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October 12, 2020

The days between then and now…

69 days


The new year is beginning to show it’s going to be harder than Christmas without you. I think there was so much distraction with Christmas it came and went so quickly. Now the new year will be spent mostly alone and knowing it will be the first year you’ll never be a part of I’ve been a mess. A mess of a wife, mother and person overall. I’m falling into a depression that I know I’ve been in before. It just gets worse being a mom and feeding the same Pb&J with yogurt for days because you can’t be bothered to make dinner. I keep finding myself crying as my son cries instead of trying to find ways to comfort him. This new year is not a new me. I want to go back to a time you were here. I don’t know how to be someone with such a mental health past myself and be a mother and wife. I know I’m strong and I know I’ll be here tomorrow but I don’t know how I’ll ever get past this deep and desperate phase.



The number of days you’ve been officially gone. I’ve gained the phrase moving forward but I’m finding I’ve been falling back more and more. No one ever prepares you for a tragedy. That’s the fragile aspect of the pain. It’s not something you can prepare for or even truly teach others how to prepare because a tragedy affects each person differently with different ripples throughout their lives. Suicide is a tragedy and yet it happens everyday, in every country, every state, every city. Your mother or father’s pain is so greatly different than yours and yet here you are, crying on the kitchen floor as you try to cook dinner. You’re thrown to the ground by a wave of grief and while you want so desperately to scream you have something so fragile in the next room that does not deserve to carry this pain. So you weep into your hands and give yourself that moment before standing and pulling it all back together. Moving forward now means physically I’m moving forward, I’m making it to work and cleaning up, I’m cooking and smiling but I’m falling behind the line as some of the first waves of grief and numbing pain subside a new darkness is taking over.

231 days and my fight seems to have started again with the thought that you’re gone

Until the next count



It’s Father’s Day and I can’t imagine you’re not here to tell daddy that you love him. I’m drowning today in all the things you used to be and dreaming of what you should’ve been. I’m a mess but still need to hold it together for your own brother in law. He deserves to feel loved and appreciated today. The black hole just keeps getting bigger though and I’m finding it more and more difficult to crawl out each day.



There is so much more to the daily struggle with mental illness than the ones movies show you. It’s not constantly trying to kill yourself, self harm, self medicate or addicton. Although almost all of those happen frequently for those who are functionally walking among the “normal” (My therapist would be so mad at that word)

Everyday we sometimes unknowingly manipulate, lie, hide, apologize, get big, get small and I’ll say at this stage in my journey I’m learning it’s a bitch to become more aware of these things I do because of my past. Now I’m aware of my anxiety about loud noises. Now I can notice my desire to shrink in a room of people. This though means with time I can learn to work on those behaviors and understand why I do them to begin with.

All of this today. I’m finding with the medication I’m getting pockets of grief differently than I did before.



It’s been months since I’ve written about you.
But that is also a lie. I’ve written over and over but I’ve hidden them to try and save some people from the pain my perspective brings. I have 404 days since I started my therapy journey. Every Friday since then I sit with her and myself to learn about my past and present. I have seen how similar we were as we grew into people and our souls shined through. You’re gone and now so many, like I knew they would have lost interest in your memory being revived. Suicide took you from so many and while your hole is there its also filled with grass grown over. I have forgiven you. I’m no longer mad. Others disagree but I know you’re really better off. Without the desire to fight with medical help this was an end to such extreme pain. This was a quick and unplanned event that was triggered. We always do things in extremes and without question. We were the same. I do wish you could’ve seen this other side of this coin. Even now with knowing a bit more about why I have this disorder. It’s even more unclear about how to move forward. I experience my grief now but I know when the wave is coming and I allow it to consume me. I don’t fight it anymore. Grief is only present where there was once a true and fragile love. I say fragile because this wasn’t a love of a person you could just let go. Your anniversary is approaching and I’ve finally started my item of remembrance for you. I have learned my peace with what happened lets me keep you closer. I will always wish you decided to stay but that I know is even selfish. I know you’re happy and out of the pain and darkness. Until next time. I love you

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