Time to Grieve?

Maybe I AM really being selfish, or short sighted. I am not really sure.
I am feeling very distressed that I am not afforded the time or space to grieve the loss of my partner, my friend, my mate.
I guess we had a well laid out plan on how our relationship was going to end. A plan that would make it easier on both of us, but also a plan that would allow us to remain friends.
As most well laid plans they went sideways with the introduction of the Christine dynamic.
Elizabeth was left feeling overwhelmed and like a stranger in her own home. Seeing the pain inside her ripped my soul to pieces, but I felt the need to guard my own well being. I took a stand of indifference.
My sister has moved in and taken over. Has forced Elizabeth from her home and has driven a wedge between us. I don't think our friendship will ever recover.
This is the time I was hoping to take to decompress and really explore ME without the bindings of a relationship. This was to be the summer to explore Ken (I even had a partner in crime!)
I am finding my sisters presence to be over bearing. To be crushing me emotionaly and sucking the life out of me.
I just want to yell "shut the fuck up!" or "leave me the fuck alone", but I am more than that. I am stronger than that. I know my sister means the best and is going through her own turmoil. I know I need to be strong for her and Liam.
I just wonder if I have that strength in me.
The nightmares are back.
They are back in a big way.
I am not getting more that 3-4 hours of sleep a night. I dread going to bed. I resent my bed. I hate myself for my weakness.
I am tired. Tired down to my soul. Tired in my bones. I don't know that I have any more to give.
I miss having someone like Angel in my life who knows what it means when I hop on my bike and just "go". Someone who knows what I'm running from. What it is I am trying to prevent (or cause I guess).
I spent Saturday morning watching night turn in to day, wondering if it was actually possible to die from the pain inside me. Maybe hoping that it was.
I hate having to be KEN. Hate having to be the stong one all the time. I would give all that I have so that I could allow myslef the luxury of tears.
Instead I walk around with that all too familiar knot in my gut. The powder keg of rage that can never see the light of day.
The scary thing is... that powder keg is getting closer and closer to the surface. I am too weak to to push it back down right now, and I could never allow it to come to the surface. The only other real choice to to turn it inward again. I walk around ready to snap. To explode.
Yesterday I punched some wood I had in the back yard. Broke it. THAT felt good.
THAT is scary to me. I am not that person.
I am grounded. I am happy. I know who I am. I care for others.

But I am not that right now. The blows keep coming. They come too quickly for me to recover. Instead of standing and taking them I feel like I am in an emotional fetal posistion, feeling the blows land but I am unable to fend them off.
I think I need to get away.
I need to hike in to the interior of Algonquin, or ride until I no longer see people. I need to go somewhere and be anyone but me. Me doesn't seem to be working right now.

I went to bed last night hoping to die in my sleep.

I woke up this morning pissed that I hadn't.