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Still Be Loved

I stopped counseling. Not on purpose, but still, it happened. I haven't bothered to fix it. I just keep putting it off. 
I missed last month's Survivors of Suicide Support group. I can tell a difference when I don't attend, yet I still ask "are you going this month?" I don't want to go. No one WANTS to go to that kind of support group. 

I'm struggling to maintain friendships. I simply can't do it. I try to MAKE myself, but not only can I NOT do it, but it's not fair to the people I'm trying to maintain those friendships with. 

I cry almost every night in the shower, but I make sure my husband doesn't hear it. He thinks I should be better by now. 
TV shows trigger me. I didn't realize how much suicide is portrayed on tv. It's everywhere. It's glamorized. It's gut wrenching. There's truly no words to describe it. 

About once a month I think "I would rather die than live with this pain for the rest of my life." It's not suicide ideation, its trying to cope, learning to live with loss. There's a difference. 

Even TV shows portraying organ donations heighten my emotions and make my heart race. I received a letter several weeks ago listing which parts of Enzo's body were used. Again, there are no words for that kind of letter. 

I watch my kids on Life360 all the time. I watch them drive until they arrive at a destination. My entire body and soul can't move while they drive. 

These are the ways I've changed since my son took his life. These are the ways you change that no one, no group, or amount of time in counseling, can prepare you to face. It's the loss of their presence, the actual missing presence of your loved one that you can't live in or with. I must live AROUND it. 

For now, I'm not living. I just do what I have to until it's time to sleep... so I can do it all over again. It's monotone. I do things to get a quick rush of adrenaline to make me feel alive: shopping online, going outside, using a mild form of self harm, even scrolling thru pictures so I can feel that fucking awful stab of grief, loss, ache and a bit of anger when I look at pics of him. 

I hope I can move past it and still be loved while I struggle through it. Because this grief has also made me feel worthless. And I can't fix that. 

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