28 is the new 40

I didn't acknowledge it until this week, how hard this summer has been. I'd been holding up and holding up wondering what was wrong with me and wondering why I wasn't quite where I wanted to be or even if I knew where I wanted to be.
I broke down on Thursday/ Friday night, when Grace called and I had to explain everything that had happened over the last 12 weeks- beginning first with a huge transition from not being in school, graduating, the death of one of my best friends and then being rejected by someone else.
It would be so much easier if someone had told me what was wrong with me and then I could just fix it and deal with it. But no one tells you that. And no one can tell you that.
I couldn't I guess throw myself deep into the depths of sadness and depression because I didn't know what was wrong and I couldn't quite verbalize it. How can I possibly be sad when everything looks so fine and dandy? I have everything on the twenty something's guide to happiness: my own apartment, car, career, money, loving parents and friends. It just doesn't seem as if I have any justification to be this upset, this sad, and this dishevelled. People keep saying how strong I am, without realizing that I'm really about to fall apart.
I remember distinctly this line from Ally McBeal, when Ling (lisa liu) asks Ally why she was so bothered, upset and neurotic about her issues, trivial as they seem. Ally replies, "because they are mine". And I remember thinking to myself, how true. At every instance in life, I will always have to be me, and I will be the only one dealing with heartbreak, loss, sadness, happiness, friendship, love. No one else is there to be me. I got sick of being me this past two weeks. I got sick of dealing with the anger, the stress, the loss, the grief, the I'm supposed to be strong through all of this shit.
I think I went on for weeks thinking, ok, I've got to be strong and I've got to stop thinking about all this and I really don't have any reason to be this upset. But fuck, how can you stop thinking when the minute you tell yourself to stop thinking you start thinking about it? I've just been fighting fighting all these feelings- I don't want to feel them but I still did.
I know I said I didn't want to be angry at Eddie, but I am. I didn't want to cry at Tim's funeral but I did. I keep myself busy so I have a life, but I feel like I have none.
I don't even know if today's me is a facade of who I really am because I honestly don't know who I am. I'm working to keep myself from not falling apart. That's all I'm doing. And it's frickin hard as it is.