I don't drink alcohol. I lost my son to an apparent drug overdose in June last year. He joined the 27 Club. It did not dawn on me to drink by this time. I haven't been drinking in over 10 years. I hated losing my child this way. I still hate it. I am not okay with it. I will never be okay with it. My heart is quite torn up and broken about the death of my firstborn. This does not make me want to drink. I would lose everything, I'm sure. I'd lose my home. I would lose my family.
It's strange you know? One day you're planning your future, trying to figure out how to manage everything that is happening in life, when all of a sudden you get blindsided. At least, this is how it was for me. I just kept on going. It was all a blur. I cried so much. I grieved so hard. I am still grieving. It will never end.
Alcohol could only make things worse. I meant to write here, there were posts I began that were blank. As though the page itself were on hold. As my life shattered and crumbled around me, I grasped on to hold onto some shred of faith, of love, of something at all. I was alone. I thought at some points since my son passed away that I too would surely die. Sadly, it didn't work that way in this case. I just kept waking up day after day.
That is how it is done.
One day at a time.
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