Shared Grief

I sometimes recognize that I am pretty selfish in my grief. I find myself being truly surprised that other people are grieving for Izzy. Really shocked.
Duffy and I were talking yesterday about Izzy and he said that he can't talk to me about her. I was blown away. He says it's his choice and that it has nothing to do with anything I have done or not done. I can't help but thinking that in part he doesn't talk to me about her because he doesn't want to make me sad. That makes me sad.
I know he's not much for opening up with the feelings. He's always been that way. But I always think that I have something to do with everything that happens. I know, selfish, but it's where my mind goes.
I was walking with 2 friends yesterday and I didn't mean for us to visit Izzy, but we did. And there were so many flowers there, I was amazed and shocked that there are other people out there thinking of my girl and taking care of her. They were beautiful. I forget that I'm not the only person who loved her. I forget that I'm not the only person who misses her. I forget that I'm not the only person who is mad and doesn't know what to do.
But on the flip side of that is that I am completely incapable of mustering up the energy to do anything about it. I feel like I should comfort them or talk to them and try to help them. Or give them a hug. I can't. It is requiring more and more energy to just hold it together. I don't have anything left.
I feel like Mad Eye Moody, Constant Vigilence. If I am not constantly making a conscious effort to keep the blackness at bay, it will swallow me whole. I know it will. It's there waiting for me when I sleep, when I'm tired, when I'm lost in a daydream and not paying attention. It gets especially crafty when I'm hormonal and then sneaks in not only dismay at living without Izzy, it throws in the whole "nobody loves you" routine.
I think I would rather be having the nightmares that Duffy wakes up with several times a night. "Better out than in, that's what I always say."