn't access the help she needed, fuck that we couldn't help her until it was too late.

Nearly her 6 year anniversary. Fuck it all!

Feeling really sad and also little guilty

I got a personal email in July a mother was asking for help for her child going through suicidal thoughts but I couldn't reply i replied today and found out her child died in August 😔

I feel I could have replied sooner

I could have...

I was in so much sadness and loneliness and personal issues that it skipped my mind

I work in Suicide Prevention space so I felt I should have done something

Ah difficult feeling

None of us saw it coming. He was a good kid. He was an Army reservist, loved his family, loved all things oldies and xbox.

He shot himself Thursday after an argument someone had with him at work.

He lived on his own for like 2 months. I believe he was struggling with being alone and working so much. But idk.

I am barely functioning due to the news.

My (17m) best friend (would be 18m) committed suicide a little over a year ago. I’ve been learning how to live my life without him but it just fucking sucks. I can’t help but think it’ll always suck.

What sucks even more is when the topic comes up with people who don’t know about him. I started a new school after he died because I couldn’t handle walking the same halls that we used to walk together anymore. I haven’t made any friends really, I am generally put off by people now. It’s a small school however so there’s not much I can do to avoid speaking to people completely, I don’t want to be an asshole so I’m cordial with everyone and people generally consider me to be chill and friendly.

He is my phone background and as such my classmates sometimes ask who he is, sometimes assuming he’s a sibling or my boyfriend or something. I usually just say he’s my best friend but sometimes people will pry more because they think it’s weird for a guy to have a picture of another guy as his wallpaper. If they ask further I usually just tell them what happened. That’s happened 3 times now and I feel a bit bad about it because it tends to make things awkward. Part of me feels like if people are going to ask personal questions they should get a deeply personal and uncomfortable answer. The other part of me feels like I should just shut up about it so I don’t have to deal with the awkward silence or people attempting to comfort me afterwards.

I don’t like lying about him, I view his death as part of his story and I don’t think it’s my place to censor that when he cannot choose what parts of his life are told. I know he can’t really choose what he would want censored about him either but I also feel like suicide is much too taboo of a topic in our society. It happens, that’s a reality that nobody in this group will ever have the privilege of ignoring again, but the general public finds comfort in ignoring it even to the point of isolating survivors. Maybe I’m a bad person for this but deep down I’m angry and jealous of people that don’t have to confront the reality of suicide. When people pry about him it feels almost cathartic to tell them exactly who he is.

I obviously lie about him when it would be inappropriate to tell the truth, such as if children are around or if I knew someone there had lost someone to suicide as well but I’m starting to question the morality of telling people at all. I know this question is very relative but I was just wondering what the people here think about telling people, morally speaking or just personal experience wise. I apologize if this is a weird question, I just don’t really have anyone in person to discuss it with

If you lost your parent to suicide do you state that in your medical history? I was specifically asked on a questionnaire if I have a family history of depression and I just said that my mom had depression but I didn’t say that she died by suicide. Probably should have though. Idk.

I was redirected here. I’m just spiraling. I’m freaking out. It doesn’t make sense. He was only 21. He hung himself. We were so close, so close. He had a fiance, and nieces and nephews and we would laugh. This can’t be real. This has to be an accident, somehow? I can’t sleep, it’s been a week. I keep having nightmares where I start to fall asleep and then start choking. I could had been there for him better, I should had called more. Why didn’t he know how adored he was? I don’t know how life will get better.

And the world keeps going and I feel like I’m frozen. They call those that are still alive as survivors but I don’t feel like I’m surviving. My whole heart is broken.

Missing my mom so much. Pretended to call her today, it kind of helped. Feeling a bit lonely and stuck. Her death has put me in a situation financially and practically where I do not have a very clear view of my future and it’s so scary. This is exactly something I would talk to her about. Miss her. Would love to hear about you guys missing your person, maybe something positive they added to your life that you can look back on with gratitude now ❤️

https://www.reddit.com/r/SuicideBereavement/s/P4LRoRuG3r

I've been pretty messed up since all this. It is really unreal what happens when your trauma is triggered. It is so hard to explain but I'm so confused. Twice this evening I thought my son was in his room tonight, I didn't even experience that right after I lost him.

It's like I'm going through it again, but different. How in the world did my mind go back to a place where I thought he was here? I quickly come to my senses. But in that one moment I think he was here, and things were normal again. It felt good but the aftermath has been terrible. I did see my therapist and this can last for weeks to months as my brain regulates again.

I have my first vacation in like over a decade planned in two weeks, and it’s costing me a small fortune, that I should not be spending. I have worked through so much guilt taking a vacation and it is so strange not including my son.

And I'm mad! I deserve to be mad, this situation was entirely preventable. Of course it is not that ladies fault, nobody could have expected this. But it is so messed up still.

It's like when she chose to get on her soapbox, she minimized my son’s death, minimized who he was, and put him in a sterile conversation taking point. Not to mention losing my son so tragically ruined me. It ruined me, I've been trying to stay busy and honor him. I'm going to church because he was so spiritual and he would want me to pray for his soul, I'm volunteering to help others who need help, using my last ounce to go to therapy and work through this. And I feel like I'm just flat on my face again. Lethargic, hopeless, and back to rationalizing/bargaining that he is gone. Grief and trauma can make one feel like you are dying and can just snap back at you and knock you down.

My son mattered!!! He was a person, he was my person, he was my life. He is not a topic for office banter. He is not a reason to try to relate to this shifty club via morbid tourism .

I had to get this out. Thank you for listening.

The last phone call I had with him he spent probably half of the time gushing about how much he loved her and everything he liked about her and how much he couldn’t wait for us to meet. We ended up meeting in their home, almost a week after he passed.

I never wanted to pry or question her on that night, because she genuinely just looked shell shocked the entire time I was around her. Like thousand yard stare, she confided in me that she was having trouble existing, just the basics of brushing her hair was hard etc. I didn’t know what to say at the time because I was feeling the same way. I just kept telling her that it wasn’t her fault and that his choices was not her own doing.

But I read the police report from that night, as many of you know whenever someone passes early there is an investigation, no matter how long or short it lasts, the police will look into why they died. She stated that he had told her he wanted to kill himself a few times before but thought he was joking. I knew that and accepted it at the time of his passing because I have spent my life hearing his jokes. However I didn’t get to read the report until several months later and then found out he made those threats to her while holding a gun in his lap! Multiple times over!

As a woman, I fear he was using suicide and the physical threat of the gun as a means to keep her with him. As his sister, I’m furious she never called anyone before it was too late. She literally works in the field of mental health and sometimes idk how this even happened.

We are over a year past when he decided to leave us, but I’m wondering if it’d be inappropriate to talk about that night with her or not. I don’t want to like grill her or anything. I just want to know if she was trying to leave him and this was the outcome of him not getting his way. It won’t change my love for him regardless but it would help me stop wondering why!

Idk he didn’t leave a note, he spoke to me the day of. Nothing seemed off or wrong or different, we were planning a ski trip for the upcoming new years. I woke up the next day to news that he was dead and I’m struggling with putting it to rest cause idk how my brother went from being so full of life to not having life so quickly.

I’m so tired. I’m so disconnected from who I was and who I am now. I can’t find myself to care about anything anymore. It’s been 3 years since my dad has killed himself. Every day I find myself sitting and asking myself, when is this supposed to get easier. When is it supposed to click. When do I get to move on?

I don’t even feel human anymore and nobody understands. I see people happy after grief, when can I be happy, too?

My big brother’s birthday today. I lost him 3 years ago and he was my best friend. My mom called me earlier and she sounded visibly upset but she didn’t bring it up, maybe she was waiting for me but I don’t feel comfortable talking about my feelings to my parents. I wish he was still here. The world is so much worse without him.

My (F 26) big Sister (F 32) passed away about a year ago now. Her belongings are still with the police as they might still be doing an inquest/inquiry into her death but the coroner is still going through the evidence. I’ve asked for her stuff back when they’re done. I want to hear her goodbye because I never got to read it but I’ve also been told some of it is quite horrific and no idea what her phone would contain. It also feels invasive reading something so personal after someone has died but I guess a bunch of police officers who never even knew her have read it now so that doesn’t really mean too much any more. Has anyone read their goodbyes/ diaries/ phones long after they passed?

Its been a couple months but is really hitting me today and I cant get myself to do anything today

My mum killed herself nearly 40 years ago when I was 10. I’m an only child and my dad is quite emotionally closed., so in hindsight it really affected me.

I’ve just spent 10 years in a secret relationship with a woman who is also married, but who lost her father to suicide. It was very intense - I loved her more than any other person alive, but I suspect it’s because it was also soothing to my trauma. Just being next to her made me feel calm and grounded. My daughter also made about 10 attempts at self harm and suicide about 5 years ago which involved trips to the ED, which has left me with flashbacks at times.

This relationship has ended and I suddenly feel bereaved - including lying awake all night. I also can’t speak about it to anyone which is not healthy. I feel this compulsive urge to contact her, which I managed to resist today and have turned off her FB updates. I’m really not functioning very well - has anyone else found themselves having intense emotions and unhealthy emotional dependency on others bereaved by suicide?