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The Trauma is Real

I know, it's been awhile since my last blog. I've been in such despair that even blogging about my trauma was unreachable for me.

It's been hard. Extremely hard. While the days and months go by since I've lost my beautiful son, the pain doesn't start to get easier. It actually starts to manifest into something even more frightening. The thought that I'll forget pressure memories of him as new ones are made. That I'll forget his deep voice when he simply would say "hi mom". That I'll forget his deep toned laugh or even the way he'd smell. I try my best to secure his belongings in containers that will allow his scent to live on, but we know with time, scents start to disapatate into the air.

I have been able to identify that while I'm busy with work and colleagues, I can put a mask on. A mask that allows me to bury myself to keep from feeling the pain and realizing my beautiful Alex isn't here.

But, on the weekends or when I'm around family, I'm incredibly sad. Even during weeknights after work. I can't help to wait for Alex to arrive. It's so incredibly painful and traumatic to spend time with family without Alex there. Some find relief during their grief to be with family, like my husband does, but for me, I associate it with my trauma. All I want to do, which my husband continually works to pull me from is lay in bed with my curtains drawn holding my son's clothes.

Any changes in my life feel like I'm leaving Alex and becoming further away from him. I'm incredibly conflicted in this space. I don't want to even vacation this summer or even simply progress without my Alex.

Today, we are spending time with family in the snow. A day to be honest I'm not looking forward too. Again, I know I must but thinking of making memories without Alex truly, truly stabs me in the heart.

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Keep writing… for now let that be your outlet. 💗

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