I've been feeling tremendous waves of guilt that my life is going so smoothly when my cousin felt so miserable he had to kill himself. I suppose this is the survivor's guilt they speak of. We both had shitty childhoods - his far worse than mine - and it's like two people in a car wreck, but only one survives. Why wasn't it me? I mean, I thought about suicide nearly constantly when I was a teenager.

I don't know if this makes me feel worse or better, but I found out that he'd started community college in the past few years, and was evidently trying to get his life back together. It's that much more of a tragedy if he was on the right track, but it also makes it that much more inexplicable.

It infuriates me that some family members apparently think I should be done grieving already, since he and I hadn't spoken in years. It's been 2 1/2 weeks since I found out. I'm angry at them for other reasons too, so this doesn't help.

I really, really, really want to smoke. I haven't had a cigarette in over 2.5 years. It won't make me feel any better, won't even blunt the feelings like alcohol does, but it seems like a giant FUCK YOU to rationality. Or something.

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