This struggle is so much more bizarre than I can ever accurately describe. At some moments, it feels so overwhelming, like life can never possibly be the same as it was before. It feels like I know something horrible about humanity, like a profound disillusionment, not because of what happened with my friends so much as because of they way people respond to it.

Everyone out there seems in a rush to devour the story and pronounce their opinion on it. I have had so many people tell me their opinions about it, analyzing it like they know anything at all about her when they never spent a single second around her. "I don't buy into the insanity defense for anyone. It's a total crock." Really? Well, WTF do you know? No one EVER thinks this kind of thing can happen with their friends, and she was the last person I would have ever believed could end up in this situation, and she still is. People say she didn't talk to her neighbors much like that means anything. I almost never talk to my neighbors. Even brain surgeons have huge gaps in their knowledge of the human brain, so you'll excuse me if I don't take the laymans opinion to heart.

Sometimes it's totally unreal like it didn't even happen. I wonder if it's the minds way of keeping you from going down with the tragedy? It's like I get a break sometimes, times when it doesn't impose too much on my consciousness. Part of that is because I've been keeping myself busy with school and work. It's hard to know how to go about the grieving process. It feels like we should all be sequestered off somewhere, together, and just give in to the agony and the confusion. Like how can I go about my normal life when this has happened? How can any of us just keep on going like the world is still what it was a month ago? But even when I try to focus on it and acknowledge my feelings, I can't sustain it forever or it feels like I'm going to lose my mind.

I finally got some sleeping pills, so I've been able to sleep without the tortuous nightmares. It's helping a lot, the headaches have gone away, I'm less bitchy than I was, and I feel almost normal sometimes. For the most part, everyone is being very patient and supportive, and I feel like I am on the right path for going on with my life, but even in that I feel guilty. How do you compromise between grieving appropriately and not sacrificing yourself in the process?

I crave people more than I ever have before. If anyone out there wants to visit me, now is really the opportune moment.