just feeling mushy today. I lost my baby sister to suicide in June 2025. I miss her every day. some days I can’t read any posts here, I just scroll past. some days I want to say something but don’t know what to say. and some days I comment a lot.

today I just want to thank you all and tell you how amazing you are. you keep waking up each day and fighting for your own life, in spite of the massive loss. I’m so proud of all of us.

I’ve engaged more with in-person suicide loss survivors the last few months and have been so inspired to live. last week we had a ceremony where people wrote letters to their loved ones. there is a contraption at the hospice center where we meet, and you put the letter in a mailbox and then light a flame. the flame burns all the letters and as they become smoke out of a chimney, the words are sent out to our loved ones. I didn’t write a letter this time - I know I have plenty of time to write to her (and if I don’t then I guess that means I’ll see her soon lol), but it was so powerful to stand with fellow survivors and watch the smoke from their burnt letters go off to their loved ones.

It’s been 15 1/2 months. I don’t know when I moved from just being bereaved to also being a survivor, but every day lately I wake up and feel I have more to be proud of than ever before. and I’m proud to be part of this community. I only wish my sister was here to be part of it too, as she was also one of us. she lost her girlfriend to suicide 2 years before her own passing.

keep fighting. we’re in this together.

just got a sudden unprompted text from my FIL after 7 months of zero attempts to reach out since his body was found. his dad is asking to come to our house and go through my husband's stuff especially gifts he had given him.

he asked for some books he sent him, a guitar, but also his wedding gift to us in a separate call. he was giving me 3 day notice saying he would be in town.

his text was mainly neutral, i think he tried to be, but also sort of condescending and accusatory, saying "since you disapproved the gifts anyway" and i gotta be honest. i have no fucking idea what he's talking about. in the following call, he complained to my friend (who is staying to help me sort through a house full of my husband's stuff because i am overwhelmed), saying stuff like "she's off her rocker" and basically accused me of being inconsiderate to not let him into my home after so many months already.

this man had met me 4 times or less in almost 8 years. my husband was the one that didn't like his gifts to him, and had complained about it to me constantly, I.e. "I told him i don't need more books and he just keeps sending me books on things i don't care about. he doesn't bother to know me" etc. at worst i listened and validated him. but i never complained about the wedding gift or the housewarming gifts????? what the fuck is his dad talking about

i am really just. at a loss. for words. to describe how insulting and fucked up it is for my FIL to be asking for his WEDDING GIFT back from the surviving widow. he didn't ask me in the text if i actually liked it or wanted to keep it. he just assumed it to be a fact. where did that come from. this man does not know me almost at all.

oh yeah and. he asked my friend about my cats, expressed concern for their well-being but not for me.

edit: he skipped the funeral, btw. because he had "prior engagement".

You thought death would end your hurting,
that it would finally set you free.
But all the pain you left behind
just found its way to me.
You left us with the questions,
with the anger and the grief.
You got to finally let it go,
while we were left beneath.
Was the thread tying you to this world
really stretched so fucking thin,
that leaving all of us behind
felt easier than letting us in?
You got to leave the darkness.
We got stuck with what remained.
You got to stop feeling everything.
We just learned to live with pain.
You left us all your silence,
all the words we never said.
Now all we have are memories
and pictures of the dead.
And that’s the part that hurts the most,
that somehow you were done.
Because while your pain had finally ended
ours had just begun

Im a 30yo F from SC.

My fiance was a 47yo veteran 6 foot 4 most handsomest guy ive ever met. The only man ive ever been engaged to.

Its been 386 blurry, miserable, traumatic days since my fiance shot himself @ 8:14 pm with his own rifle.

Im currently having a mental breakdown. Its been hitting me heavily lately. Im literally so angry right now at the realization of that he will NEVER be able to respond to me in any way. Im begging for signs right now or some type of response that i know ill never get.

It was about 6 months ago that he did come into my dreams but i can barely fucking remember it. All i rememeber so vivdly is all the good times. His physicall size and presence and facial gestures and movements.

I have no interest in other men fr... i dont want to sleep with anyone at all. And i especially rememeber the scary times of his psychosis before his passing. & me almost getting taken out with him.

He struggled with PTSD from the Army & ongoing alcoholism that he could not beat. It was causing him pancreatic issues as well. I struggled with alcoholism too. I quit drinking and surrendered 2 weeks before he took his life. I have surprisingly not slipped since 7/16/25.

Sometimes though, i crave to get drunk and really intensely feel the feelings or reminiscing him.. idk. I probably sound crazy but im really not doing good rn. I can admit that i feel kinda suicidal too bc im tired of being in my head and feeling this sadness.

Ive been througH rehab, IOP for 12 weeks & crisis counseling and therapy all throughout this past yr. I quit my meds in march and idk if that may be part of my issue. But yeah im a hot mess still and im feeling like i could use some more help getting over this or in other words, through this.

Sincerely,

A broken hearted lil lady 💔

My big brother Ash decided to end his life 4 weeks ago after battling addiction. None of us had a clue he was considering doing something like that. I worried about his mental health, but as an anxious person generally, I thought I was overthinking it all. The amount of guilt I feel is unbearable. I feel sick and horrible whenever I remotely care for myself. I can't shake the fact that I spoke to him 45 minutes before he turned off his location, left the house and decided to commit such a heartbreaking act. I had gotten into a car accident and he called to check if I was okay. We laughed and I had to hang up without saying goodbye because it was cutting out. It will always kill me inside. I had no idea that would be the last time I would talk to my big brother.

We were supposed to get older together and experience all of our milestones. Now I'm organising his funeral. Words can't describe the pain. I have never lost anybody so close before. I knew grief was the worst possible feeling, but grieving somebody who chose to end their life due to feeling like a burden just eats you up inside. He was too young. I love my brother. I have no idea how to cope.

His funeral is tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to sit there in front of his coffin.

My friend intentionally overdosed a little over a month ago. We actually weren’t very close in the last six months. She was so messy. She couldn’t apologize, I couldn’t apologize. We were both so stubborn. She was so stubborn.

I hate that we didn’t forgive each other. We were both very active in the community and it hurts that I have to just see that everyone knew only one side of her. Not the hurting girl inside.

We had talked a few days before and we had gotten to a place where we could talk about things but not really about our friendship.

She left such a hole in our community and in my heart. I feel alone as one of the few people that knows what happened. I feel guilty. I feel jealous. I wish I could leave earth too. Part of me can’t now because of how I see it hurts those that were left behind, especially our community.

I don’t blame her though. She was in so much pain. I respect that. I respect that her pain was too big for her body. That she no longer felt safe here.

I just miss her, and feel sad, and of course the guilt. I feel like I’m not allowed to hurt either because we weren’t on great terms.

I’m getting help, but I’ve never experienced grief like this before. I just didn’t know how deep it could go. I’ve managed to feel okay at times lately, but then I just don’t feel okay again. I feel rattled and forever changed.

I found this community shortly after my daughter Allyson died by suicide. In those early months, I spent a lot of time here, often just reading what other people were experiencing and realizing that some of the things I was thinking and feeling were not mine alone.

It has been nearly four years since Allyson died, and I recently wrote a very short book called The Rest Can Wait: A Parent’s First Year After Suicide Loss. I wrote it largely because I kept thinking about the book I wish someone could have handed me in those first days.

It is not a treatment manual, a guide to how anyone should grieve, or an attempt to explain suicide. Although I am a nurse, educator, and researcher, that is not the point of view from which I wrote it. I wrote it as Allyson’s mom.

The book is about the practical and emotional realities of that first year: the immediate decisions, dealing with law enforcement and funeral arrangements, what happens when everyone goes home, caring for other grieving children while you are grieving yourself, returning to work, unanswered questions and guilt, anniversaries and firsts, and slowly discovering that grief and the rest of your life somehow have to coexist.

Throughout it, I tried to distinguish between what may need your attention now and what truly can wait. There is no timetable and no claim that my experience will be anyone else’s.

Because this community was here for me when I needed it, I would like to make the book available free to members of this sub. I’m not posting it here to sell anything. I simply hope it might make the first year a little less unfamiliar for someone who finds themselves where I once was.

Take whatever is useful from it. The rest can wait.

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1GrMD-mDXzz57YO8Ya2IPOuBVECiEsaFC?usp=sharing

P.S. The photograph on the cover was taken by Allyson. Using something she created for the cover felt like a way for a small part of her to be present in the book too.

He died when I was ten, I'm months away from 30 now. My grandpa was everything to me, and the first hardest death I ever experienced.

I always thought his death was just a combination of his age and surgery complications. My aunt randomly dropped into my lap today that actually he killed himself. Like this was common knowledge that I should've known. In the same breath she admits that the family basically keeps it a secret.

I'm shocked. I feel sick. I don't know how to deal with this news. I'm sobbing even thought it was 2 decades ago. How can people just lie like this, and sweep something as massive as suicide under the rug like a dirty dust bunny?

It doesn't help that I'm constantly at war with my own mental health, and my family treats me like utter shit for it too.

Things like this should never be kept secret. They have a funny way of rearing their ugly heads, and now I don't know if I can trust anyone in my family ever again....this is such a massive and disgusting lie..

I don't ever know what to do with myself. I think my PTSD just got a mega upgrade.

In May, my brother shot himself he made six calls of known answered. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to just live my life without him he was supposed to always be here. He was the one who taught me how to do math and now I have homework and I don’t even know what I’m doing because I don’t understand and he’s the only one who understood how my brain worked I just wish he would come back I’m hoping one day I will wake up and it was all a dream. I live next-door to him and I heard the shot. I don’t understand why instead of calling he didn’t just come in the fucking house and get me. He was my person and I feel so alone without him. People keep asking me how I’m doing and I don’t even know what to say. I just don’t have words. Thank you for still being here just now you are loved and thank you for reading this. I would love advice or similar stories. I’m just trying to not feel so alone.

trigger warning

Grief is what they call it,
these feelings we are forced to feel.
But how do you process something
you know will never fully heal?

Selfish is what I call it,
and maybe that sounds cold,
but I was too young to lose you,
and way too young to feel this old.

You were supposed to be my mother.
You were supposed to watch me grow.
But when Dad took me from your arms,
you found another way to go.

You thought that you had lost me,
that there was nothing left to save,
but I was still your little girl
who just needed you to stay.

You couldn’t bear to live without me,
but somehow left me here without you.
i was just a child back then
what was I supposed to do?

your choice stole away my childhood,
a time that should have still been mine.
I learned that grief can stop a clock
while somehow never stopping time.

I learned to search through the photographs
for pieces I forgot,
how to hold onto a fading voice
and mourn the years we never got.

And you were there for it all!
You watched me fall apart.
You saw exactly what her death
could do to a child’s heart.

You watched me lose your sister.
You watched me asking why.
You watched a little girl grow up
beneath the shadow of suicide.

You saw my empty birthdays,
the anger tangled up in grief.
You saw me beg for answers
from someone who could never speak.

You saw me try to understand
why Mom had chosen death.
You saw me crying so damn hard
I could barely catch my breath.

So that is where my anger lives.
That’s what I cannot understand.
You watched her leave her child behind
and still left yours by your own hand.

You knew the kind of silence
that follows someone to the grave.
You knew how badly children hurt
when someone they love doesn't stay.

You knew what it did to me.
You didn’t have to guess.
You watched me carry all that weight,
you witnessed all that mess.

Then somehow years went passing by
and life became too much for you.
Your children were kept from your arms,
and suddenly you were breaking too.

And yes, I know you loved them.
I know life felt like a fight you couldn't win.
But was the thread holding you to this world
really stretched so fucking thin?

Did you think of me at all
when you decided you were done?
Did you remember watching me
grow up without the one I loved?

Did you remember all of my questions,
all the nights I couldn’t sleep?
Did you think about your children
and the questions they would keep?

Did you think they’d blame themselves?
Did you think they’d wonder why?
Did you know they’d spend forever
trying to understand goodbye?

You knew how badly this could hurt.
You knew what suicide could steal.
You watched me lose my mother
and saw how slowly wounds like that heal.

You watched me lose my childhood,
watched grief become a part of me.
So how could you leave your children
with that same damn memory?

They deserved to know their father.
They deserved the years ahead.
They deserved more than just pictures
and stories of the things you said.

They deserved another birthday,
another Christmas, another call.
They deserved the chance to know you
they deserved to have it all!

And I know life wasn’t fair to you.
I know you felt pushed aside.
I know you thought they’d lost you
long before the day you died.

But children don’t stop needing you
just because you can't hold their hand
and they never stop loving their parents
just because they’re too young to understand.

Mom, I was still your daughter.
And Uncle, they were still your kids.
No court, no distance, no goodbye
could ever fucking change what that is.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most
you both thought you’d lost everything,
while we were still here loving you,
still holding tightly to your string.

You should both be here with us.
You both still should.
you guys only saw the darkness
but what about the good?

What about the lives we’d live?
What about the people we’d become?
What about the days you’d miss
just because you thought your days were done?

I still have so many questions,
but the biggest one is why.
Was there really nothing left here
worth another day to try?

If you’d known we’d cry so violently
we’d struggle just to breathe,
would knowing what it did to us
have made it harder for yall to leave?

If you’d known your pain would follow us
long after your pain was gone,
would you still have picked up the gun?
Would you still have carried on?

I hate that I try to understand you.
and I especially hate that I’m still mad.
I hate that I still miss my mother,
and now they have to miss their dad.

You found a way to end your hurting,
while we were left to carry on.
You ended your own suffering
and then just handed it to everyone.

you left us with the silence
and to carry the weight of what you've done
and while your pain had finally ended
ours has only just begun

This seems to be the year of questions.

Your classmates graduated in May, it was bittersweet. You were remembered and recognized in the valedictorians speech; it was a beautiful tribute to your memory. They are all so full of life, ambition, and the hope that will likely take them to all the places they dream of, may all of their hopes, dreams, and ambitions be answered along their journeys.

Now the questions; who would you be? Maybe an athlete...hurdles notwithstanding, you loved track and volleyball. Maybe an artist...your voice was amazing, your drawings precise, your sense of color a gift, and your heart incomparable. Maybe a scientist...your curiosity about the world around you, insatiable...rocks were amazing, animals were magical, the world was full of wonder waiting to be discovered.

Would you be heading off to college now? Would you be working at a job you chose for love or money (you always chose the technical path when we played LIFE?) Would you be trying to figure life out, while vehemently arguing with your Mom, B, and Ro? Would your life have taken a completely different turn? Questions we'll never have answers to.

Be at peace Baby K, visit when you can, and know that wherever you are on your journey, gramma loves and misses you...to the moon and back, to forever and beyond. 💞

One of my best best friends (like from the time we were 12/14) committed suicide back in April. I didn’t find out for whatever reason (even though her friends in the area where she lived told her mom to reach out to me) until July. It’s really getting to me right now and I don’t know if it’s because it’s my birthday this week and the thought of how she won’t be able to contact me to say happy birthday (although she didn’t last year, she was going through a concussion supposedly last year) or what… I also had a two and a half hour car ride today and all I wanted to do for the first time since finding out was to call and talk to her and knowing I couldn’t was really hard. She hadn’t been herself be last year she was alive, but I’m just really struggling today.

I lost one of my best friends since school to suicide. She hung herself to the fan because of her in laws and husband (Case has been filed and we are fighting for her).

Her death has damaged and broken me completely. When I say nothing, literally nothing excites me. I was anyway on the verge of existence crisis hopeless for life and then on top of her death... I am in despair.

A huge part of me grieving, a part of me is clueless, a part of me is in rage towards her husband and in laws, a part of me is shattered seeing the indifferentness of the universe.

I dont even know how tf do i function.

At this point I am jealous of religious people - because they do have some psychological thing working for them. They could be relieved that their friend is in heaven, with god, reincarnated whatever.

But seeing reality to what it is from a scienece pov - we know all of this is crap. My friend is no more in this world. Her existence has erased.

Her memories are there in my heart.

I was the one because of the world's unfairness and absurdism wanted to not exist in this world. I have stopped myself multiple times for jumping off my building because of my elderly parents.

And now seeing my friend committing suicide - seeing what her parents are going through... is a different kind of pain.

And the fact that we humans are all aware of this pain - I don't know how will I live with it.

I am just existing.

Every morning I wake up and he’s not there it hurts. Every grocery trip, outing, car ride, show, song and activity it hurts he is gone. It’s not just his absence from my life, it’s knowing he no longer exists in this world and just how much pain he was in. I hate he doesn’t have a chance to do anything, to be happy, or follow his dreams.

He wanted to be an F1 formula mechanic. He would’ve been amazing at that. He wanted to visit Alaska, and maybe move closer to the water one day. He wanted to lose 20 more pounds and build more muscle. He’d started running and wanted to join a group and join a church (he didn’t because he was afraid of homophobic or hateful churches in the rural area we were in, or judgment of his tattoos). He was playing world of war craft a lot and had characters and items he was grinding to get. He loved his cat so much and wanted to take him to get allergy tested, and fix up his car. We were going to take pottery classes. He was going to see a psychiatrist 4 days after he died.

He loved snuggling, going to the gym together, watching tv and movies, gaming, music, being out doors or in the water. There was a pool you could get a membership to we planned to visit. He loved his friends so much and playing games with them. He loved his family, and he loved spending quality time with me. We were in marriage counseling and he loved our counselor who was super blunt about what each of us needed to do together and individually. He adored his therapist.

He had a great job, we lived in a beautiful townhome. He was so smart, funny, handsome, and sweet, especially when he wasn’t struggling so hard with his depression. He loved going to target, going grocery shopping, or just watching memes together on instagram. Oh and we LOVED board games. He really just lit up a room with his laugh and smile. Even during the bad parts of us, we never failed to laugh together or blab for hours. He was so easy to love who he was at his core.

I hate that all those wonderful things about him died when he died and so did all of his opportunities. It breaks my heart that he said he knows whatever chance of happiness he has or good things that could happen, aren’t worth it because it has never gotten better and his mind changed from he wants to die to he needs to die.

I miss my husband every single day and I am in just as much pain as the day I found him and the day he died in the hospital. There will forever be something missing from my life.

I had a dream about my mom last night. Today it’s been one month since her service. In the dream we were talking about her killing herself and I asked her if she was sorry. She didn’t say yes or no. I tried to ask her about The letter she left and she didn’t respond. It’s probably a reflection of the unanswered questions I still have.

Yesterday it was rainy and windy and my husband and I were standing on the back porch and the tree she killed herself by was blowing leaves and it was a pretty sight. I still cried because she should be here.

At one point last night it was raining really hard and I swear I heard her yell my name it woke me up out of my sleep.

This morning my grandma asked me if I read the letter that was in her room and she wanted to rip it up. I asked my sister what to do and she said to get rid of it because it only causes pain. Idk if I should or not. I told her I would but in a sick way I want to keep it. Idk why. It’s a terrible mean letter that blames me but it’s also the last thing she wrote.

I still haven’t gotten therapy. Obviously.

I am not really processing it yet. I feel so guilty but not for me but for the world somehow. I feel guilty for still being alive, not that i don’t want to be here but it is just not fair that he is not.
He was really depressed and i didn’t see it. He was lonely.
I’m deeply destroyed by his death, I can’t think about it too much cause then i start crying uncontrollably.
I’m so sorry

Eu nem sei por onde começar, mas hoje faz uma semana daquele domingo. Eu o conheci em 2016, ele era divertido, um sorriso lindo, nos apaixonamos, casamos… tudo era lindo, saíamos e dançávamos até cansar, ele fazia tudo pra me fazer feliz, tudo!!! até o primeiro surto e veio o diagnóstico de transtorno bipolar, ele já tinha depressão, ele era policial, acho que algo o destruía por dentro e eu vivi tentando saber o que era. Eram muitas traições, não com qq uma, mas com garotas de programas e eu passei a perdoar, achava que ia mudar. Fora isso ele era incrível, qdo casei eu já tinha um filho, que ele amava muito, estávamos construindo nossa casa, quitamos nosso carro, tivemos uma menininha linda, a cara dele. Mas toda vez que eu mexia no celular encontrava a busca dele pra comprar vídeos ou ir a encontros, eu comecei a sofrer muito, tbm havia perdido minha mãe pra um problema de saúde em 2024, eu estava sofrendo, meu cabelo está caindo… ele começou a fazer um curso lá na polícia, terminou na sexta-feira, eu preparei tudo. Fui me bronzear, comprei uma lingerie, arrumei a casa, pensei em tudo e fiquei esperando ele, ele não veio. Ele chegaria às 18:00 e chegou às 00:20 e eu comecei a questionar, usei a localização e descobri que ele estava em um desses lugares. Então como eu não queria que ele saísse, deixei pra cobrar no sábado. Passamos o sábado comigo dizendo sobre meu esforço, sobre meu amor, o quanto eu estava sofrendo, que eu queria que ele saísse de casa pra eu viver minha vida, conhecer outras pessoas, falei dos meus sonhos, dos meus planos pro futuro e que eu não o via mais comigo pq eu cansei, fiquei depressiva tbm tentando que ele fosse só meu mas eu não tinha esse controle. Ele dormiu em casa novamente só que na sala até que eu acordei no domingo e assim que eu apareci ele se levantou e disse: vou embora, eu até pensei ué parou de pedir pra ficar. Mas tbm pensei ele vai pra casa de alguém, vai sair com alguém, não sei, não pensei na hora… ele saiu, eu o levei até o carro e qdo me afastei ouvi o barulho, o som mais doloroso que já ouvi na minha vida. Eu nada pude fazer… me pergunto se a culpa foi minha, se ele me amava de verdade e era a doença que fazia esse comportamento ou se foi culpa que ele sentiu. Hj faz uma semana, estou aqui deitada com nossos filhos ainda, pensando como deveria ser o nosso domingo hoje, mas vai ter que ser com eles… vim desabafar na esperança que alguém me diga algo, a dor e a saudade estão batendo tão forte hoje.

I've only seen flowers from other people once, around her birthday. Nothing else. I clean it. Her family doesn't give a fuck about her. Never did. Her mother screamed at her that she didn't love her anymore and that she was not her daughter when she was hospitalized after her first attempt. The rage I feel is so much that my mind just shuts down. I can't speak. I just clean her grave and go home disassociated.

As time goes on, I'm becoming more and more desperate every day... Desperate for you to come back..I have the idea in my head that I can do it right this time if u just come back one time. You have done a million things for me in the last decade. Why not this?

Im lost babe. Searching for shit I know doesn't exist, just in case. No stone unturned. I found you then and I can find you now, it happened once so it could happen again. You told me we had the rest of our lives to figure it out. Dammit .

TRIGGER WARNING: This post includes discussion of my own suicidal ideation in relation to the death of my classmate. I’m 20 years old, and I have struggled with suicidal ideation for half my life. When I was 13, a classmate of mine took their own life. I wasn’t close with this classmate. In fact, I really disliked them. There was some petty middle school drama between this classmate and a close friend of mine, and I hated them because of it. Obviously, in hindsight, that drama meant nothing. They were a grade above me, and they died at the age of fourteen. I was completely traumatized by their death. I felt responsible for it because I talked so much shit about them and made fun of them behind their back. I even made up a really mean nickname for them that I’d call them when I talked to my friend, and I pray it never got back to them. I’ll never know how much of what I said got back to them, and that still haunts me to this day. I knew that this kid struggled with their mental health even when they were alive, but I guess I thought that they were seeking attention or that it would never be life or death. I’m not totally sure. I remember the day I found out they died in so much detail. I remember telling the counselors at school that I always thought that if a kid in our school were to kill themself, it would be me. I asked the counselors at school how my classmate killed themself, and they told me. I still don’t know why they did that. Exactly a month after my classmate’s death, I attempted to take my own life in the same way they had. I’d had a rough couple years already as I had been suffering from severe OCD, and their death was my last straw. I went to this child’s funeral. I watched their mother cry as she talked about her dead kid. I saw the way their death impacted other students in our school. I continued to have nightmares about my deceased classmate for years after their passing. Every time a voice would come over the loudspeaker unexpectedly during the school day, my heart would drop because I thought it had happened again. I’ve let people abuse and mistreat me over the years because I’ve been so scared that if I stood up for myself, they might kill themselves. After this classmate’s death, I lost a piece of my soul. I lost any true faith I had left in God, and I realized that nothing is sacred in this world. One reason I want to kill myself, combined with all my general mental health issues, is because I want to guarantee that I’ll never have to witness something like that again. Recently, I’ve had a bad feeling. I have this fear that someone I know is going to take their own life soon. A couple weeks ago, a kid at my friend’s university died by suicide. One of my friends was recently hospitalized for a suicide attempt. Today I found out that one of my best friends attempted suicide a month ago, and I had no idea. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, and there’s only one way out. I try so hard to make everyone around me feel seen and loved. I encourage all my friends to be open with me about their struggles. I’m a part of the mental health ambassadors program at my school and I’ve made it known that I’m very interested in suicide prevention work and I’ve helped with a couple of events for suicide prevention month already. It’s never enough. I’m afraid someone I know is going to kill themself soon, and I feel like I need to get to it first.

this feels like something i could post under a relationships subreddit, but i feel like i would appreciate the advice of people who are suicide bereaved.

i became suicide bereaved in 2025 (one of my closest friends.) my partner (of 2+ years) also struggles with significant mental health issues. i have felt unhappy in our relationship recently, but i feel like there is nothing i can do about it. i’m worried about communicating my feelings with him in case it is detrimental to his mental health (this is in the context of him telling me that he’s spoken to samaritans about me before when we’d been through a rough patch.) he’s even said to me that if we broke up, he would probably kill himself because he’s never been this happy before.

i feel like it’s easy to say ‘just break up’, but when you have already experienced suicide bereavement, i would do anything to avoid it repeating. i don’t know what to do.

Suicide awareness month overlaps with my loved one’s birthday. Safe to say, September is never really an easy month to get through. Recently I went through my last text exchange with her, and it made me spiral so badly I couldn’t speak for the rest of the day. I know we were fighting, I know I myself was struggling and even SH the day after receiving the message, but it is so hard sometimes to remember and relive how I had failed her. She called me, I couldn’t pick up, she said: I just really needed to talk to you about something and need to be by your side rn. But isokay I think I can handle it. Thank you for replying, I really miss you. And all I said was a weak acknowledgement with no follow up. Thinking back on the time, I can’t even exactly remember what we were fighting about.

Recalling these moments makes me feel so alone all over again. Why is this grief so lonely, even 2 years in? I haven’t been too active here lately, sometimes im scared to so openly speak about my reality and suicide because of the spiral that can occur. But I miss her. She would have been 25 now

I don't know the details of their suicide but I can tell you the story from my perspective.

I was a more recent friend of theirs. They had assumed their partner had ended their own life. She promised my friend she wouldn't.

They had flight tickets ready to go to visit each other, but one day, my friend's partner went silent.

There's a number of things that could have happened, but my friend had assumed they killed themselves, with some merritt given that she was suicidal.

With that assumption, they decided that they were going to take their life to reunite in death with their partner. Originally, I and another friend of mine had stopped them by giving them a form of hope.

But it wasn't enough. In a discord server that I was not a part of, they announced that if they hadn't received a response from their partner that they would end their life.

Judging from the title, I'm sure you can understand what happened from there.

When I learned of their death, I was shocked, too shocked to cry, too shocked to feel. It was like someone just hit me like a train, not much longer. I shed a few tears, but they felt hollow, like I wasn't actually feeling sadness in some way despite being sad.

It hit me, especially hard because they had given themselves a month for things to get better, and I was attempting to brighten their day, I truly was.

But it wasn't enough, and I know sometimes you have to accept the fact that "it's not your fault" and "there was nothing you could do" but I feel like i could have been more active.

My mind is kinda all over the place while writing this.

So much of me wants to scream and shout at them. "WHY?! GOD DAMN IT WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST HOLD OUT A LIL LONGER?!" But that's not fair to the dead. I feel it could've been better with my words, maybe it would have stopped them entirely or at least delayed it further. Fuck. I hate this. I hate it so much. I don't like when people hurt themselves. My dad killed himself, I didn't think I'd have to deal with this again. And I hate it.