He used to be little.
Now he is big.

HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY CONNOR.

Love you tons and tons.

It's always been the same apple orchard, the same apple cider donuts, the same tractor ride out to the trees that are ready to be picked and the same fresh apple cider.

And it's ALWAYS been the four of us.

Until this year.

This year it was just the three of us.

And although Connor made us smile climbing every tree in sight and melted my heart with his gorgeous smile, it just didn't feel the same.

Learning to make "new" memories when a piece of the memory puzzle is missing, is really hard.

A lot harder than I could have ever imagined.

I get asked all the time how I’m doing. Or some variation of that.

How are you feeling? Feeling any better? Is today a better day than yesterday? Etc, etc, etc.

Figured it might just be easier to answer those types of questions in one place.

Because the answer is the same to all of them.

I’m awful. As awful as I’ve ever been. As awful as I suspect I will ever be.

I spend so much time trying not to be but it’s not working.

I’m sad to a degree that I don’t think words can describe.

I’m beyond heartbroken. On some level, it feels like I don’t have a heart anymore. Like there’s a dark void where my heart used to be.

I’m surrounded by friends and family a lot of the time, yet I am more alone than at any time in my life.

When I’m not crying outwardly, I’m crying inwardly.

I’m wracked with guilt even though people say I shouldn’t be.

I feel like I’m living in limbo. Like I’m damned to live in a perpetual state of misery. Like I’m being punished for something I did. Something I said. Some bad choice I made at some point in my life.

I’m unable to remember simple things, things I never had a hard time remembering before.

At times, I’m paralyzed with fear. Fear that I will make a bad choice, a bad comment, a bad gesture.

I’m truly terrified that if THAT could happen without me even seeing that IT was coming, then WHAT’S NEXT?

I’m crushed.

I’m destroyed.

I’m a miserable fraction of what I used to be.

And I’m a liar.

Cuz if you ask me HOW I’M DOING, HOW I’M FEELING or if TODAY IS BETTER THAN YESTERDAY….

I’m going to say I’M FINE.

It’s just easier that way.

Purposely left for work AFTER both John and Connor had left the house so that I could be alone for a moment.

Wanted more than anything, to see CJ.

Sat there with my head bowed down, hoping that he would come.

He didn’t.

No big surprise.

Can’t tell you how much I want to see him again.

Been replaying in my head those last moments in the hospital when we had to say goodbye to him. Those last moments when we could still touch him. And feel him. And SEE him.

So unbelievably pissed at myself that I didn’t demand to stay with him longer. I KNOW that he was gone. And I KNOW they needed to do things to his body to prepare him for organ donation.

But I HATE that I didn’t insist on staying through all that.

What kind of mom am I?

Hating days. Hating nights. Hating, hating, hating.

Discovered that you don’t really have to have tears roll down your face to feel like you’re crying. I HAVE tears rolling down my face most of the time. But not always. Sometimes, my chest simply feels like I’m sobbing. Like it’s locked up tight in a sad vice grip.

Hate that feeling.

Trying like hell to function. Feeling utter despair most of the time.

Feeling more alone than ever.

Never truly knew how much his light brightened my day.

Worried that I’m not enough for John and Connor anymore. How can a shell be enough?

Connor’s birthday is two weeks from today. What if it’s not special enough? What if I fail him? What if he doesn’t know how much I love him?

Maybe CJ didn’t know that either.

God this is hard.

I want what no one can give me. That's a tough thing to accept.

I cry with no warning. I can literally be smiling one second and weeping the next.

I have never felt so lost in my entire life.

I told a very close friend of mine that suicide stole "normal" from me. Permanently.

I truly believe that.

I continue to piss people off. Still not acting the way they believe I should. Think I might actually start asking these people to de-friend me on FB or un-follow me on here. Cuz although I KNOW I shouldn't care what people think about me right now, it still hurts to open emails and read that they are upset I'm not reaching out to them. That I'm not responding to them as they've asked. That I'm disappointing them because they believe they can help me.

Yep, reading that stuff hurts. And causes me more anxiety and sadness than I already have.

Someday, when I can actually type five words without crying, I just might try to write the BOOK OF RULES for parents of children who blew their brains out.

Cuz obviously, I missed reading it.

It's only September and I'm already dreading the holidays. All of them.

Dawned on me today that I will NEVER AGAIN SEE MY SON.

How did I KNOW that but NOT KNOW THAT???

I can't stop looking at these pictures.

REALLY looking at them.

How could you have seemed this happy less than 4 weeks BEFORE?????

I miss you.

What I would give to see this smile again.

I am so sorry there won't be more memories like this.

You and your brother were such a good pair.

You had fun Shmoops. We all had fun.

I had no idea this would be the last picture I would ever get of my two boys.

Someone please tell me this isn't real. PLEASE????

The lady wasn't lying. At all. Although I thought she was. A liar, that is. And if truth be told, I thought she was nuts.

I mean, who tells 1500+ people about to walk 18 miles overnight through the streets of Boston to raise awareness about suicide, that they are probably going to lose their toenails?

Who does that?

An obviously crazy liar that's who.

Or so I thought.

Or so I thought.....WRONG.

Guess I should find that woman and apologize for doubting her.
Cuz today, exactly 10 weeks to the day I walked those 18 miles through the streets of Boston overnight, the nail on my left big toe fell off. Completely.

Which means that lady was not the crazy liar I thought she was.

Who knew.

Wouldn't have lost my nail had I not participated in the OUT OF THE DARKNESS WALK to raise suicide awareness because my son placed a gun to his head and ended his life.

Nope, if my son had not killed himself I'd still have my toenail.

How sad is that?

My lack of toenail is now yet another daily reminder of how horrible my new life is.

CJ, I wish you could come back.

I could really use one of your too-tight bear hugs right about now.

The hardest part of this journey is that it's always hard.

You can't escape the pain. Or the heartache. Or the tears.

My eyes feel horrible this morning. Tears wouldn't stop last night.

They came out of the blue and held on tight.

Didn't matter that I had just spent some unplanned for time hanging out with our neighbors. That I smiled a bit. That I laughed a little. That I relaxed for a while.

None of that mattered when I came back home and stepped back into reality.

People have no idea how much I envy them.

I WANT to go home each night and NOT live this nightmare. I want to not know what it feels like to have a child of mine shoot himself. I want to be happy again. I want John and Connor to be happy again.

You know life is hard when you're sitting at a baseball game watching the mascot dance to THIS SONG.

And you realize that both you and your husband are crying.

Because that song was a part of THIS MOVIE....a movie your son LOVED, LOVED, LOVED. And watched a million times over. Which means both you and your husband watched it a million times over. And fell in love with it too.

But really fell MORE in love with our little guy as he watched that movie.

Now, hearing that song just reminds you of how much you have lost.

And how destroyed you truly are.

And how effed up our life is now.