Hey everyone, this is going to be another fairly depressing journal, but I think now would probably be the best time to bring it up. It's something that's been a part of me for close to a decade now, and I'm ready to share this piece of myself with all you. Today I went with my mother and her parents to go visit the grave of my older brother of two years, Joshua Slade Latcham. He's not actually buried there (he was cremated), it's just where his headstone is, complete with a tree that's now gotten pretty tall and some tubes to put flowers in; the kangaroos that roam the cemetery usually eat them up by the time we visit him again, though apparently they didn't like the type we put there last time. We didn't really say much or stay for long, we didn't really have anything to say, it was just the eighth anniversary of his death (which was technically two days ago but I had work so we put off visiting), and then we went to harbor to have lunch as usual; either pizza or churros, which is how I imagine he'd want us to honor him. There wasn't really any sadness, all of us had moved on by now. This journal isn't intended to garner sympathy and it's not something that's distressing for me to talk about, I just couldn't find a more appropriate time to mention this.
I've mentioned it before on this site but only briefly, and that is that my brother committed suicide. 2009 in general was a shit year for me; apart from all the crap that generally comes with being 14, I was really having a hard time at high school between stress of homework and the dreadful relationship I had with plenty of other students, though in retrospect I was absolutely a shitbag so it's not like I didn't bring some of the drama on myself. It felt like a regular day when it happened: I got home, we put the kettle on and were wondering where Josh was, maybe thinking he got home early or left someplace. Then I just remember hearing my mum calling his name out loud from the garage, and then getting all of us (my step-siblings and myself) to call an ambulance and get help. I didn't actually know what had happened at the time other than something horrible had happened to him and was in tears, barely able to do anything. A short time later, the medics informed us that it was too late. I didn't go to school for I think I remember being two months because of how upset I was, and it took at least two years for all of us to really move on. Even now it's actually hard to recall everything that happened that day, and the stuff after that like the funeral and scattering his ashes on his birthday; I thought I wouldn't cry writing this but I am actually tearing up a little. His death did change me however, albeit in a small way. I was still a shitbag for the rest of that year and the next (I got slightly better in my later high school years, but fully matured after that), but I had more motivation to live. Since 2004 I always had a tough time getting along with people, even with the many times we moved between places; I got in a lot of fights and lost nearly all of them. You know that one character in a work of fiction that's miserable and pathetic, yet at the same time hard to empathize with or root for? That was me. I genuinely considered self-harm and even suicide, thinking that my life didn't matter and that no one cared about me. But after seeing how everyone around me reacted to Josh's passing, I realized I had to live; not just for his sake but because I fully understood what it means to lose someone, even if it's not obvious how much you love them.
It's been a long time since I really saw his face or heard his voice, and my memory isn't the best, but I absolutely remember our dynamic as being the typical 'annoying little brother and aloof older brother'; for a comparison you could say I was the Dante to his Vergil, albeit with him as original Vergil and me as DmC 'fuck you' Dante. He found me annoying at times and challenged me to fights that I didn't like, hit or berated me for screwing up, and I was envious of him for being better than me in pretty much every way; smarter, more physically fit, had real friends, always praised by everyone while I was a scrappy little snot with a bad temper. Even still, he influenced me in a lot of ways that make me who I am today. Because I hung around him often, we'd both experience many of the same things like Dungeons & Dragons, anime, cartoons, video games and movies. I always used to watch him play a lot of single player games, mainly RPGs both Western and Japanese, and we played plenty of fighting games like War of the Monsters and Tekken (his favorite character was Lei Wulong). My tastes would differ from his eventually (I wasn't all that into MMORPGs or strategy games), but we were able to talk about a lot of things together. For how belligerent our relationship could be, he was a massive influence and role model for me, and he did care about me. He was outgoing, intelligent, motivated, mature, and he did have a humorous side. It wasn't too often, but he did make it clear that he cared about me and that I was important to him. To this day I don't know the exact reason why he left us, but I know that he would want me to move on and live as my own person. Even though I still have a couple of doubts about myself and what I want to do in life, I do know that I want to try incorporate all of his best qualities while developing my own, and live on for the sake of both of us.
I'm close to tears writing this, but it's okay. I don't talk about this often at all; the people outside of the ones that knew Josh that I've told mostly consist of my closest friends and whoever ends up asking if I had any biological siblings (and me accidentally making it awkward for them). I don't bring it up because it's depressing just by its nature and not appropriate at the time, and this journal has been the most I've talked on the matter in a very long time. It's a tragedy that deeply affected me, and for how ever painful it is I consider it a part of me that I accept. As a message to all of you who read or come across this by any chance, just know this: even if it seems like you have no future, that no one cares about you or that the world is falling apart, you have to live. Life is a random sequence of events where anything can happen at any given moment, and that can include good things. You'll find your place in the world eventually, and if there truly aren't already you will find people that will love you as you love them back. A person's life is intrinsically valuable and irreplaceable, and when it is permanently gone it will be missed. If you have ever considered leaving this mortal world before your time for any reason, please reconsider not just for everyone around you, but for yourself as well; you will accept and love yourself one day, as I have been able to do even when it seemed impossible. Don't ever stop believing in yourself.
To everyone that reads this to the very end, thank you. I rarely talk about my past or topics as personal as this to anyone offline or online, and it's a weird feeling putting such a significant part of myself out there for the whole world to see. Once again I don't expect anyone to say they're sorry, it is okay, really. If I managed to say something that resonated with you, I hope it was in a positive way.
With nothing left to say on the topic, I should probably say to all my watchers right now that there's going to be another personal journal coming up fairly soon; I don't know exactly when, but it's something I absolutely want to talk about. It's about another significant part of myself, a couple of people very close to me and current events going on in Australia, and I would appreciate if you all listened to that as well. Thank you once again for reading this, and take care everybody ♥
Listening to: Eurobeat Brony Ost
Reading: Romance fanfics
Playing: Guilty Gear Xrd Rev 2