Since Rory’s death our family has dealt with depression, panic attacks, anxiety, suicide ideation, and PTSD.
The trauma of her loss, the trauma of the night, has brought each of us to our knees in different ways.
The road we’re walking with each other is painful and difficult.
As we each deal with our grief in diverse ways, there are times we struggle to understand the other’s.
As the panic engulfs one of us, literally taking his breath away, we search for the right words to say.
As depression and guilt grip one of us, squeezing us to the point it feels easier to give in than to fight, we hold on to the one.
When the thoughts play over and over in one of our minds relentlessly, we try to love and distract.
This is an unexpected road and, if I’m being honest, really terrifying.
In many ways I don’t know how to help or what to do. I’m so grateful for the professional help we’re receiving.
The one thing I tell my boys and I always want them to know is that I’m here.
I love them.
No matter what.
If you know someone who’s struggling, reach out.
If you’re struggling, reach out.
You’re not alone.