Sometimes I cannot believe I am almost through the second year of grieving the loss of my handsome, clever, funny, first born son, Matthew.
Throughout the first year I felt as if I was clinging onto the edge of my life, submerged in grief, my thoughts consumed with the awful truth and struggling on a daily basis. How could my beautiful son take his own life? He could not have known the devastation he would leave behind for his family.
I don’t know how I ploughed through the first year of dealing with complicated emotions, unanswered questions, disbelief, despair and a deep silent sadness. Grief seems to push everything out and there is no room for anything else.
The second year feels different. I know I have done a lot of healing, so much of my healing is connecting with other survivors in the Alliance, and although I have more healing to do, the pain is less severe. It frightened me so much when I knew I was not going to be as I was and it took a lot of time to define who I am.