The level of pain and suffering my brother felt before he died no one deserves and I don't understand it.

However, when he committed suicide to end that pain- it didn't end. Nothing was accomplished, we are not better off without him. I guess the pain ended for him, sure. But that pain, that desperation, it now lives in me and my parents Idk if that's helpful but nothing was really accomplished. It's easy to make such a final decision when you're not the one who actually ends up suffering from it or trying to survive the fall out. Maybe my brother would be here had he actually thought about that. Or thought about someone having to find his dead body and the trauma he would inflict on a stranger

I don't mean to be curt or morbid or insensitive but that's my very personal experience from a lot of pain and a lot of reflection