Dancing Salamanders

Siblings

20 September 20246 min read

When a sibling dies by suicide, something happens that few people talk about: you become bereaved and invisible at the same time. The flowers, the conversations and the care are often directed at the parents, or at a partner. And you stand there beside them, with one of life's greatest losses in your chest, and hear yourself asking "how are mum and dad doing?" while nobody asks how you're doing.

If you recognise this, we want to say something directly to you: your grief counts. Fully. Losing a sibling is not a smaller grief because others are also grieving. Those of us who have lost someone know how easy it is to step aside for the sake of others. This piece is for you — for those who have done that, and who need to hear that they also get to take up space.

The Forgotten Bereaved

There is even a term for it: the forgotten bereaved. Siblings often end up in the shadows when a death occurs. The outside world turns to the parents with its compassion, and you are almost expected to help carry their grief.

Many of us have been asked "how are your parents?" over and over — and almost never asked about ourselves. It isn't meant unkindly. But it makes your loss invisible, and you can start to believe it isn't as important.

It is. You shared something nobody else shared. A sibling is often the person who has been longest in your life beside your parents — and the assumption was that you would be there for each other far into the future.

Losing the Person Who Would Have Shared the Whole Life

A sibling carries your childhood with them. The same kitchen, the same Christmases, the same family jokes that nobody outside understands. You were witnesses to each other's lives from the beginning. When a sibling dies, you lose not only a person — you lose part of your own history, the only other person who remembered certain things exactly as you did.

And you lose a future. Many of us had an automatic picture of growing old beside our sibling: becoming aunts and uncles to each other's children, looking after your parents together when they got old, calling each other about nothing on an ordinary Tuesday. That future goes quiet. It's a grief that keeps surfacing at every holiday and every milestone that should have been shared.

A sibling shares your beginning and would have shared your future. To lose that is to grieve in two directions at once — backward toward everything you were, and forward toward everything that won't be.

The Guilt That Belongs to Siblinghood

Sibling relationships are rarely only warm. They contain arguments, jealousy, periods of distance, things said that you regret. After a suicide loss, that can become particularly heavy to carry. Many of us get stuck in thoughts like "we hadn't spoken for weeks," "the last time we saw each other we argued," or "I should have been in touch more often."

We want to say this carefully but clearly: an argument, a distance or an unanswered message did not cause this. Suicide always has a complex background, and it can never be laid on one relationship or one moment. That you sometimes disagreed means you were siblings — real, living, human siblings. The love that was underneath the arguments remains. Guilt is grief looking for somewhere to go, and you don't have to carry it alone.

Becoming "the Strong One" Who Holds the Parents Together

One thing happens almost always: the sibling becomes the one who holds things together. You see your parents fall apart and something in you decides to be strong, to manage the practical things, to be the one who doesn't also fall apart. Perhaps you hold back your own grief so as not to burden them.

It's done out of love. But it comes at a price. If you are always carrying others' grief, your own never gets the chance to come through. Many of us discover only much later how much we pushed aside for the family's sake.

You are allowed to be both strong and broken. You're allowed to support your parents and also need support yourself, at the same time. In fact, you can sustain being a support for them longer if you also have somewhere to lay down your own burden.

Who Am I Now?

Losing a sibling can shake the very image of who you are. Am I still a big sister, if the one I was big sister to isn't here? Am I a little brother without my older brother? If you were the only two, the question becomes even heavier: am I an only child now?

Those questions have no simple answers, and you don't have to find them quickly. But we want to say this: you are still a sibling. The bond doesn't disappear because the person has. Many of us carry our role forward — in memory and in how we live — and we never stop having been someone's sister or brother.

Your Grief Deserves Its Own Support

If you take one thing from this piece, let it be this: you have a right to your own grief and your own support. Not as something you get after the parents have received theirs first. But for your own sake, directly.

That might mean putting into words how you're doing for someone you trust. Letting yourself be sad without immediately thinking about how it affects others. Seeking out people who understand specifically the grief of a sibling.

And to you who are a parent reading this with another child in mind: your living children are also grieving, often quietly, so as not to worry you. Asking how they are, and letting them see that they are allowed to grieve fully, is one of the finest gifts you can give them in the middle of the difficulty.


Support right now:

  • Mind Självmordslinjen (Sweden): Call 90101 or chat at mind.se — open around the clock, anonymous and free
  • 1177 — healthcare advice around the clock
  • Emergency: 112
  • Cruse Bereavement Support (UK): cruse.org.uk
  • International Association for Suicide Prevention: iasp.info