Suicide loss is a complicated grief. Those who havnt gone through it will never understand it. Hell, I don’t think we understand it ourselves. I don’t know how we are supposed to survive it. I often don’t want to survive it.
When people say, ” Sam wouldn’t want you to be so sad. He would want you to be happy” . I feel like saying the only thing that will make me truly happy again, is seeing my son. And to do that, I would have to die. That’s my dilemma. I don’t say that out loud: but I feel it.
We live in a state of guilt, for any thing we ever said out of anger; For anytime we had to discipline them. We also live in a state of guilt for not being the parents we were before they died to our surviving children. Its not fair to them: how broken we are. They lost their sibling and in many ways, for my children anyway: they lost their mother as well. I’m not who I once was. I’m sure that they know I don’t want to be here anymore. And that’s just fucked. It’s not that they aren’t enough , it’s that my heart is so shattered that I feel it break every day.
We live in a pergatory of what if’s and if only’s.
It’s fucked up. And I miss my son.
For the Love of Sam 
I understand the pain minus lossing a child. The pain will take it’s sweet time and I think it’s longer beacuse it’s suicide. It too me 7 years to grieve my faher. If it’s only that you got out of bed that day, try to be gratedul for the smallest of things. It onknowingly gives your brain a shot of sunshine. Hugs.
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Thank you so much.
I miss my old life so much. But, I miss my son even more than that. Although it gets softer to carry, it just never goes away.
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