How to be a Alive.

The days are sort of flying by and I do not know how i feel about this.

Life, for the most part, is returning to normal. I am no longer whispered about at job ('what's wrong with Beckett'), my grief and sadness, have been replaced by every one's sense of personal disappointment, agitation or own personal going- ons. It's sort of like the last few weeks have been brushed under some invisible carpet. The people around me know that something is array, that i am different, a little more jaded, angry and distant but they do not bring it up for fear of revealing the mess underneath my facade.

Outside of Saturday when i sort of allowed myself to be sad in front of Sean (even if he couldn't feel me crying against him), I have closed myself off emotionally from letting people into my head. It's my safety net. I have always felt responsible for other people's comfort. I am better at listening and consoling and healing others than I am at addressing my own issues. It's the very avoidance part of my personality I am not proud of. I don't like dealing with personal issues straight on. I don't know how to be the person needing to talk and/or helped.

I talked about this in therapy once or twice. There was this one week when I felt sad, soon after my dad had a heart attack, and I was reluctant to tell my therapist about what was going on. During our whole session i was vague and less willing to talk about what i was feeling. When I finally got around to revealing how distraught I was over his hospitalization (followed by crying hysterically) we talked about my unwillingness to let people console me during times of stress. That it is normal to confide in people and be open about my issues to those willing (and wanting) to help. That shutting off isn't healthy. And while I know all of this, my hesitation to do so in the past and now more than ever, has a lot to do with me not wanting to burden people with my own pain.

I want to talk about Marie. I want to be honest and open about our relationship and what it feels like now that she is gone. I want to talk about the depression and the anxiety and the longing I have to be the girl I was before she died. I can't sleep with the lights off anymore. The silence and darkness terrify me. I'm eating a lot these days but losing weight like a parasite is coursing through my body. I'm more aggressive and cranky. Short tempered and unforgiving. And because i am unwilling to be emotionally available to people I've sort of been seeking comfort out physically.

I'm not whoring it out of course; but the truth is, if I would have had the 'experience' prior to her death, I'm not sure how healthy my relationship/boundaries with men would be (fuck, i hate admitting that). I feel so disconnected lately. From everything and everyone. While there was a time a few weeks ago where having anyone touch me caused severe stomach aches, it's been different these days. I crave intimacy because i feel it will distract me. Or remind me what it feels like to be a person and to be wanted. It has little to do with sex but more to do with that jolt of connection i need to remind myself that I exist even if for a moment.

And I have not acted on this. I would never act on this. But it's a part of the burden and mystery of my grief that I am not able to explain to people. How I've gone from being this girl before my best friend killed herself to the girl i am now. Because they are two different people (the was and am). There is no way around it. Everything i ever thought about love, life, happiness and my own depression have been altered by this experience and I don't even have anyone to talk to this about. And the few people in my everyday life who have offered comfort have no idea how to help me.

Kat tries. She's stepping up in the friend department. She is understanding and forgiving of my sullen ways. She invites me to do things and lets me talk about Marie when i want. But I don't want to crowd her life. She has friends from way back when and doesn't need me being clingy because I don't have many. Sean tries. But there isn't anything more he can do than embrace me. And be there if and when I decide to actually come to him. He asks if I'm okay when he sees me drifting away. He is present and all consuming. I like the idea of his strength. That he wants so badly to fix things. That he is frustrated by his inability to do so. But he has a girlfriend. He has a way of life. And despite our weird attraction and attachment to one another he has someone to take care of that isn't me.

I am suddenly faced with the real task of building relationships with people. Real healthy solid ones, because I know I would find great comfort in them. But I am a complicated girl these days and that seems a hard task to take on (though I'm trying). I am getting better however. I know that i won't be blue my whole life. And I know that I'll be able, maybe, one day to make peace with her death. But it isn't easy. Everything reminds me of her. I sit down to write and i realize I use to talk to her about my story ideas. I laugh and suddenly miss the sound of hers. I feel guilty for having to go on and smile and try to connect with people. There was a time where just having her as my friend was enough. I didn't care that I didn't have many other people to go to. I didn't care that I lacked a boyfriend or at least a warm body to fold into. She was my home. She was my comfort.

And i feel widowed by her loss because we were deeply connected due to our strangeness. I loved and some days hated her. She was my best friend and sometimes worst enemy but she was my mine; however complicated that friendship was. I have not been the easiest girl to handle lately. The sadness comes and goes so quickly that some days it is hard to breathe. But i am trying to rebuild my life now that she's gone. I am making plans and forming relationships (that are healthy and stable). I have a drunk scrabble tournament to attend tomorrow night (it's scrabble and drinking!) with co-workers. Angie (memba' her) is coming up from DC next week so we can hang out in the city all weekend. And Kat and I are going to Brooklyn in two weeks to watch an indie movie and stare at art.

My life continues to go on. Sometimes the grief stops me cold and I am consumed with fear and anxiety but i continue to get up and breathe and live. I continue to try and function like a real human being with hopes and dreams and desires,because one day, hopefully soon, I can feel like one again before life became so strange.

~Beckett