Letter to Brian: April 8, 2014

Dear Brian,

I’m going to be honest.  I’m a complete and utter disaster today.  I’ve been either sleeping or plowing through the remainder of season one of “Dexter” all day.  It seems when I’m not doing one of those things that I’m crying.  I don’t know what is the  worst, truthfully– crying so hard that I feel a pulsing behind each of my eyes and start to choke because I can’t breathe or avoiding the pain altogether by distracting myself with a blissfully unaware slumber or getting lost in the story of the life of a do-gooder serial killer if there ever was such a thing.

The documentary premier was last night and I was doing OK up until it was time to begin and I even made it all the way through feeling pretty darn great about the whole thing.  But after the adrenaline rush wore off I found myself alone with my thoughts and hardly slept at all last night.  Thoughts of you continued to rush through my head and I just couldn’t slow them down.  I didn’t expect last night to shred up my insides as much as it has.  It doesn’t make any sense, really.  I’d seen the documentary months ago before it was released to the public so I knew what to expect already.  But somehow the events of last night, while an amazing experience, seem to have brought me backwards in the grieving process, a bit.  I guess I shouldn’t say “backwards” because the road to healing is never a straight one… I know that sometimes I just lose ground.  I eventually get it back.

But even being surrounded by so many caring people last night, including my sweetie, Leashya, Marcy, Joe, Laura, Ann and Suzann, Caley, Laurie, Maria and Lauren, I find myself feeling more alone than ever.  I’m not doing well but I don’t ask for help because… well for the same reasons I’ve always struggled with that.  I don’t want to burden anyone.  I know this subject is very, very heavy and some people just need a break from it.  So in the midst of feeling so alone and helpless I’m finding myself wanting to hide away from everyone so they don’t have to see me like this because I’m trying to protect them.  And, being this needy, is…. well, still terribly embarrassing.  I need now more than ever to feel that I have a solid ground on which to stand and any time it feels the earth beneath me is starting to slip a little I tend to grab on too tightly and that just makes me look a fool.  I hate that losing you has made me so damn fearful that people will continue to leave me until I’m left completely alone.

I’m still so grateful for having been given the opportunity to share my story about you along with the other brave sisters.  I just didn’t expect it to take as much out of me as it has.

I have so much more to say but it’s all just not coming out right so I’m going to start up season two of Dexter and try to drown it out for another few hours.

I miss you so much it hurts, dude.


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I lost my brother Brian, my only sibling, to suicide on October 13, 2010. I write about dealing with the loss as well as my own life-long struggle with depression and suicidal ideation.

6 thoughts on “Letter to Brian: April 8, 2014”

  1. Laura, you don’t ever need to be afraid that you are burdening those who love you. I will gladly sit with you while you cry, or watch Dexter, or do whatever you need to do. Those who love you should have the courage to face your pain… just as you do every day. I love you.

  2. When can we here in Red Wing see the documentary?
    Looking forward to see it.
    Depression is a very lonely world amongst good and caring friends. I didn’t know they cared so much until my breakdown.

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