Grief Begins After Losing My Only Child to Suicide
Read the entire post at My Forever Son, My Beloved Dylan : Suicide: It Never Lets Go
Dying Inside. Holding my breath. Pain on the inhale. Pain in the exhale. Sharp pierce of pain. Heart pain. Constant. Mighty. Rhythmic. The rhythm now of my life, my lifeblood stifled, plugged, narrowed, struggling, constricted by this undertow of grieving.
I’d like to think I’ve made “progress,” though in the end, I’m not sure what this even means. Progress towards what exactly? Learning to live again–altered, twisted beyond anything, anyone I recognize, more open, more raw, more vulnerable, deeply compassionate, growing accustomed to this constant rhythm of ebb and flow of grieving in my life?
It doesn’t go away. Suicide never goes away, never lets go, never the release, never the tapering down, never the stillness of an ocean calmed.
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