There was a igrl who was my best friend for years - all through school. She was the best looking girl, the most popular girl. She had everything and although I loved her to bits, I always wished I was her. She married the best looking and most popular boy in the year above us at school and had their first baby. We drifted apart at the time and apart from a few chance meetings didnt keep in touch as much as we should. In 2001 she had another baby, and sent me a card to say they were all doing fine and had moved and to give her a call. I didnt get around to it, although at the time I was expecting my first and her mum worked at my doc's so I always told her to say Hi. What I didn't realise was that she broke her pelvos whilst giving birth to her 2nd, and was in a wheelchair and on crutches for months, and had to have plates and pins inserted and several operations. In August 2001 she went to her parents house while they were away and took an overdose. My mum told me she had been on a brand of anti-depressants which were causing a lot of fuss amongst GP's because they can make you suicidal. I have never seen so many people at a funeral. She was the popular one, the one who had it all. I held it together until i got to the doors of the church and saw the flowers saying 'MUMMY' It haunts me to this day.
I find I can't talk to anyone face to face about this because it kills me everytime - but I just had to get it out there.