lost my brother 5 months ago, and I can’t stop replaying the last moments.

I’m 30 years old, and I lost my younger brother (28) five months ago in the most traumatic way imaginable. He had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and possibly bipolar disorder, but unfortunately, that didn’t spare him from being jailed for five months for a mistake he made, even though he was mentally unwell. When he finally came home, we thought we could support him and help him heal, but that peace lasted only two months before things took a devastating turn.

One Saturday, he sent me a long, chaotic message that ended with him saying he was going to end it all, even urging me to do the same. I could tell he was going through an episode, but I had no idea what was coming. I rushed to where he said he’d be, only to discover he had set himself on fire in public. His bloody footprints were everywhere. The ambulance took him to the hospital, and on the way there, we got the call saying he wouldn’t make it due to the severe burns all over his body.

I couldn’t accept it. I screamed at the doctor on the phone, refusing to believe that my brother was dying. When we got to the hospital, I saw him lying there, barely breathing, covered in burns from head to toe. I’ll never forget that feeling – the helplessness, the disbelief, and the overwhelming grief. He was able to say he loved us one last time before passing away peacefully after a few hours.

In the days that followed, my family and I had to prepare him for burial. Because of our faith, we needed to wash his body, and even though it was painful beyond words, I decided to do it with my friend and cousin. Pouring water over his burned skin and saying goodbye in this way is something I’ll never fully come to terms with.

Since then, life has slowly returned to some kind of ‘normal,’ but I still see his face every night before I sleep. My heart breaks thinking about his suffering, and while I know he’s free from his illness now, I just miss him so much. I’m sharing this here because I know grief takes time, and sometimes it helps to know we’re not alone.