Today Is Luke's Birthday

My brother, who was killed. Six years ago now. He would have been 33 today.

I don't feel like I can write about the reality of how I feel. I feel like I have to hide how I really feel and I hate it. No one wants to be around someone who can't move beyond something like this. The only story anyone wants to hear is the one where you go through hard times and triumph over them, come out the other side stronger and better. But that is just not the truth of what's gone on here, even though I try to pretend that (act as if) it is, every day.

This has totally destroyed the person I was. And I don't know what I'm left with. I get up every day and try, try to love all those in my life (and there are many wonderful people in my life...I get accused of being ungrateful of that fact, but truly I am not), try to be happy.

But the reality is I feel like I lost my life too, have from Day 1. I had a psychologist tell me once my brother and I, because we were so close were "fused," and because of that I have trouble seeing what happened to him as separate from what happened to me. That makes sense to me, makes sense of my strong, strong feelings that my life was taken away as well, feelings that persist to this day. 

I feel so alone. So outside the norm of what grief is supposed to look like. So lost, still. And I have no idea what to do to make it better.

XOXO