Losing a Loved One to Suicide: My Story, My Grief, and How Healing Is Possible

When I heard my mom’s scream, I knew something had happened.

It wasn’t just a scream—it was something primal, something I had never heard before. It was the kind of sound that comes from a place so deep, so wounded, that words cannot reach it. It reminded me of a lioness who had just lost her cub. That sound didn’t just fill the room—it went through my entire body. I felt it in my chest, in my bones.

And in that moment, something inside me already knew.

That was the moment I learned my brother had died by suicide.

I was 20 years old.

The Shock of Losing a Loved One to Suicide

If you’ve been through this… you probably know what I mean.

Your mind refuses to accept reality.

I remember asking my mom over and over:
“Are you sure they said his name?”
“They must have made a mistake.”
“It can’t be him.”

My brain was trying to protect me.

And if this has happened to you—you might remember that same disbelief.

The Denial That Follows Suicide Loss

When my family left to bring my brother’s body home, I stayed behind to prepare the house for the funeral.

I was cleaning—but not really present.

Inside, my mind kept saying:
“This isn’t real.”
“They made a mistake.”
“He’s alive.”

For two days, I lived in denial.

And if you’ve experienced grief after suicide, you may know this space—where part of you knows the truth, and another part refuses to accept it.

The Moment Everything Changed

And then I saw him.

If you’ve ever had to see your loved one after loss… you know.

That moment changes you.

When I saw my brother’s body, something inside me collapsed. Time stopped, and everything shattered at the same time.

That was the moment I could no longer deny the truth.

I didn’t have words for it back then. I just knew something wasn’t right.

The Hidden Pain: Family Grief After Suicide

What many people don’t talk about is what happens to a family after suicide.

I had two other siblings.

But we didn’t grieve together.

We grieved alone.

We were in the same house—but emotionally separated by pain we didn’t know how to express.

We didn’t talk about it.
We didn’t process it.
We didn’t cry together.

And while I was trying to be strong for my mom… no one was there for me. Or for my siblings.

Looking back now—I understand this in a completely different way.

Grief after suicide often becomes silent, unprocessed grief.

Watching My Mother’s Depression

The hardest part for me was watching my mom.

She didn’t just grieve—she broke.

And underneath her grief, there was something else I could feel, even if it was never spoken:

Guilt.

“What did I miss?”
“What could I have done?”

Even now, 30 years later, my mom still lives with this pain.

She often says:
“There is no day that goes by that I don’t think about my son.”

And I believe her.

But thinking is not the same as healing.

Our family never processed this trauma together.

And when grief is not processed—it doesn’t disappear.

It stays.

Becoming the Strong One (And Losing Myself)

Without realizing it, I made a decision:

“I need to be strong.”

So I pushed my grief away.

If you became “the strong one” after a loss, you may relate:

You take care of everyone else
You suppress your emotions
You ignore your own needs

That’s exactly what I did.

And slowly… I disappeared.

Losing Faith After Trauma

There was another loss I didn’t expect.

I lost my faith.

I remember asking:
“How could this happen?”
“Why wasn’t he protected?”

There were no answers.

Only silence.

And if you’ve been there—you know how heavy that silence can feel.

Living With Unprocessed Grief

Life continued—but I wasn’t really living.

I smiled.
I laughed.
I pretended everything was okay.

But inside, I was breaking.

And like many people experiencing suicide loss grief, I learned to hide the truth.

If you’re reading this and feeling something in your chest… that makes sense.

My Healing Journey Through Therapy

It wasn’t until years later—through therapy—that I began to process my grief.

If you are dealing with grief after losing someone to suicide, this is important:

I wish I could say healing happens by avoiding pain—but it doesn’t.

It happens by gently allowing yourself to feel it.

One of the hardest emotions for me was anger.

But I learned:

Anger is part of grief.
And allowing it is part of healing.

What I Learned About Suicide as a Therapist

This work is deeply personal to me.

And through both personal experience and years of clinical work, one truth stands out:

Most people who struggle with suicidal thoughts don’t actually want to die.

They want relief from pain.

I have worked with people who felt like they were standing at the edge—and I have witnessed them find their way back to life, one small step at a time:

Rebuilding their lives
Finding meaning again
Reconnecting with others
Experiencing moments of joy

Healing is possible.

If You Are Grieving a Suicide Loss

If you have lost someone like I did…

You are not alone.

Grief after suicide is complex and often misunderstood.

You may feel:

• guilt
• confusion
• anger
• deep loneliness

I know how heavy this can feel.

And you don’t have to carry it alone.

If You Are Struggling Right Now

If you are struggling…
If you feel like there is no way out…

Please know this:

Your life matters.

Even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.

If you are in the U.S., you can call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline).

Therapy for Grief, Trauma, and Depression in Evanston, Northfield & Chicago

If this story resonates with you—whether you are grieving or struggling—you don’t have to go through this alone.

At Unify Counseling, we offer therapy in Evanston, Northfield, and the greater Chicago area, both in-person and via telehealth.

We have built a team of therapists who are deeply compassionate, highly trained, and experienced in supporting:

complicated grief
depression and trauma
anxiety and life transitions

You will be matched with a therapist who can meet you where you are and support you at your own pace.

Book a consultation today and get connected with a therapist at Unify Counseling

Final Words

I lost my brother.

And that loss shaped who I became.

But it also gave me a mission:

To help others stay.
To help people find hope again.
To remind you—

Even in the darkest moments, your life is worth living.

About the Author

Dalia Vaisaite, LMFT, is the founder of Unify Counseling, a group practice serving Evanston, Northfield, and the greater Chicago area. She specializes in complex trauma, anxiety, depression, and life transitions, and is passionate about helping individuals feel understood, supported, and not alone in their healing.