(Trigger warning: This story includes content on depression and suicide)
It has been over nine months since I became an only child. I know Iâm not alone in my experience of sibling griefâespecially when weâre still in the midst of a pandemic that has robbed millions of lives around the world. However, my grief stems from a different kind of pandemicâone that many have heard of and some have even spoken about, but still so few truly grasp.
On October 14, 2020, my older brother Brian Khoo Yew Jin became a victim of suicide. He was only 28. This is the person who has known me from birth; who has lived in the room across mine for 25 years; who attended the same primary and secondary schools three years ahead of me; and who influenced my participation in sports and adrenaline activitiesâmany of which he played my partner in crime.
Never would I have imagined that heâd succumb to the mental health pandemic that took 631 lives last year alone. And not a day has gone by since that I donât think about him or what happened, why, and what could have been. But this isnât an account of his suicide story; I have already spoken publicly about that following his death.
This is an account of the lessons Iâve learnt since I lost my brother to the dark battles he fought alone, in hopes that it may help provide insight or solace if you or someone you know is struggling with mental health issues and suicidal thoughts.
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I learnt why trigger warnings are important
Iâll be honest: As a writer, it would have made sense to use the word âsuicideâ in the headline of this article. But thereâs a reason why trigger warnings exist, and Iâll confess that I never truly understood them until I personally experienced what they warn about. For the unacquainted, a trigger warning is a statement at the start of a piece of content (be it in text, audio, or video format) to alert the reader or viewer that it contains potentially distressing material.

There are debates to this day on whether trigger warnings are effective or necessary. While I canât speak for everyone, my personal experience tells me they are. Even now, when I come across the word suicide, I almost instantly feel my heart palpitations and think of my brother. Itâs a fleeting moment and I usually am able to regulate my emotions after, but it still happens. If I feel it, Iâm certain others do tooâsome possibly to a worser extent.
On the contrary, trigger warnings help me to anticipate the subject beforehand. I find that Iâm generally more prepared and receptive towards sensitive content (particularly on suicide) with trigger warnings than those without. This is why I make it a point to include them wherever relevant, and why I hope my fellow journalists and all content creators will consider doing so too.
I learnt to recognise the symptoms and not take them lightly
Itâs one thing to acknowledge that mental health issues exist; itâs another thing entirely to be educated on the symptoms. While Iâm a communications graduate, I had also taken up several psychology subjects in university, so I wasnât ignorant of the symptoms of common mental disorders such as depression (major depressive disorder) and PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).
The part that haunts meâand remains the cause of my lingering guiltâis that I saw the signs.
My brother was never diagnosed, but he had not been himself in the weeks before he took his own life. He sighed unusually often, his appetite had changed, and he barely spoke. When he did, his voice sounded sombre and strained. On hindsight, it seems blatantly clear that he needed more than my familyâs supportâhe needed psychiatric treatment for what I now concede as symptoms of depression. But for some reason I canât explain, it just didnât hit me then.
Maybe I didnât want to believe it or maybe I was too caught up with living my own life. Whatever the reason, Iâve learnt the hardest way possible not to take the signs lightly now.
Symptoms arenât just something to look out for in others, itâs important to know for your own sake too. Thereâs a difference between feeling sad, anxious and/or disoriented, and having a mental disorder. Having a good support system may help with the former, but you need professional intervention when it comes to the latter.
When in doubt, always ask questions and look for answers. Donât brush things aside.
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I learnt to be kind to others (and myself)
Not many people know this, but the day before my brother died, another friend opened up to me about their suicidal thoughts. I thank God that I was able to support my friend that day, but little did I know my own brother had those same thoughts running through his mind.
I remember very clearly thinking to myself after I heard the news from my father, who was the first in my family to find out about my brotherâs death: âHow could I have been there for my friend but not my own brother?â
âWhy did he not tell me what he was going through?â
âWhat if I had made more time for him?â
I donât know if it would have made a difference, but at least then I would have had the chance to try. I still wake up with those questions plaguing my mind on some mornings, as recent as a week ago. My heart aches inexplicably in those moments, but Iâve accepted that I canât change what happened. I can only try to ensure it doesnât happen to someone else.
After I shared my brotherâs story, many other friends, acquaintances, and even strangers have confided in me with their mental health problems. Most of them were related to depression, while a few were suicidal. No two individuals who did so had the same struggles or triggers. If I knew not to judge a book by its cover before, I am even more convinced now that everyone is fighting a battle others know nothing about. Please, be kind.
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I learnt that itâs okay to prioritise my own mental health
Being a suicide loss survivor has impelled me to be more vocal about mental health. But the truth is that sometimes the burden feels too heavy and I get overwhelmed with trying to be there for others when some days, it takes a lot to even show up for myself.
I often find myself caught between two fires: one that Iâm trying to put out (mental health issues) and another that Iâm trying to keep aflame (my own mental health). The more I try to put out the first fire, the faster the other burns out. When I turn to tend the latterâs flames, the former blazes up again.
Yes, mental health advocacy is a burden that Iâll carry with me for life. I will never stop speaking about it, but I am learning that I deserve to take a step back when I have to. I deserve to keep my fire burning while others step in to put the other fire out.
I am learning not to be too hard on myself if I canât help everyone.
I am learning to practise what I preach and not feel guilty for asking for help from my own support system.
I am still learningâagainst my perfectionist tendencies and my ego telling me Iâm not doing enoughâthat sometimes, I need to let go.
Rest is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of wisdom for taking care of the body that works so hard to keep meâand my loved onesâalive and well.
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