I will admit that I have had two glasses of wine tonight prior to writing this.
I came in from rehearsal and - having spent the better part of my down time between work-allergy shots - rehearsal - in tears, I decided it was time to crack open a bottle of Katie's favorite Italian fizzy wine.

And crack it open I did.

However, having lost a bit of weight over the last 7 months (30 pounds and counting), I cannot hold my alcohol like I used too, and am now a little tipsy.
Oh well. Nor to worry - I have too much singing to do this month to abuse any alcohol. Tonight was extenuating circumstances: Katie's mom had asked for memories of Katie ... so, tonight, I wrote a reallllly long letter about her for her parents.

But earlier today...it was Fort Hood that sent me over the edge. I am already in a delicate balance of just making it through my day in one piece without bursting into tears...every unoccupied moment is consumed with memories of Katie and I am having a hard time breaking that cycle. Good for me, though, that I have my job, and three shows this fall to concentrate on. BUT Fort Hood. WHAT THE F*CK happened over there?? It just sent me into a tail-spin thinking of all the people I love and care about in the military, living and working on bases around the world and I just...it was the last straw on the camel's back of my holding-it-togetherness today.

In talking to a friend also realllllly affected by Katie's death....I admitted that I am not angry. I am not at that stage - I don't know if I ever will be. Mostly I still don't believe it. I saw her body laying there with my own eyes...saw the horrible color of lipstick they put on her (she would've complained) and yet? My mind DOES NOT GRASP the truth. And when it *starts* to grasp it - if I think about it too long - I burst into tears.
And then? The most irrational part of this... grief... is that I feel guilty!! Guilty that I was one of the last members of her "extended" family to see her alive, not her parents or sister. Also - stupidly enough, I feel guilty that we share a name - spelled differently - so that whenever I talk to her mom, she has to hear the same name. All of this is completely irrational and ridiculous, I KNOW...but it's still there, and I don't know what to do with it.

I ... I don't know. I don't know what to do. Counseling? More crying? Being really busy to the point that I just don't have time to think about anything (that'll work until Thanksgiving...we celebrated all major holidays together with our families)??? I am not sure yet. But it's always in these wee hours of the evening or morning that are the hardest.

(Lest I be all doom and gloom....there is still much to be thankful for:
Thankful for K's family and her two beautiful boys and wonderful husband.
Thankful for myself getting healthier.
Thankful for loved ones all over the world.
Thankful for being alive.)