08/31/2026
3 years ago today, I lost my brother to su***de.
Even typing those words still knocks the breath out of my chest.
Iāve never been shy about sharing about my life.
Itās not ordinary. And I know that others can pull from it.
My brother and I spent a large majority of my childhood between foster care and living with abuse/extreme neglect.
Very traumatic, long story short- I raised my brother. Until we were adopted and even then, we kinda co-parented š¤£
So losing him felt like losing a child. I used to always joke that he was my practice kid.
Losing him burnt my soul in a way I can never explain. There will always be ābefore Mikey diedā and āafter Mikey diedā.
Not just because he is gone, but because of the way it happened. We also lost our dad to su***de a few years before.
Help for mental illnesses is lacking.
Especially for men.
I talk about it because mental illness isnāt something to be ashamed of.
And I have made it a life goal to always slow down when someone I know reaches out for a branch to hold onto.
I truly believe that I would rather sit with you in your chaos, in your darkness, while your brain lies to you than have to sit at your funeral.
I share all of this because
1) I love talking about my brother. I didnāt for a long time after he died.
The words would just get swallowed in my tears.
But now, I can. The tears still come often but I just talk through them and hope whoever is listening is good at guessing what I say š¤£
2)Mental illness isnāt something to be ashamed of. There is help. Sometimes itās just hard to find it.
3) take the f****** pictures. Be in the pictures, take the pictures, print the pictures, save the pictures.
4)please stay. The world is ugly sometimes. But it really is so much better with you here.
Iām so grateful now that I take so many photos all the time.
Because thatās all I have now. That and a million memories ā¤ļø
