Entry 7 – June 17 ‘Blur’ 

Misty silhouettes appeared in my eyes, I could no longer see. I tried to scream, I couldn’t. Strapped to our family green leather couch as if I was handcuffed. I finally can let a cry out, I wail like I have never wailed before, the pain and anguish of having my heart ripped from my chest was unbearable, as two diazepam were shoved down my throat. I stopped wailing, I sat back, wide eyed in silence.  
In silence is where I remained. My counsellor has said that in the whole of her professional life, she has never witnessed someone in as much shock as me. A deer in headlights, a scared child at night under the covers, this is what I had become. I begged my mum to let me go a walk – but they could see the vulnerability in my eyes and were wary that I was no longer safe, they denied m this request.

So I sat, for what seemed like an eternity; staring blankly at a photo of my brother and I on our family living room wall, my vision altered, the room pulsing. I wasn’t processing, thinking or connecting, I was just staring.

I stand, calmly ask for David. In our blank hallway that was previously filled with photographs and art pieces I stood with David in front of me, I simply wanted to know what he knew. To receive the information I needed in bullet point form, one word answers which allowed me to think. I got four as a response, then he walked away. I will never forget that moment we spoke, the calmness in his voice and the obedience he showed me through listening to what I needed at that point in my life. His voice didn’t waver, his tone didn’t change, he breathed slowly and the words escaped him:

1- 5AM

2- LONDON

3- BELT

4- DEAD

Did I know my little brother, the light of my life, my best friend forever, committed suicide before David mentioned the belt? Yes I did. I didn’t think my brother was stabbed or the victim of a hit and run. I knew the moment I stepped out of my car in the driveway and looked at my mum in the eye and witnessed the king of our household crumble from beneath himself that my brother had taken his own life. More importantly, I knew in my heart, at 4.19am that morning on Saturday 18th March that half of my soul had been taken and life would cease to exist.

The phone kept ringing, family members flocked to the house – ones I didn’t want to see and some that I did. I sent a group text to those who mattered to me, knowing that I could give them jobs that needed completed and it would be done no questions asked.

• Andrew – Look after our clubs, close what you need too and ask for privacy.

• Conall – Contact university and tell them what happened and I will be in touch soon

• Donna – Call my work


The house became quiet again, I tossed and turned on the living room sofa by 3am I gave up and headed to my parents’ bedroom and climbed in beside my mum. We didn’t sleep, but we didn’t speak either, we fought the darkness of the 18th March in silence. It was a pinnacle of our future, and the decision to fight was something we made to ourselves for our own sanity and wellbeing because we knew this nightmare was about to get a whole lot worse.

5am came and alarms went off.

The Geddis Family was on their way to London.

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