To say the least, life has been hell. My thoughts are dark and twisted and since I can't afford a professional I'm turning to my writing. If you don't like it and it's too much for you don't read. You've been warned. I dream almost every night my son suffocating. I wake up panicking and crying because I couldn't save him. The doctor said there's nothing I could do to save him but I can't help but blame myself. I punish myself for my son dying. If only I'd of been a better mother, a better person, and checked on him that night maybe he'd still be here. What is SIDS anyway? A doctors excuse for not looking hard enough? Is it really true you can't tell because they're too small and he could of really suffocated? Did I kill my child? Do i deserve to love and have a life if I killed my sweet boy? I'll never know. I get to live my life wondering if I was the cause of my sons death. That in itself is just torture. I won't know until my heart stops beating and who knows when that'll be...60 years? Do you have any idea what it's like living everyday like that? Getting out of bed is a joke and my smile is empty. I lost my soul 9/16/12 and I won't get it back. Nothing is appealing anymore. My PTSD is at it's peak and I've told ppl but no one listens. How much longer can i do this?
