Rambling...

You know those little flashes when everything seems to be OK, those moments when life seems normal, and you're completely happy and everything's right with the world, and in the next instant, it's gone and you realize that the horrible thing you've put out of your mind is actually reality and it's here to stay?

I've been having those fleeting moments of happiness lately, where in my mind I think to myself at random moments, "When I get home I need to email Tim, I haven't talked to him in a long time" and in the next instant I realize it's because he's gone.

It's literally just an instant that I think about him still being here, and in the next instant I know he isn't and I'm being stupid, and then I wonder through tears, "Is it better to have those happy moments, or is it making it harder to get through this crap?"

Our little band of friends has given up talking about the whole situation, and I guess that's good, why drag down a good time, right? But I wonder what everyone else remembers, what everyone else is thinking. Are they thinking about Tim? Is anyone else missing him, is that hole in the room something only I notice?

I'm afraid to bring it up, because I don't know. I don't know where everyone stands, and for all I know, bringing the whole thing up could interrupt the one good day someone is having. Or maybe no one is thinking about it at all.

Dealing with someone's suicide is not only a shock to the system, but in many ways, it's terribly isolating. We missed our support group this week--after the week I had, I was just way too tired. Michael and I drove home Thursday afternoon and just as we got back, I said, "That group is tonight, but I have zero desire to drive back up to Woodbridge." And even though he admitted to feeling sad, and I was feeling sad, we decided not to go anyway.

I guess in a way, I want to sit down and talk about it, but in a way, I don't. The grief in the beginning was dealt with so unevenly that even that was getting me upset. I guess some of the fear is my own.