vomit

I do not know what else to call this, except that. Ever since Saturday morning, I've had this nagging feeling in my stomach. And I'm pretty much vomitting everything that has happened since Friday night onto this computer screen.
On Friday night, Murad and I stayed up late. He was leaving for Kansas the next day to meet his daughter's teacher. He originally planned to leave Friday night, but I convinced him to stay with me. When I woke up the next morning to let the dogs out, I had a horrible feeling in my stomach. Like I needed to throw up, but couldn't. I attributed it to the massive amounts of coffee I drank the night before. I usually do not drink that much, but Murad and I were watching movies and chatting, so I wanted to be alert (he always teases me about falling asleep).
I was able to eat something, so I thought it was a passing thing. I then IMed my mom a little later about the shrug I decided I "had to have" and to see about my grandma's dogs. She couldn't talk because she and my grandma had just picked up their dogs from the vet. My mom said she would call me at night because she was going to follow my grandma back to her town. She said, "we can't get ahold of your cousin. we think he may have killed himself." Uhhh....the vomit feeling came back again. Without going into a lot of detail, my cousin lived with my grandmother and struggled with substance abuse and depression. He and I would go in and out of contact. Some months we would talk and text a lot and others we would not. We talked some over the summer, but only texted a few times in the last few months.
I told Murad and he asked if he should stay back. I told him, "no, it's probably nothing." and he said, "you know how your grandmother and mom exaggerate things." They do. But not this time.
I walked the dogs, took a shower and talked to my brother. I had an incoming call and when I saw my dad's name on the caller ID, I immediately knew. I frantically told Ryan I'd call him back and as I clicked over, I heard my dad crying into the phone. When my dad told me that my mom found him on the bed with the gun in his hand, I lost it. I kept it in until that point. I called Murad and, luckily he hadn't left the state of Texas, so he turned back around. I think all I did on Saturday was cry, ask a million questions and get angry. I felt so helpless and desperate. I felt horrible that Murad was consoling me, when noone could console or help my cousin. I kept trying to keep my mind preoccupied. I played on the internet, watched a ton of movies and for that time I could forget about it all, but when the movie was over, or when I could only read so many facebook profiles, the anger and sadness overwhelmed me. I stayed on the couch for about five hours straight, not because I was that depressed, but because everytime I stood up that sick feeling in my stomach returned. Despite, this I still planned to carry out my regular Sunday plans.
I think I got maybe three hours of sleep on Saturday night. I was on the phone most of the night and early morning with my parents. And on Sunday morning, things got worse. Luckily, I am in Texas, so I'm pretty far removed from all the drama going on. And while, I can't go into a lot of detail, there was a lot of family drama that day and it hasn't really ended. At that point, I felt so overwhelmed. I was trying to accommodate so many people. Murad had to step in and make decisions for me. I've never had that happen before, but I just needed someone in my corner to be like, "Ashlea, you need to do this. stop trying to make everyone happy." I was totally incapable of doing that and luckily he gave me the verbal bitch-slap I needed.
All day Sunday, I agonized over "why?" I just want to know what made him decide to do it that night. So many people have their own theories, and while they are all valid, it still doesn't answer all the questions. I know he was in a lot of pain, but not knowing how we could've been there to help him is killing us all. Even though he and I are only a year apart, I still think of him as my younger cousin and it doesn't seem right that he's not here. how does this happen? how did he get so low? I spent most of Sunday going through text messages and emails from him. I even perused a few suicide prevention websites, but none of them could tell me WHY?
Monday was okay for me. no stomachaches. I slept most of the morning because I had very little sleep Saturday and Sunday nights. Got all my stuff ready to go to Kansas. It was today when I woke up that the sick feeling came back. more family drama. and tomorrow....well, who knows what to expect. everyone in my family will be in one place. no more phone calls or texts....just face to face. I can only imagine how my stomach will feel. pray, if that's what you do...I just want to remember his life tomorrow, not just this one instance. He was a good person. He was so kind to everyone he knew and wanted someone to understand him. I hope that we can make it about him and not drama.