I won't bore everyone with my life story - it's not that interesting anyway.
Last year, one of my brothers committed suicide. He was the most loving, caring, generous & decent human being. He should not have died. It should've been me. Every bone in my body is horrible. I haven't done anything bad. But if I analyse every aspect of my life - from being a father to work to relationships, I've failed. A massive failure. No one can look at me and say, wow, look at him, he's done alright. Now, this isn't the reason for me going to commit suicide. I feel so guilty that my beautiful brother is not with us anymore and that he didn't deserve to die. By me going isn't going to bring him back I know - indeed, the suffering that my parents are going through will be double when I go, but I can't carry on living with this guilt. I can't speak to my family or even my friends. They'll only try to talk me out of it.
I'm a coward. A pathetic excuse of a human.