"You can call me anytime, even 3 o' clock in the morning..."

In my time of grief, I've had so many people show support in various ways, especially in the months immediately following my daughter's tragedy.

Some people couldn't reach out at all, some reached out only a little, and some reached out a lot. Some made offers that they couldn't keep or that I couldn't accept. Overall, I learned that people mean well, they really do.

It's just very difficult to find the right person to turn to in moments of extreme grief. And those moments can happen anyplace, anytime. It's hard to know what we need ...words? action? ....and who can provide us with what we need.

I've had some very kind people say "Call me anytime--even at 3 o clock in the morning." And I know that if I did, they would answer and they would listen. But when you're in the deepest darkest of places, you don't want to call anyone. You don't want to "spread the illness" so to speak. Frankly, some of the thoughts are shocking, upsetting, and I just don't want to say them out loud.

Also, it's hard to find someone that you feel comfortable sharing certain thoughts with when you're feeling so utterly wounded and vulnerable. You fear being judged or being let down.

If you pick someone close to you, it can be tricky. Perhaps they are still grieving too and you don't want to burden them any further. Or you just don't want to repeat yourself for the one thousandth time.

But who else is there? You need someone who is close enough to you to have a true understanding of what you are going through. You can't just start talking to the person in line next to you at the grocery store.

Yes, there's counseling and it does help. But those are typically scheduled appointments and not the people you can turn to with the middle-of-the-night desperate cries.

I received a lot of comfort from people I met who had lost a child, also. It does help to talk to someone who has been through it. But they were people I met after my daughter died so they weren't close enough for me to feel 100% comfortable with.

I feel I have to be so careful and polite around certain people...with everyone, really. What if they think I'm weird? What if they have different religious beliefs? What if they're going through their own personal battle and aren't in a place to show me the support I need? It's hard to just let go and just let it all out.

The problem with grieving is that it is so extreme and it is so unpredictable that it is really hard to properly share those volatile emotions, whether it's in an attempt to get support or just convey information. You don't want to upset people or push them away, either.

It's difficult to maintain relationships of any kind after such a loss. The experts say that when a child dies, the grieving parents are changed forever. Not many people want to accept that. I certainly don't want to accept it, and I have found that many of the people in my life don't, either.

It's only natural that we yearn for things to stay the same, especially when our world is rocked by the death of a child. However, the opposite happens, and almost everything changes. When you think about it, how could it not?

I recall in the early stages of grief I wanted to cut my long hair really short and I had thoughts of just running away. "I don't want to be this person." I would say.

It's not that I wanted to leave my friends and family behind, but I felt that my old life had betrayed me and I wanted to essentially be a different person. I didn't want to endure all that overwhelming pain anymore.

I didn't cut my hair and I didn't run away. I could never leave my young daughter behind. No way, she's my reason for going forward. And I couldn't inflict any more pain on the people who were still grieving my deceased daughter. They had already lost enough.

Unfortunately, however, I have changed somewhat. And some of my relationships have changed, too. Now I am seeing others around me go through changes, too.

It is heartbreaking. But I guess it is inevitable. As I said before, how could we not change after such a sudden and traumatic loss?

So, people will come and go throughout our grieving process. But they won't always be available or capable to give us all we need. It helps to learn to comfort and heal ourselves. And I think we need to have faith. It may be the faith that we find in religion or it may be the faith that we find in mankind. But most importantly, faith in the strength of our own spirit.