'The boy on the right is my brother Mark. And we need to talk about what happened to him.'

I would describe Mark as having a kind soul. He was always the first one to help people out, he was my go-to guy. He was sarcastic with a cheeky sense of humour, and when he found something funny his smile would light up his entire face. He was never diagnosed with any mental health issues.

After finishing school he didn’t really know what he wanted to do in terms of his career, and I think he just lost his way a bit. He had a couple of jobs and would hang around with mates like any 20-year-old guy, but he didn’t really have any plans or direction for his future. Even though we knew something wasn’t quite right, none of us had any idea how bad the battles in his head must have been.

I remember it was a Tuesday, just a plain old normal Tuesday. I don’t remember much about the day, I can’t tell you what I was wearing or what I ate for lunch. All I remember is my Mum ringing me at work and telling me I had to leave and drive to her office as soon as possible. She wouldn’t tell me why, and said she would tell me once I got there. I panicked a little bit, I remember my colleagues trying to calm me down and telling me to drive safely. I arrived at Mum’s work and was greeted by her boss and a handful of police.

I was told that they thought Mark had taken his own life.

I remember not understanding, I think I went straight into shock, I didn’t even cry initially. The police asked if I would be able to pick up my other brother Chris and then meet them and my Mum at my apartment. I was in auto-pilot, so of course I would pick him up, I didn’t even hesitate. It didn’t occur to me at that point that it would mean I was the person that had to tell him what had happened. They were twins, they were best mates and if there's one memory I wish I could forget, it would be this moment. It was by far one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

When I look back on it now, I think that I felt I had to step up and be the strong one. I tried to hold it together, because I knew the rest of my family couldn’t. This worked for a while, I made it through the funeral, I returned to work after two weeks leave and I thought I was okay. My life was different, but I really honestly thought I was okay.

Then all at once it hit me, in what I can only describe as a total breakdown. I just lost it. I couldn’t go to work, I felt like everything was too much and I needed to escape. Which is exactly what I did. I ran away to Bali for three weeks on my own and it was exactly like that quote: Sometimes you just need a break in a beautiful place alone to figure everything out.

Life has returned to what I call our 'new normal.' Some days are bad, but the majority are good. I still can’t listen to the songs that we played at Mark’s funeral, and every time Facebook shows me an “on this day” memory that involves Mark I hesitate to open it, afraid of what it might be.

I feel awkward when I meet someone new and they ask me about my family. I’m always cautious about what I say. Even though I’m comfortable talking about it, I know its not so easy for other people. They become worried about saying the wrong thing or upsetting me and I don’t like putting people in that position.

I’ve learnt a lot over the last two years. Mark left us letters that were pages long but there's a particular line that sticks out to me. He wrote, "I wish I could have gotten on this earlier and beaten it, but it was just too late."

So how do we stop this happening? What is it that makes it so hard for people to reach out for help? Post continues after gallery. 

Mental health services in Australia

Suicide is awkward to talk about, predominately due to the stigma surrounding all mental health issues. I recently fell in love with an article written by Poorna Bell - it was a letter addressed to her husband after he died by suicide. She writes, "while there is no hierarchy of death where one is better than the other, it's safe to say that living a long life is at the top, while a short one is at the bottom. I don’t know where suicide sits, but it's safe to say, it makes other people REALLY uncomfortable."

We need to get comfortable talking about mental health issues. We need to make it so those conversations no longer feel awkward. Yes, it's hard, and it's often misunderstood, but by talking about it we break the stigma and we allow those that are suffering to reach out and ask for help.

You might not feel like you can help someone or like you don’t know what you’re expected to do, but if you think someone you know may be struggling you can start with a simple conversation. Let that person know that you care, that you’re here for them, and really listen to what they have to say. Check in on them regularly and encourage them to seek professional help.

Put simply – we need to look after each other. And as one of my favourite quotes says: I hope you know you’re capable and brave and significant. Even when it feels like you’re not. 

If this post has raised issues for you, please call Lifeline on 13 11 14. Other resources are listed below. 

http://www.mind.org.uk

https://www.beyondblue.org.au

http://www.blackdoginstitute.org.au

This post originally appeared on The Only Blonde One, which you can follow on Facebook here.