Still the same.

Making little to no progress in the “heart hurts less/dying inside/really at a loss how to exist” game. I am sad to a degree that still shocks me. I just didn’t know this kind of pain existed.

196 days have passed by without my son.

Unreal. And everyday, it seems to get MORE unreal.

Cuz although people SAY time heals, time numbs, time lessens, time also defines. And solidifies. And creates permanency.

EVERYTHING in my life is defined by before and after. (and if I’m being honest, I don’t think that will ever change)

EVERYTHING I fear and loathe and despise is solidly ensconced in my brain. No matter how much I WISH things were different, they remain the same. And the same is as bad as I could’ve ever imagined.

EVERYTHING I want to change and fix and repair to that BEFORE time is permanently in my life. And my memories. And in my nightmares.

Life is just hard. Harder than I think is doable. Every day I wake up and realize that I AM the mother of a child that committed suicide. Every day I remember that my son, my family, my life are now a tragic statistic. Every day I cry inside whether or not I’m crying outside.

The holidays are coming and I literally shake when I think about them. We may be running away from our house but are we really running far enough? Is ANYPLACE far enough?

I am broken.

Nothing will ever make sense to me again.

Six months have come and gone and I'm at a loss as to how I got here. One half of an entire year has passed without my eldest son in my life. 180+ day and nights have cycled by and I'm no closer to feeling one iota better.

I realized this weekend as I sat hostage to my sadness for hour upon hour, that my life will NEVER be the same again. CJ's death has robbed me of that. Suicide has stolen away any chance of me ever being totally normal again.

I am really not the person I was BEFORE. I don't call people like I did. I don't go out like I did. I don't write like I did. I don't smile like I did.

His death has left me with so much guilt....so many questions...so many indescribable feelings.

There is no chunk of time when I'm not missing him, not thinking about those last few minutes, not welling up with tears.

I am constantly one breath, one whisper, one sigh away from sobbing. Tears are not the exception, they're the norm.

There was a time when my thoughts about CJ revolved around his job. And his mood. And his silliness. And his future.

Now they revolve around a gun. And an argument. And a pain so intense that he chose to end his life.

Every single happy memory I have of him is deeply embedded in a thick layer of WHY, WHY, WHY did he do it? WHY, WHY, WHY didn't we see it coming? WHY, WHY, WHY couldn't we help him find his way?

My son...my beautiful, handsome, charismatic and frustrating as hell at times son, killed himself mere feet from where his Dad and I stood.

Six months feels like yesterday and an eternity.

I simply don't know how to do this.

Overheard by John:

"When you lose your parent, you're an orphan. When you lose your spouse, you're a widow. But when you lose your child, no word exists to describe what you are."

I'm not sure I have ever agreed with anything as strongly as I agree with this statement.

It's been almost six months and I am still in a state of nothing.

I am in a constant state of sadness.

I am and continue to be distraught. And devastated. And crushed.

I am living and functioning...but only on the surface.

Because under the surface, I am dying. And screaming, And crying out so loudly that the sound is deafening.

I am a mother yet not the one I was.

And I'm scared that I won't ever figure out how to be THIS mom.

One handsome, smiling, energetic, thoughtful, funny and intense son.

One in a granite urn for eternity son.

Simply lost.

"We were able to recover Christopher's bone tissue for transplantation. The gift of bone can hasten recovery of patients with injuries due to trauma or bone disease. I am honored to share with you that SIXTEEN gifts of bone have been prepared from his generous donation, enabling procedures such as reconstructive surgery, spinal fusions and sports injury repairs to be performed.

Your son was able to donate his skin tissue. Donated skin is used for the treatment of burns, cleft palate repair, reconstructive surgery after cancer and certain dental procedures. The tissue bank has shared with us that, as of this date, his skin tissue has NOT YET been placed for transplant.

Christopher was also able to donate his veins. Donated veins can be used in cardiac bypass surgery to supply blood to the heart or in peripheral bypass surgery restoring blood supply to the leg and foot. The tissue bank has shared with us that at this time, your son's veins have also NOT YET been placed for transplant.

I hope that it will be of some comfort to you to know that Christopher's corneas have been transplanted into TWO VERY GRATEFUL individuals. His left cornea has restored sight for an 81-year-old gentleman in California and his right cornea was transplanted into a 23-year-old woman, who lives in Massachusetts."