Writing A Book

I was recently asked, what’s it like writing a book? And why did I write this book? Both answers are a little elusive to me, but I’ll start with the second question and I’m hoping that will lead me to both answers.

Why Did I Write This Book?

This particular book did not start off as a planned project. It was started in silent moments when I was lost in depression. I think it may have even been started in its first rough form as the beginning of a suicide note, as an explanation for the reason why I decided to take that path. I know for sure it was started as a journal to my immediate family to explain after I was gone what had been eating me up.

One page turned into two, turned into ten and a sort of healing began to happen. At least enough healing to get rid of the immediate ideation of my suicide. After a few months of this, my journal started looking like something that could actually become a book. It was definitely no longer an explanation for my own pending suicide. And the slight healing feeling it was providing me was well worth the effort.

I worked on it for at least a year or two before I made the real decision to write a book. That is when I really started to dig in and find out what was real and what was imagined. Don’t get me wrong, it was all real to me, but I did have stretches of reality where I was able to convince myself there was no way this was really happening to me, it was just all in my mind and hit hardest on the anniversary months of the suicide, or almost any holiday, his birthday, my birthday.

So back to the question: why did I write the book? It began as a journal, an attempt to explain to my wife and children what was wrong with Dad. After I was well into it and had felt some of the healing effects, I started believing that it could be turned into something that could possibly deter others away from suicide, and console others that thought they were alone in their own vivid imaginations and hallucinations tied to grief and PTSD. I do realize my reactions were extreme, but I also think there is no way that I was the only one that something this far out had experienced. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to have someone read the book, that drops me a line and tells me that something real similar happened to them.

 

What’s It Like to Write a Book?

Well, I don’t know what it is like to write a book of fiction. Again, this one may have quite a few things in it that none of us could possibly think really happened, but to me I was writing an autobiography that was 100% true. So, writing it only involved remembering it as it really happened. Writing it was at least a little bit of therapy that I looked forward to in times of depression.

Writing it and sharing with a few family members that had a semi-knowledge of what happened was a way of saying everything that was on my mind, that I was never able to verbalize. In the case of this particular book there were a lot of tears involved, but I think those tears were far overdue and should have found their way out many years prior to the book. All in all, writing the book was rewarding for my peace of mind.

The Hardest Part: Sharing It with the World

It was publishing it and putting it out to the world that was difficult. There is a lot of stigma that comes along with suicide and mental illness that I had been able to avoid for fifty years by keeping it to myself.

The True Purpose

Bottom-line, this book was written for me and immediate family members as an explanation for what I had put them through living with me. Publishing it was only brought about with a push to help others. Then realizing that helping one person avoid suicide could help generations of people come to life.

In the world of publishing a book as a new author, money cannot be a driving factor. My guess is that you must hit at least a few best sellers lists before a book can become profitable. Notoriety may be a driving reason for others, but I don’t know many people that would like to be known and remembered for having a mental illness such as PTSD or even for having a close family member commit suicide.

I personally do not like excuses, I prefer to accept responsibility for my actions and the way I handle my own life for both personal and work-related issues. So having PTSD and being lost in grief is not an excuse for how I may have dealt with people in the past. Even though over blown reactions to problems are one of the many counterproductive symptoms related to PTSD, we are all still responsible for our own actions.

This is the purpose of the book, what it was like writing it and why I wrote it: to convince at least one person that their suicide is the worst thing in the world they could ever do for the people they love. My mission is simple: to keep this book moving forward; reaching the next person, and the next; for as long as I have the ability to do so.

God and heaven are the only rewards that I seek.

If my story can save a life, it’s all worth it, will you help me share it?

---

If You’re Struggling

If you or someone you love or know is in a dark place, please know you’re not alone and there is help available. Reaching out is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people ready to listen, ready to walk with you, and ready to help.

Immediate assistance is available:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline  

📞 988

Veterans Crisis Line  

📞 1-800-273-8255 (Press 1) | 📱 Text 838255

Survivor Support / Crisis Group  

🌐 https://www.crisishotline.org  📞 832-416-1177

---

💡 If you know someone who needs to hear that they are not alone, share this story. Together, we can create echoes of hope that outlast the pain.

For more than five decades, I carried this story in silence. Silence nearly broke me, but telling it is what keeps hope alive.

Bonded: A Brother’s Love : One Bullet. A Thousand Echoes my hope is that it offers understanding, connection, and even a reason to hold on when life feels unbearable.

📖 Order your copy today and join me in breaking the silence. Together we can spread hope, honor the lost, and change the future.