I am leftover chicken

Forgotten. Alienated. Cast aside and left out.

 

These are the common feelings of sibling survivors of suicides.

And I am among them.

I grasp the concept of his absence, and I accept the plain and simple facts - (1) I will never fully comprehend, (2) I will always ask 'why' and (3) my mission is to continue on, proclaiming the goodness of the Savior until I can go to Heaven too.

 

"How are your parents?" uuhhhh.....

If I had a dollar for every time someone has side-stepped my own tragedy to emphasize my parents' hurt, I could move to Bermuda.

I am not AT ALL 'ranking' the pain that we are all feeling. But to assume that the burden of this pain is greater for one than the other is ludicrous. Truly.

My brother was a piece of me. We shared DNA. I would have given my life for him - and he knew it.

Although I never nursed him, I did change a fair share of diapers, completed his homework more times than he did in younger years, knelt before God in more pleas for mercy on his behalf than I can count, I took him in, and of course I rescued him at 2am many many times.

I am not Ryan's mom. I am not Ryan's dad. I am Ryan's sister. His only sibling. And I hurt too.

 

To assume that there is some love-scale is unbiblical. Jesus Himself dumped the perceived family structure on it's head in the Gospels of John, Mark, Luke, and the book of Acts.

"It must be so terrible for them." Yeah, it must be.

I pray every night that I will never know their pain. But that doesn't mean that I'm not hurting too.

I'm an only child now, at 29. How in the world does one deal with that?!

A part of me died on April 25. Can't anyone understand that I'll never be whole either?

How do I keep from wondering if my parents secretly wish I was gone and he was here?

How do I keep from getting supremely offended that they give away his stuff without thinking that it might matter to me?

How do I let it all go, and just assume the role of "the sister" who obviously doesn't have a hand in the rest of the process to healing?

How do I "get over it" when I am wounded so deeply by the very people I have to console?

How do I mourn alone, without contempt and blame eating my heart piece by piece?

My mom says things like "I don't know if I'll ever be happy again." or "Life doesn't go on for me, I'll never heal." "My purpose in life was to have Ryan." and what I hear is "Ryan made life worth living" and "he is more important than you."

--These feelings are not new to me, I have been living with this silent agony for a lifetime. But as I got closer to Ryan, the older we got, I was able to overcome my inferiority complex because he always told me that I mattered to him.--

 

How do I express my deepest thoughts, fears, and emotions when I feel like a foreigner in this pain?

Why do I feel like my family is unraveling without my brother here to hold us together?

Well, it's because we are. There are now 2 distinct 'family' units. Us and them. Ryan always included me, always kept me in the loop, and I hate that I am now left wondering.

 

So, Ryan, if you can hear me - I miss you. I miss how you always kept me in the picture.

I miss that I was never "leftover chicken" to you.

I miss my brother. MY BROTHER..

I love you, Ralphy.

5 mile bike ride.

 

--Julie--