My baby sister committed suicide on December 12.
She had always been a difficult child. Ever since I can remember, my parents had been put to test with her. Dropping out of school, going back again, leaving the house, running away with the boyfriends, family fights, overweight, then too skinny, bulimia you name it, she probably did it.
She was weird mood swings. She was happy for periods time, whenever she was happy she was the best. She was funny, caring, loving and a blast to be around.
She had bad times too. Being around her during this time was so unpleasant. My parents loved to pieces, they wanted to be close to her but she always fund a way to push them away, making them feel bad. I thought of her as ungrateful at times since I really didn't understand why she was so mean to our parents.
We never understood her.
On the other hand, Besides being overweight sometimes, she always had problems staying fit, she was good looking, and A student in every single class she took. We also grew up in a privileged household, my parents are well off. We were given everything, not only in term of money, but support and lots of love and understanding from our parents. She was sociable, popular and nice to other people. Everything outside her family (us) was laughs and jokes. She was the friendliest, a flirt.
We were the only ones really who saw her ungrateful mean side when she was during her bad periods of time, as we called it.
When I finished college and turned 25, I left my house to spend a year abroad. I had broken up with my boyfriend and the fights at home were more constant. My job was not as good and little things made me decide to go live abroad and get some fresh air.
I left. Soon after I left, my sister decided to move out of sate as well. She wanted to be free and independent. Things definitely improved. She was nicer to my parents since they didn't live together anymore. My parents missed her so they visited frequently. They had a great time and rarely and never fought again. My parents thought that all those stressful times were gone.
With me living away I thought it was good thing. My sister always felt that I was my parents' favorite since they rarely grounded me. I was not a trouble maker so there was no reason for me to be punished. Don't get me wrong, we always got along despite everything. We would go out a lot, hang out and during her difficult times I was the only one she never really pushed away.
I ended up getting married here and started my own family. I never really thought I was going to stay but I met my other half so I stayed. I left my job, my family no friends.
She graduated from medical school with the highest honors and was offered to be part of the team in a military base back home. I forgot to mentioned my sister was gifted. Brilliant and smart, besides pretty. She had everything going on for her. Everything.
I was so proud of her. I always wanted to be like her. She had it all. She was everything I wanted to be. Brilliant, smart, pretty, sociable, outgoing, outspoken and determined.
Part of me feels guilty for breaking my family. I've always felt sad for leaving them and not being able to spend quality time with them, like we used to. We had really bad moment but my parents were always very good at keeping us together as much as they could. So we did have very good memories together as a family.
I rarely came back to the motherland. Different reasons, like money, pregnancies, etc. so my sites finally came here to visit me, see my house and meet her little niece and nephew.
We had a great time, and I realized how much I missed her. We used to sleep in the same bed up until I was 25 and moved out. I remember having a hard time sleeping since pretty much my entire life I always shared a bed with her. We played video games together, shopping, restaurants.
I loved her despite her bad moods. We knew how to make each other laugh. We were goofy and silly together, nothing changed even after we didn't see each other for almost 5 years. She loved the babies and had a great time.
Exactly a week after she went back home. She killed herself.
She had been going to the doctor for her mental health. She was diagnosed with Major Depression Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Suicide Ideation and intermittent Bipolar Disorder.
Guilt? I'm drowning. I can't breathe. If I had known she had all that. It makes sense now, drastic mood changes? Of course. I always thought of her as ungrateful at times, we never really understood her. We were ignorant this whole time.
She also kept all this to herself. After she moved away, we only saw her happy. That's all she let us know. We had no idea. We would've have done anything for her. We loved her. If she had only let us know.
Guilt will always be part of my life. I can write down a list of all the things I could've done differently. I can think of a 1000x things that I would have done to help her.
But she's gone now. I know I gotta learn how to life with this. I've been crying a lot, thinking of her. Everything reminds me of her and all the things I didn't do. I feel like a crappy sister because I couldn't help her. But if she didn't want anyone to know, it was impossible to help her and that's the truth. It doesn't feel this way for me now, I hope some day I learn how to get past the guilt.
Logically there's nothing someone could've done if she didn't want to be helped. Inside, I failed and I gotta live with this now.
It's natural you feel this way. Suicide is a different kind of death, it leaves every single person involved with a certain amount of guilt.