Asking and admitting

Last week I e-mailed and requested information...and a few days ago a medium sized envelop came addressed to me in the mail. My name printed, from a computer, neatly on a label, a sticker in the upper left hand corner with the exact amount of postage needed. This sticker mostlikely from a business postage meter, which saves time, and I use to work at a company that had a similiar machine. In the upper right hand corner, the return address. This envelope contains information about The Compassionate Friends. Its been nearly two years since Brian died, and I thought it was the right time to start figuring things out.
Inside the evenlope is tons of information, a form letter, signed by a worker (who emailed me back) and a hand written note indicating the local chapter leader and phone number, a few brochures, copy of their most recent newsletter, a copy of a supplement for siblings, grief fact sheets, and a few pages of material for other people in grief.
There is a special section devoted to sibling loss among all this material. A supplemental photocopied stapled handout, and an article in the magazine. I find comfort knowing that I am not really alone. While somedays I know that there are many siblings out in the world who have lost a brother or sister, there are many more days when I feel utterly alone. I feel alone in part because there is no one around me, in my circle of friends, who has experienced a loss of a sibling. While losing an Aunt/Uncle, Grandparent etc. may be difficult, and grief still unexpected and hard to deal with, it is not the same as sibling loss. I do not discount the heartache and loss people feel. Everyone grieves in his/her own way. But there is a connection between siblings that is completely different, a way of understanding each other, and their parents that no one else in the world understands. My brother and I remembered certain things about my parents that would make us laugh--only us.
Is asking for help truly a sign of admitting that you do need help? I've been telling myself that I should find someone to talk to about my grief, but kept putting it off. I knew that the morning I woke up on August 5, 2008 that I needed help (the day after my brother died) but its taken me two years to move forward into the realization that I need help. Better yet, I need to talk with other siblings, I need to be around people who understand the random crying, understand the need for quiet alone time, understand the worry for and about my parents, understand the laughter and the anger.