My nephew took his own life yesterday.

[femmedem]

117. Please take it one breath at a time.

You might feel as if you don't know how to survive this much pain, but you are surviving it right now, at its very worst. You take a breath. You take another. The breaths do get easier. I promise that they get easier.

When I was suffering this kind of grief, I didn't want to actively kill myself, but neither did I want to move forward with my life. I didn't eat for a month, until on Thanksgiving morning my landlords tentatively knocked on my door and offered me some of their meal. I ate and I sobbed and I knew that I would keep living.

It felt surreal for months, for nearly a year. I felt as if there was something murky and thick between everyone else and me. But there were people who stepped forward because they'd suffered something similar. They gave me a road map and understanding. This is why some people who've been there are recommending talking to a bereavement counselor or joining a group, especially if you don't have close local friends to talk to who would understand.

As you are seeing, there is a big, big club of people who have suffered this kind of loss. We climb out of it, and when we're out, we are there for others.

The person I lost was my fiance. I didn't date for a few years, but now I've been happy with Mr. Femmedem for twenty. I'll always wish that the person I lost had survived. But you are still here, as I am. And you will be ok--for moments, at first, then hours, then days and months and years. And don't ever feel guilty about it. Brandon didn't ever intend for you or anyone else to suffer because of him. He had just fallen into a place where he didn't realize how much he meant to people like you.