so sick of death and dying

Well church tonight was interesting to say the least. I was really really nervous about teaching the kids. But it actually wasn't too bad, except for that I didn't really know what was going on or where I was supposed to be or anything. Someone was working in the classroom we usually use and kicked me out. So I went into a different classroom, and before I was finished teaching some guy came and told me I needed to move out of there because he was supposed to be in that room. He was not very polite. So I moved of course. But I was very annoyed that everything seemed to be going wrong.
My sister was supposed to help me but disappeared right before service and I didn't see her again. I figured she had just decided she didn't want to help after all (flakiness is not unusual for her) and was sitting with my dad in service. It wasn't until after service that we all realized no one had seen her for about two and a half hours. So I looked everywhere for her and when I couldn't find her I started asking my parents and everyone else. And literally no one had seen her.
We found her of course, but by the time we did I was already in a state of panic (this was a ROUGH afternoon, and I was tired, and some other things had happened that I will elaborate on in a second) and I burst into tears.
What had ahppened is: this afternoon a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless/genderless) sent me a text that was basically suicidal. My first response was to just ignore it because this friend does this literally all of the time. They are the king of crying wolf and I always drop everything to help them. Well, I am tired of doing this, and I can't cater to this person all of the time. I especially thought this text was inconsiderate in the context of everything that has happened with my family this summer.
Of course being me I texted my friend back to make sure that they were safe. No response. I texted them four or five times throughout the afternoon and they didn't respond. I called them, and got their voicemail. And they didn't call back. By the time I got to church I was honestly paranoid that they had probably killed themselves (my friend has suggested/threatened this to me multiple times over the past few years). I was basically a basket case already, before the service had even started.
Then the kids. Then not being able to find my sister. Right around when she turned up I got a text from my friend saying, "Sorry. I am not right in the head today." I was happy my friend was okay but so mad for what this person had put me through. It wasn't like they said, "I need your help," or something. It was meant purely for attention. They got my attention. But they also nearly gave me a heart attack.
Even as I write this I am still freaking pissed. I can't believe anyone, having known what I have been through with my brother this summer, would manipulate me like that. Ask me for help, tell me what I can do, whatever. If I can help you I will drop everything to do it. But don't threaten suicide to get my attention. That is NOT a game. Especially for me.

After service I completely lost it in the parking lot in front of Jade. She tried to comfort me, and I did feel a little better for a while, but now I feel bad again. What happened with my friend today reminded me of everything from the night that daniel disappeared. It all came flooding back in like a second, and I still remember every single action like it happened last night instead of two months ago. I remember pacing back and forth in the kitchen and all the dumb things I said to Justin and Rachel, and the things I thought. I remember standing on the porch telling my grandma in the calmest voice ever that my brother was dead and that we should find someone for my sister to stay with that night, because my parents were in hysterics. I remember calling Jessica and Kathleen and every single thing that I said to them. I remember the voicemail I left for my brother when I didn't think I would ever see him again.
I even remember sitting in the car out in front of my house, taking a deep breath as I could see the police officer, and Justin and Rachel, and my parents crying in the front room. I remember thinking, "This is the last moment you have to be happy, because when you go inside they will tell you that your brother is dead, and everything will change." I remember just sitting there for about 30 seconds or so preparing myself for what I knew was coming. And then sprinting up the steps into the house. dropping my bag in the middle of the floor, looking at my dad, waiting for him to say it. He was crying way too hard to even speak. Rachel was kneeling next to my mother holding her hand. I held her hand, too. But I didn't cry. Rachel kept saying that everything would be okay, and I didn't say anything because I didn't believe her. The police officer tried to ask questions that my parents didn't know how to answer. I offered to help him, but he wouldn't ask me anything.
Justin showed me a notebook that had the note in it. It was a journal, one of those composition book ones, but it didn't look very full. He was reading the note and he asked me if I wanted to see it. I said no because I knew it would make me cry, and I didn't want to. I went into the office instead and looked for pictures of my brother to send to the police. Justin came back in and asked me how I was doing. I asked him if the note was "really bad". Because I was worried about my mom. He said that my brother was obviously very messed up and having some pretty dark thoughts.
Skip forward what seems like forever, I remember getting the call at about 10:20 where they said they had found my brother. No word yet on his condition. By that time my grandparents were there. All of us stood in a circle in the front room praying. I wasn't listening or standing still. The front door was open and the police officer was on his radio on the front porch. When I heard "he's ok" come over the radio I ran out onto the front porch. I can't remember if I spoke to the police officer or not. I burst into tears though. It was probably about 10:23 at this time, but it had felt like hours since we got the call saying they'd found him.
Right then my other grandparents pulled up. My grandma hugged me and I tried to tell her he was ok.
My sister came and I ran up and hugged her too and tried to sum up the story, but I couldn't calm down enough, and I don't think I made any sense. She just looked stunned. She cried a little.
Not long after that we looked up directions to the hospital where my brother was staying and drove all the way out to Tillamook to see him. They wouldn't let my sister and I in because Daniel didn't want to talk to us. They told us he still wanted to die and he only called the police by accident. Only my parents went in. Justin and I drove out to the motel where he had a room. We convinced the lady in the office to give us a key. Justin went into the room before me to make sure it was okay. We got all of my brother's stuff and went back to the hospital.
I will never forget the way that motel room looked. Thank god the police were there before us, because all of the really upsetting stuff was gone.
When we got back to the hospital they let us go see my brother. He was curled up in the fetal position on a bed and he started crying when we saw him. We told him we loved him and I showed him his cell phone. It was full of unchecked messages from when we couldn't find him. From us and all of his friends. I told him all of those people loved him, too, and were glad that he was safe. He just cried. He was really, really drunk.
It took us forever to get home and I slept on the way. We finally got to our house about 4:30 or 5 in the morning. My parents stayed with my brother until they moved him around 7 in the morning. I only slept about two hours, and as soon as we possibly could, we went to visit him at the new hospital.
I remember every second of that night in extreme detail, down to the sights, sounds and smells of the ER. And even a single memory of that night can confuse the crap outta me. I don't know why, because I have a hard time remembering anything from when Mike died, except lying motionless on my bed for hours and hours at a time, without thinking or saying anything. But I literally remember everything about this.

Okay. I didn't mean this post to be so long or personal but clearly I had to get all that out. I still don't feel any better though.