While I was growing up, my mom was mostly a stay-at-home mom. My dad worked as an OTR truck driver so he was gone most of the time. My mom really started working as we got older and didn’t require so much one-on-one with her, when we became a little more independent.
Either way, we knew we could count on our parents to provide for us and to be there for us. We weren’t materialistically spoiled, but love spoiled. As I started growing up, college was not on my radar. My dream was to become a wife and a mother.
Simple. I know and not very common, but there it is. I wanted to be a wife and mother.
Well, in the ebb and flow of things, mothering came first…marriage came much later.
However, when I held that life so completely dependent on me for the first time, I knew it was what I wanted. The wife part didn’t matter anymore. Oh, sure, I wanted to get married. I wanted us to be a family, but life had other plans. Instead of marriage we had another little life. As those first two were born and life kind of hit us head on, neither of us knew what we were doing. We stumbled along…….
But…..you learn and we did. We weren’t the best parents. We made mistakes and we kept chugging along. Marriage never became an option and eventually, we went our separate ways. Much to my dismay, the two boys ended up living with their father. Again, not what I wanted, but by that time, my self-esteem had been hit so hard, I was convinced the boys deserved better than me. Little did I know…..
I never imagined that my future or theirs, held the tragedy that my family has endured. I worried about something happening to one of them. I feared it. I fretted and fussed over them getting hurt, but never in my heart did I believe one would commit suicide….
The early part of this year. As a parent, the biggest fears I had were severe injury, my child getting kidnapped and enduring extremely traumatic physical/sexual abuse, and death. Yes, I feared for their emotional well-being, physical well-being, and daily treatment, but I really believed they were better off where they were.
But, I don’t know what happened. I am still stuck, trying to figure out when suicide became an option for my son. How? When? Why? As I said, the earlier part of this year, I began to get concerned about my son taking his life. My worry for him increased and I tried to reach out for help….In vain. I was ignored. My pleas were ignored.
Every night I lay awake wondering all kinds of thoughts. I question everything.
I mean E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G surrounding Darren’s life. I question his mental state. I question his emotional state. I question my parenting. I question his dad’s parenting. I question his relationships with other people. I question and question and question some more. I replay that night in my head. I replay the last time we seen one another in my head. I replay the four previous months in my head. I replay the last year in my head. I replay it all in my head and still have no answers. I am as much without answers as I was three months ago.
I want the pain to stop.
I want the questions to stop.
I want the tears to stop.
Mostly, I. Just. Want. Him. Back.
Now, to figure out how to go on without him — heartbreaking for me as his fear was that he wouldn’t be missed.
How do I move on with my life without forgetting about him. I mean, forget. Who could forget? Definitely not me, but he’s not here, so where does that leave a person?
In one of his suicide notes he wrote:
I should just go, go for good. I’ve thought about it many times………..*** will be happier, it’s just Darren gone. ~ Darren
I’ve thought about that quote many times since he passed away. What does it mean?
He’s gone, there’s no denying that. But, what does it mean for him to say “It’s just Darren gone” because he’s not just gone. Yes, he’s no longer with us. He will never walk or talk with us again on this earth, but his memory is very much alive. He will always be with me albeit not physically, but with me still.
Oh, hell, this sucks!