Grief is a wondrous thing. You make it through one day with little to no tears…. but the next day hits you like a wrecking ball.
I’m laying here in bed. My chest is tight. I’m having palpitations, or ” Butterflies” as they are often to referred to, but they feel more like big giant moths – there is nothing light and fluttering about them.
Everything tonight seems to trigger a memory. The aching in my soul is low and deep, and I feel like I’m going to lose it. I don’t want to laugh. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to sit here, or lay here, or get up and move around the house. I want to quiet the voices in my head that feed me the memories that trigger the tears, and the missing of my son that I know I can’t do anything about.
It’s not yet been 4 weeks. It seems like it was only days ago. It feels like I just spoke to him on the phone. I can’t stop thinking about the last few minutes of that call. I can’t shake the ” what ifs” …. the ” if only’s”….or the ” I wish’s”. The voices are so loud tonight.
I think it’s a night for medication.
I miss my son so badly. Fuck you suicide. I don’t know if I am going to get through this.