Okay, so now this was several pages ago, but a sincere thanks to everyone for the condolences re: my grandmother's suicide.
It was a sad, crazy weekend: my parents picked my boyfriend and I up Thursday night, and we got into the Sacramento area at about 5 a.m. We spent the weekend with my grandfather and neighbors, supporting each other through the first throes of the grieving process. It was bizarre to be in the house where she did it, to walk through every room but one (which we all wordlessly avoided).
Now that I'm no longer constantly on the verge of sobbing, I've become worried about depression. My mother, brother, and father--my entire immediate family--all have diagnosed bipolar disorder; there have been two suicide-attempt hospitalizations (my mother and my uncle) in my family in the past two years; and now there's this. I feel like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop, as though it's not a matter of if I will begin suffering from clinical depression but when.
Today, I started back at work and school. I knew that this afternoon would be the first more-than-fifteen-minute period I've spent alone since I heard about her death, so I decided to check out the gym at school because exercise is really good at keeping me from giving into depressive thoughts. It felt really good.
So the silver lining to this cloud is that I think it's going to encourage me to get back into shape.