Msida, although I have no religion, I too felt that I should also be dead. I felt incomplete, a lost fragment of a person, mortally wounded - yet appearing OK and coping from the outside.
I had a lot of sympathy and support at first (when I was feeling pretty numb and didn't need it), then, yes, life moves on and it really hit me after about nine months.
By then, everyone was off doing their own stuff, assuming I'd coped with it. A library book about the stages of grief really helped me. I was reassured that my feelings were quite normal.
I threw myself into study, a degree course that I'd never have done, normally. It was a challenge, a fresh new focus - and it brought a welcome group of new friends with it.
My whole identity had changed (or was changing) and they had no expectations that I'd remain the same 'old me'. I found their company so refreshing and much easier than being with family and old friends at that time.
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