I recently prayed asking God to make me more dependent on Him. He’s faithful to answer…
Hard conversation today. How does someone say the things they do even after I tell them my son killed himself? Shut up already! I almost had a full meltdown after that phone call. Robbie is loving and patient. He’s learning – we’re both learning – how to handle the sudden onset of physical shaking, scattered thinking, and incomplete sentences. The rubbing of my leg or hand. All tell tale signs of being tossed back into trauma. “It’s moments like this that I don’t believe I’ll ever be normal again. And based on that belief I conclude it’s best to just isolate. To self protect.” I know that’s not really true. But I’m so fuckin sick of being “that person.” An unexpected conversation with an old friend got me out of my head and brought me back to the here and now – for a little while anyway. Coming up on six years and I still get triggered? Will there ever come a day when I’ll be normal again?
How did I get here? I miss my boy. I miss his physical presence. I want to touch him, to hug him. I just want to be near him.
I made it through the day in one piece. Thank You God for loving me. For reminding me I MUST take time with You every morning. I’m too vulnerable, too exposed, without my spiritual armor.
Laying quietly at night staring into the dark with eyes shut tight I scream in my head: NO NO NO! I try to push the thoughts out of my mind. “La la la la la. I’m not thinking of this. No, I’m not doing this. I won’t. Just think about anything else.” I give up and turn the light back on and read myself to sleep.