Crawling in a dark hole to die

Only last week did I wonder if my prescribed medications were numbing my pain too much. A pain that I believe I rightly deserve. A guilt that I believe rightly haunts me. I explained to my counselor how a part of me wants to come off of them so I can fully serve my sentence. My deserved sentence that I am serving because I did not save my son. I agreed I wouldn't because I understand I have people who rely upon me to put their needs before my own. Even if my need is to crawl in a dark hole and die.

Now, I lay in bed writing this post wondering if my medications aren't up to battle the tremendous pain I have. My pain has been so dark over the past few days that I can't even see the sunshine outside. On Saturday, I numbly walked through the grocery store, halfway smiling at my daughter, fighting my heavy wave of tears. Upon arriving home, I ask her to go inside and tell her that I just need a moment to collect myself. Once I no longer see her, I scream in my car. I scream and weep for my son. This pain is not decreasing. It is magnifying. Is it because my son was my soul mate and we never knew?

My complete and overwhelming sadness and guilt that has consumed me has now started to impede on my marriage. Tomes has been completely supportive and caring towards me while he also grieves the loss of his own son. However, the last few days have been different. There is no rush to give comfort and the affection I receive is minimal. Is this our normal? I have been so emotional that it is now a normal state for our relationship requiring no affection. While I yearn for him to hold me and cry collectively over the loss of our son, I also don't blame him. He must be so damn exhausted and want attention himself. He has been the one to hold our family together and if he breaks, we ALL break. Will he be able to keep me out of the dark hole of death that I feel so drawn too?

I write these extremely personal experiences knowing I will absolutely regret making it public. Until I can regain my state of privacy and pride I once had, perhaps my experience will hit home and create motivation to help us save lives.

Until next time...