Support Groups

Originally posted by me as dakotaismyson March 16, 2020

I’ve mentioned my amazing support group, before… but I told hubby that, regardless how many amazing, supportive people I have, we all essentially go through this alone. No one can be in our heads. No one can hear the whispers of our hearts. We let people have insights to what we choose… to what we deem safe to share. This is not unlike people who love us hiding depression from us.

Speaking of support groups, tonight is the first visit to the official support group. It comes the same day as death certificate receipt. I’ve learned to qualify “crying” in different terms. For example, my eyes leaked from the moment I was handed his death certificate at the funeral home today and continued to leak the whole way home. I don’t consider this crying… it’s a more passive version, one more akin to the constant ache in my chest. Now adays ‘crying’ means if affects breathing… with the effect being the more aggressive type of cry.

How crazy it is that I muster up the courage to read his death cert an hour after I get home only to discover a typo. It was on the date of injury, which was actually 02/20/2020 but someone (understandably, I guess) typed 02/02/2020. I called the funeral home and they will take care of that with an addendum, it doesn’t affect the current cert being used though. Tomorrow I meet with an attorney. Dakota didn’t have a will (how many mid-20s kids do?!) so his “estate” is called “intestate” and it will go through probate… whatever all that means. I’m assuming that is legal talk for “drag mom through more”.

Did I mention group support scares me? I have never been to something like this. I don’t know what to expect. “HI, I’m Dakota’s mom and I can’t breathe without thinking my heart is going to explode, I’m always on the edge of aggressive crying, and I have leaky tears at random points throughout the day. I sometimes wonder if I’m going insane, always worried about my daughter, and unsure how to function besides sitting on my bum and thinking about my son. Oh and I’ve started blogging for no purpose other than note somewhere what this… his decision… does to a mom… because no matter what he said, I am not strong enough to bear this weight in tact. Thank you.”

I guess I’ll let you know.

I just miss my son.

A pic of my Dakota from my wedding... 2 months before he died.