tragic good-byes

I can only seem to write this in story/anecdote format:
I saw my psychologist the other day and mentioned that because I'm a small Asian woman, I think it would be pretty hard for me to get addicted to alcohol because I just can't drink all that much overall anyways. Then he mentioned a woman named Sandy that I had made friends with at the psych ward. He said, "Do you remember Sandy? She could really drink." Yeah I remember her well; she was skinnier than me and not much taller but definitely could drink since she told me she was an alcoholic. She said she was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and started drinking young because she liked to party. She got married with a like-minded man but as they got older and had two children he stopped the partying but she didn't and now her family is so fed up with her behaviour that her husband was in the process of divorcing her and one of her kids didn't want to see her anymore. We became good friends while living in the ward together, playing alot of card games and walking together. I worried about her even in the ward since she was often on suicide watch which involves an orderly watching everything you do including sleep. She told me and it was obvious that she was going through a depressive episode. And then, after a visit from her children she was completely different. She smiled and laughed and said she felt so much better. The hospital released her soon after that and though we exchanged numbers, we didn't keep in touch. I figured she was busy adapting to the single life, looking after the kids and on the up-swing. As all these memories came up in my head I asked, "Oh yeah. How is she doing anyways? Haven't stayed in touch with her."
"She's dead. She committed suicide 8 months ago."
This sentence was a traumatic shock to the system, especially since I was expecting to hear mostly evasive small-talk. And then I wept. I know I only knew her for maybe two months tops as my psychologist pointed out when I got angry at how flippantly he told me of her death but I wept because it is such a tragic end for an individual who struggled with a lot. I wept over the doubly destructive power of both mental illness and addiction. I wept for her ex and especially her children who are still in grade school. It must have been so hard for them to watch, depend on and understand their unstable mom while growing up at the same time. I'm not sure what my psychologist's intention was in telling me about this, maybe scare me into behaving or some crap? "Death is always around. But we shouldn't let it take away from the life we have now." I know I know but I can't help feeling traumatized. She was a really kind and friendly woman and I really hoped she would get better. I can't believe she's gone too. And of course I'm reminded of my close friend who passed away in November. I met him at the psych ward too. He had ADHD and myriad addiction problems but again, a really nice guy. Having severe mental illness and addiction issues at the same time is looking pretty lethal and tortuous for everyone involved.