My daughter was 37 and died from an overdose. I'd never stopped supporting her efforts to stay clean nor ever given up hope or given up on her. I'd lived under the torment that I could get that call for so many years but that didn't lessen the impact of the blow. Didn't lessen the grief and how much I miss her.
Sometimes it helps me to focus on being plenty pissed off by our incompetent drug court which approves addicts going to unregulated scam treatment centers which do more harm than good as does the drug court. A U of K paper asked for an interview and I gave them one but then the part about the problems with court and rehabs----they didn't print. And that pissed me off. Anger is energizing.
But my sadness and grief prevail. I understand the mask you wear for others. I think putting on a mask must help us. By acting as if we're here in the moment, in the now, it pushes our grief back and we engage. And even if it's temporary it's some relief like an aspirin for a constant headache.
My first born daughter and my four grandchildren have been really supportive of me.
And I've long been divorced so I don't have to mask my feelings too often. I can let the tears flow as needed. And when I got a diagnosis of cancer, and surgery four months to the day after my daughter died, it hardly fazed me. Because if you're surviving the death of your child, cancer can't emotionally compete.
I feel less alone because you wrote about your son. Thank you. I'll think of you during the holidays and hope you know a lady in Texas and one in Kentucky have a bond.
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