I think I have post-traumatic stress

Lately, people killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves, is all over t.v., or at least all over the few shows I watch, and frankly, it's making it really difficult for me to watch these shows. Not because the writing isn't good, or because of dis-interest, but because of the cold fear that creeps up my spine and settles into my bones every time the images pop on screen. The images stay with me all night as well, causing fitful sleep as I strive to wake from the horrific images that plague my dreams for many nights thereafter. It's my struggle, I suppose in dealing with my own insecurities and the guilt associated with Grant and Aubrey's deaths.

I am still so angry at them, I suppose, but I really don't know. My therapist said that they chose a long-term solution for a short term problem. Oh how, I wish someone had told them that when they were making their decisions to leave. My cousin made the comment once, that she was so angry because there are so many people striving to live in this world, so many people born with an illness, or who have come into bad health, and live each day fighting to live another day, yet they (Aubrey and Grant) they chose death, a finite end to what so many other people wanted. I still struggle to understand it, and at the same time fear that some day, I, like them will loose that instinct of self preservation. It seems so inhuman. And so unreal, but once people close to you choose that path, it makes you doubt yourself, and wonder if you'd be capable of going down that same road.

I hope not, I'd rather fight for what's mine to have. For what's mine to experience, and I'd want to choose to live for Emily and Tony who died such tragic deaths at so young a time. I'd choose to live for those two people who were just blossoming into new people, when life dealt them a cruel blow, and cheated families of a brother and sister, a father, a son and daughter, etc. It seemed so unfair. And yet, I still live with the sadness, and the anger, but mostly the fear.

The fear of being so afraid of the consequences, that I'm afraid to take big risks and chances in life. The fear of not ever becoming who I'm really supposed to be, because I'm afraid of what that would do to me, of whom I would become, and of how drastically my life would change. But also, there's that fear of living life without taking those risks, and cheating myself of a once-in-a-life-time adventure of Life.

I still lay in bed at night, and sometimes hear their laugh, or voice, and see a memory clear as day. And for a moment everything is peaceful, and life is as it should be, and those events of the past are nothing but a horrible dream. But then the dream beaks and I'm saddened, and anger causes me to push the memory aside. I go outside and turn my face towards the warm sun, and remember all the light in the world. I let the sun hug me with her rays, and remind me of all that's good in life, and am happy again, for that moment, in that day.