to offer you some insight.

I first want you to know how very sorry I am for what you've gone through. Reading your story touched me deeply and made me imagine what my family would experience if ever I went through with things—truthfully, it's that thought that keeps me from doing it. 

I have suffered from a severe mental illness for 21 years now—the idea of suicide has become a constant companion that I have to grapple with monthly. 

While I don't know your brother's unique circumstances, I can maybe give you an insight into why someone might do something that seems so hurtful and selfish given the collatoral damage suicide leaves behind. 

When I'm suffering particullarly bad, I don't want the people I love to know what I'm dealing with. I love them so much I don't want them to worry. I don't want them to hurt—I know they have their own stuff to deal with in life—and while thinking these things over, I start to judge myself, convincing myself I'm such a burden on those I love, and soon enough I've devalued myself in the eyes of others (incorrectly) to the point where I believe it would be best for them if I was no longer here. 

The flipside of that is, let's say someone I know, who loves me, is aware that I'm feeling suicidal. What are their options?

It's like I'm standing in the window of a sckyscraper that's on fire—my loved one is on the street pleading with me not to jump—but when I turn around all I see is fire. As much as I love my family, do they expect me to burn alive instead of jump?

What's expected of both of us?

I think the answer is this: 

For my loved ones, their duty is to tell me not to jump, to hold on for as long as I can. Even if I can't see them, it's important for me to hear them.

For me, it's my duty to try to outlast the heat of the fire, focus on the words of my loved ones, and hope that a ladder will break through the smoke and offer me a way out.

Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. This is my mantra.

But suicide is also something that can oddly feel like an act of love from the perspective of the person who is considering it. I can honestly say there have been times where the love I have for my family is so great that I wanted to relieve them of me.

Life isn't black and white—life happens in the grays, and one of the grayest parts of life is that suicide can have two people standing on opposite sides of the problem, loving one another tremendously. 

For those standing at the window—steady yourselves, listen for the words of your loved ones.

For those who love us, keep shouting up, because it's hot in here.