my uncle killed himself a while ago. sorry I know that title might be misleading. he killed himself before I was born.
we don't talk about him. I mean we do, my dad will talk about childhood stories and mention his brother every now and then. I'll go to my grandparents house and see his pictures all around, paired with those of my dad. but we never actually talk about it.
my mum spoke about it today. for as long as I've known, my dad was never an emotional man. sure, he was nice, but he never really comforted me when I cried. he's not really all there. he takes everything as a joke. apparently he wasn't always like that. apparently he used to be more, but his brother's suicide really changed him. he couldn't go outside for months. he retreated into himself, it's a coping mechanism. he's built up these insane walls to protect himself.
I never knew my uncle. sometimes I wonder if he would've taken care of me sometimes. maybe he would've visited during Christmas, maybe he would've been close. maybe he would've been the unstable guy we don't talk to. I don't know. I never knew him. nobody has told me about who he was.
he's like a shadow over me. a presence I know was there but never really knew. he's an omen of what I couldve been. an omen of what I might be. he shows me the pain I could cause people if I give in. I feel connected to him. or at least the ghost of him. the mentions left of him.
maybe if he didn't give in that day, he would be here. maybe he'd get help. maybe I'd be able to sit with him and talk about my suicidal ideation. he might have said 'you know, I felt like that once' and we couldve bonded when I had nobody to bond with. maybe I'm just making a false narrative in my head. maybe this is nothing. he's just a guy who died before I was born. but it is haunting knowing he is what I could be.
I won't let that be me. I will live to continue the life he never had. I still feel like I'm thinking about this too hard. I don't know him. I never knew him and I never will, but suicide still follows me. the feelings have been here since I was a kid. when did his start? would we have been able to relate?
there's all the chance we wouldn't have gotten along. I remember overhearing a hushed conversation about him once. something along the lines of "he was unstable and nobody really knew how to help him" . how it was probably a "spur of the moment decision". maybe he would've been unstable, in and out of mental health facilities, maybe he wouldve been the guy we avoided. again, I'll never know.
he was suicidal. and now I'm suicidal. and we were related. I would visit his grave if I knew where it was. I don't even know, was he buried? was he cremated? I don't know if I want the answer to any of this. the world can't go back. he's gone and has been for a long while. and I'm not. and as it stands, he is proof for me that suicide is not the answer.
I don't believe in heaven. but if there is any afterlife at all, any sign he is watching over me for any possible reason, I hope he knows I think about him a lot. and despite how bad I get, I would never do it. I'm going to live. and I'm going to go through the highs and the lows and everything in the middle and I'm going to laugh and I'm going to cry and I'm going to love and greive and experience what it is to be alive. because he never got to.