I have a lot of undealt with feelings over my brother's passing by way of suicide. I feel in my heart because I didn't do something more I let him down. I'm a born again Christian, but raised in a dysfunctional abusive home. I know that had something to do with his death. I feel like I should've shared my faith more and then maybe he would've found the hope he was looking for in God, instead of drugs and alcohol. Then sometimes I feel relief because it's finally all over. The not knowing if he'd make it back alive from hardcore partying every night, or when his next D.U.I. would be or what embarassing thing would he say at family get togethers when his mental illness would come into play. (He suffered from dual diagnosis as well do I.) I just don't know if I'll ever recover from this. The fact that I will NEVER see him again on earth is overwhelming. I'm still at the stage that I think if I think hard enough, he'll come back and everything will be okay. One role I've always played in my family is the "fixer." It pains me I can't fix this situation.