grief laundry

There are some days that the whirlwind of emotions get stirred up, I feel like the grief I carry is worn like my clothing. Weird analogy, but it's the only thing in my closet that fits. It's an invisible outfit, I don't want people to see my tears, because by this time it's my own. I get tired of this gloomy outfit.
This morning, I was up at 4am, sitting in a dark, quiet world, doing grief laundry. Feeling certifiably insane, I tried to get back to sleep after dh went to work. Then I get a phone call from my bf and she tells me her mom passed away. Even though they were not as close, it's an obvious unexpected shock. Her sister is only 16 and was sleeping right next to her when she did not wake up. They only had each other.
I feel so bad that this happened. Here I am entralled in my own pity party about how I cannot seem to get on with my life and my friend has her own pain to deal with. There is nothing more real than suffering, it is only part of being alive and we cannot escape it. There is no hell, it is right here within our stages of suffering. Heaven, is found only when we go past the suffering and move on our strength.