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I am so sorry for your loss and for how your life must feel like it's falling apart, along with your health.
It's a LOT to deal with and it's good you'll be seeing a psychiatrist. It is possible that medication may help and s/he'll be able to help with that. But, generally, psychiatrists don't do therapy and I encourage you to get yourself back in to regular individual and group therapy. And go every opportunity you have. If finances are difficult, focus on the free group therapies and/or individual therapy via any of the armed services or through your church.
I know you had groups and therapy before but you may not have been ready for it and, either way, since then a lot more has happened that you need help figuring out how to deal with.
Your Nick loved you, that's clear from the relationship you describe, and he wouldn't want you to be hurting so much after all this time
Get the help you need and deserve. For yourself and for your daughter who still needs you. *gentlehugs*
However, now I do. It has only been recently (about six months) that I have come out of my fog and have begun to re-enter the world. Finding joy is not easy. Some find it in religion. Some find it in a bottle. I have two things that make me happy now, and though they may not sound very therapeutic, they have helped me more than anything anyone has suggested or prescribed.
First, every morning, without fail, I get up and walk. I walk my neighborhood or if the weather is bad, I walk on the treadmill. It sounds like you had mobility issues, but if you can walk now, do so and do it every day. I put a small TV on the wall in front of my treadmill and watch programs from the History Channel and National Geographic. That makes the time go faster. But more importantly, I am getting exercise and exercise, more than any drug they tried on me, has helped with my depression.
The other thing I am doing is art. I'm not a particularly good artist, but after my son died, I saw the world differently. Not necessarily in a good way either, but very, very differently. Colors seemed faded. Sunny days were not so sunny (and I live at the beach). The sky was not as blue, and even my face seemed pale. It was a like a layer of dust covered everything in my life. Until I was watching/not really watching the Create Channel and saw someone doing collages. I thought I would try it. And I am hooked. I do Art Cards ( just Google them to learn as it would take too long to explain here) and other forms of mixed media. Now, everyday, I am out of bed early, getting my chores completed, and all the while I am thinking of what kind of art I can do today. I look at the world as my pallet, each item in it as something I can use in my art. I spend hours on end scouring the thrift shops and junk stores (beach areas are full of them) for stuff to amend or to use in a particular project. Art gives me something to think about when I'm pushing the vacuum or loading the dishwasher, instead of thinking of my dead child. Art has put color back into my life. It is cheap for me, but if you have the money you can buy lessons. I have artistic friends now, and it is true that you lose some friendship when your child dies, while others grow stronger. But having new friends who have this similar interest has helped me move beyond the constant state of grief I was in.
Every day, several time a day, I think of my son. But now I have moments when I do not think of him because I am occupied with good thoughts. Some of these I must admit are pangs of guilt that I am enjoying something and he is not. But I get past them, and instead think of the joys that were in his life before he died.
I see him in all the sunsets and sunrises. He is in everything in nature that I want to put into my art. I emotionally dedicate all my little pieces to him, and I smile when I think about how he would have stood behind me and ooohhed and aaahhed at my little art works. He was a good child and a good man at 26, but he is gone and I am here, and it is the same with you as it is with millions of other mothers through the years.
My heart bleeds for you and all of us that have had to endure this most horrific tragedy. It is wrong for a mother to bury a child. I am not religious, and to be perfectly honest, I was not spiritual until he died. Now I feel him near me, as he is in fact still in my heart and most always in my thoughts. But with my new ways of coping, the exercise and the art, I have learned that I am not going to die because of this, but rather continue with my life until whatever fate has in store for me takes me to where he is, either somewhere or nowhere.
I hope what I have written has helped you.
I am so sorry for your loss. After reading about your son I wanted to say that you did a great job as a Mom. He sounds like a great guy and he didn't do it alone. Much of who he was came from you. Use his strength .
You have a lot going on physically and it can take a lot out of you. Try to be good to yourself. You are not alone.
Jan
One thing that helped me was learning to celebrate his life, rather than dwell on his death. And my faith has helped tremendously. While I have had my rages at God, I have reached a point now where I know he is not coming home and that there is nothing I can do about it. I started a journal of letters I wrote to him soon after his death. Just little things I wanted to say to him that. That helped. I started a blog and wrote about him, and still do, and this helps. When you dream of him, how does he appear in your dreams? Whenever I dream of my son now, he is always smiling. I don't know what that means, but it gives me comfort somehow.
When I learned of his death, my first thought also was why didn't God take me instead? I don't have that answer. My eldest son also suffers from a lot of issues with grief. What doesn't help at all is "what if's" and "should have's". Think about how your son lived his life and how he would want you to live your life now. I imagine he would want you to go on and find some measure of happiness. It will never be the same, there will always be a missing place that was filled by your son, but you must find a way to work around it. If not for yourself, then for your daughter.
God bless you and your family, and I sincerely hope that you can eventually accept and come to terms with this terrible loss. I'm still working on it.
I just joined this community and your post touched me right away. I am a retired psychologist with 25 years experience helping individuals and families heal from grief and loss. I would urge you to join a support group for Army Moms if possible, but any grief support group will help. Acquire some good reading materials for those private times you need to reflect on your loss. Seek out a professional counselor if you feel you can't function at all. These are minimum requirements for your grief recovery. I see the recent holidays have been tough, that's pretty normal. That's why group support helps take the sting out. Start with a few basic resources, then add and delete as you move along. You can heal from this and you will. What would your son want you to do for yourself? Start with that.
Weeks before he suicided, he talked with me about starting a business together. He ate sensibly and exercised regularly - he wanted to have a lean body -- you know, a six-pack stomach. My son the Marine. He wanted to give me grandbabies. He was talking about the future. Six weeks later he was dead. The memories, I'm told, haunted him.
PTSD is difficult to deal with and especially overseas where help is limited and you're expected to "suck it up". I pray that your son didn't experience what my son went through. I felt so helpless.
These young men who come home are very messed up. At the time of my son's death in Feb. of 2007, 38% of returning troops attempted or completed suicide.
I'm telling you the gravity of my situation so that you know I understand. Believe me, I wake up in the middle of the night screaming.
But there have been two things that have really helped me out: 1) I had obtained my son's MySpace password and slightly changed the site to reflect a tribute page. I write stories about my son, and ask that others share stories too. This keeps me focused and I am doing something positive to keep my son's memory alive. I have received many emails and other Marines have shared stories of my son during a time when we were apart. I've learned so much about him and I'm very proud of him. 2) I pray, and I pray, and I pray. And I have regular conversations with my son. And sometimes he's there. I know that sounds a little weird, but I remember having lunch with my eldest son -- telling him about my latest discussion and how things were coming true. He rolled his eyes, then says, "let's test it". So I shared what I wanted and within two days (and a week after my son's 1 year anniversary), I met up with a family I hadn't seen in 13 years, who moved out of the area (and I've moved twice since that time as well). Impossible is the word. But here they are, in my life and my eldest son went from a non-believer to a true believer.
What I'm trying to say is...he's still here. Whether it be in your heart, or his MySpace page, or in little miracles. He's blessed to have such a caring mom. He's blessed to be so loved. And I bet he knows it and I bet he wants you to be okay and not hurt. Think about it. He warned you of what could happen -- he cared and he loved you too.
Talk to your son....keep his memory alive and let others help you in doing so.
Oh, well I could go on forever, you know how that is. I wish I could have given you the answer you need, but I don't think there is one. I have begged God a million times to take me and bring him back. I have ask God why. I have ask him to just whisper the answer to me and I wouldn't tell anyone that he personally told me. I have tried to sell my soul to the devil to bring him back. So far he isnt here, that doesnt mean I wont quit trying. I couldnt tell you how many ways I've thought of suicide. I do know exactly how I would do it if I ever get to that point. Reply back any time want to talk or exchange son stories, Im always open to talk to another person who understands what I feel. J.
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