And there, in that letter, was that little bomb. Apparently, he got too tired to hang on and he let go. I know the devastation of suicide. In elementary school, a classmate's mother committed suicide. I went to school with her daughters through junior high and high school and watched the changes.
Suicide is never something done casually and without thought.
I can't help being shaken by these two suicides. I know the weariness of struggling so hard with the residual deficits. I know the grief and the occasional despair over the lost dreams and goals. I know the frustration of wondering if my life will ever become productive enough to be satisfying. I know the fear of wondering what my life will be like as I deal with the realities of age in addition to the deficits of my brain injury.