I am back – sadly and in necessity with gratitude

Wow, it has been several years since I have made an entry on OD.  In fact, I deleted my diary about a year ago, thinking I was no longer in need of this outlet and did not think I would ever write in here again.  I said goodbye to a few old OD friends, downloaded my diary, and hit delete. I got a lot of good, free therapy out of writing here, made some good friends, and believed any need to write to heal was no longer necessary.  However, in the past four months, personal tragedy has struck me in a way I thought only happened to other people.  I honestly believed my OD needs were satiated and life was moving in the right direction.
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However, the event that changed my life forever during the fall of 2011, is something I need to write about, and this is where I know I have an outlet.  I was grateful to find that my old Diary name has not been taken by someone else since I left.
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My precious baby sister suffered for many years from mental illness combined with teenage motherhood and an alcoholic husband.  We did not know until shortly before this fall that she more than likely had schizophrenia.  That diagnoses took many years and much anguish to come to.  She did not want to admit to anyone that she constantly heard voices telling her to take her own life.  She fought the voices, which she described as torment a week before the event occurred, since she was a small child.  She fought them the best she could, with the resources she had.  At least, she thought she did.  From an outsiders perspective, she did everything wrong, lying to doctors, abandoning medications, deceiving everyone any way she could.  But how can I judge her when I have not had voices screaming in my head to kill myself over and over and over.  She simply tried to survive and to love her husband, children, brother, sisters, parents, and friends.
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On a beautiful morning in early September, my beautiful, anguished sister let her dogs out, went to her husbands hunting room, loaded a rifle, propped it against her chest while sitting in a chair, and pulled the trigger, shooting herself in the heart and stopping the voices and torment forever.
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While I understand that she was suffering more than anyone could imagine, I have no idea what she actually went through.  I cannot be angry at her, and I cannot judge her.  I have anger towards others that sorely let her down, but deep down, I know it may not have mattered if things in her life were different.
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This is the kind of thing I never thought would happen to me.  Never.  It is the kind of event you hear about happening to others and you feel bad for them and grieve with them and all the while think in your head, thank God my family is o.k.  Well, my family is not o.k.  My sister was complex and unique and the years leading up to her death were filled with bizarre times, great times, sad times, joyous times, and worrisome times.  The intention of opening this diary back up is to write to work through my emotions and feelings during my mourning period.  I have grieved and mourned but what I am doing has not been sufficient.  Writing has always been my best outlet, and I have not done that yet for this horrible event.  However, I am now ready to write about it, and I hope I get at least a small measure of relief from my sorrowful existence.  
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I also look forward to catching up with old OD friends and making new ones.