Monday, June 20, 2011

No Words

Today I woke up feeling like crying. I'm not really sure what it is about the rain, but some days it makes me terribly sad.

A friend reached out to me last week to ask if I would speak to a friend of their's who just lost her brother to suicide. I emailed the person, but after a year I still struggle to find the words that will bring me comfort. Because there are no words.

Nothing can bring back a loved one lost to suicide, and there are truly no words of comfort to offer (at least, none that I have found). Not "it gets better" or "it gets easier" or "you're so strong" or "I'm sure he knew you loved him" or any of the things people think will be comforting but are not. Words can't heal the little hole inside you. I don't know what can.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

1 Year

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death.

Sometimes it feels like it happened so long ago, sometimes like it happened yesterday.

I can still remember exactly where I was standing when I got the call from my dad. Feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest, the blood rushing like a windstorm in my ears, the disbelief, the terror, the sadness, the pain.

The details of that day are carved into my soul. I still miss him every day.

I don't think losing someone you love gets easier. You just learn how to cope with it better. You learn to live with the little hole in your heart; it may get smaller over time, but it never goes away. And that's okay. It helps to remind me to be thankful every day for the good things in my life, and to tell those close to me that I love them.

Thank you to all of the wonderful friends who have helped me and supported me through a pretty hellish year. You're a good part of the reason I'm doing okay.