My dear friend committed suicide last weekend, and the way I am coping with it is completely taking a toll on me.

First, I didn’t believe it.  People were telling about it and yet it was all surreal to me.  The only thing that changed was I started having trouble sleeping.  

After a few days of not sleeping, I took a sleeping pill and slept 14 hours straight (making me an hour and a half late for work.  Thank God they understood.)  I still hadn’t cried, but I did spend the following day in a druggy haze. (Side note: I will never take sleeping pills again.)

The next step was anger.  Anger at him, others and myself.  Why didn’t he call me? Why didn’t anyone talk to him about what he was going through? Why hadn’t I called him more in the last month?

I still haven’t cried.  I’m scared I’m just going to break down in the middle of a meeting, or worse, while talking to a candidate.

The memorial is Tuesday, and I don’t know how to dress.  Or what the protocol is.  All I know is I miss him ridiculously.