Almost two years ago, a very good slightly more than friend/coworker, called me. He never called me before, we always had always used texts to communicate before. He thanked me for being a friend, scheduled a tentative date to go out and have a few beers with me and my husband, and said he would see me at work the next day. I pride myself on being empathetic, I pride myself on being smart. I KNEW something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I fell asleep with my phone in my hand at like 5am waiting for him to call me again and let me know he was ok. I never got the call, and he didn't show up for work the next day. His death rocked my world. I spent almost 8 months at the bottom of a bottle wallowing in self loathing for not noticing that he was saying good bye to me the night he called. I'm better now, not drinking nearly as much, not crying every night... Of course, I quit my job on the first anniversary of his death, it was too much to deal with.... Now I want to help. I live in a small town, no where near a suicide prevention hotline... or I would volunteer there. EVERY day I think of Mike. EVERY day I have to fight back the lump in my throat. I feel like I let him down. I want to be there for others... What do I do?