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About Devianz

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    Subject in Flux

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Midwest US
  • Loss Type
    Loss of my Son Nathan
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  1. Lesley and Mermaidtears, I didn't think you were judging me at all, in fact it gave me the opportunity to really write down how I felt about it and share it so that maybe others would feel like it's normal to be resentful and angry about their situation and not be made to feel like you own them something. You owe yourself care, and honoring your own feelings is so important through the grief process I think. The one thing I am learning is to be unapologetic about the things I am feeling as long as I am expressing those feelings in a non-harmful way to myself or others. I don't feel bad that I am not speaking to her or giving her my time, and I really don't feel bad that she feels bad. I get that she should but I don't have time to take care of her, and that's a trap I work hard to ignore because I have a very strong care-giving drive. I have always adapted to be what other need/want from me without thinking of myself but I have found out through all of this three really important things; a. You need yourself as much as others need you, so take care of you so you can take care of others. b. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it's a sign that you trust in the love others have for you and you deserve that. c. People don't see you and your situation for who you really are and what you have done, they see you for who they are through the eyes of what they've done. Don't apologize for their perceptions and don't trust that they know you and your situation.
  2. It's difficult because she's flippant and inconsistent. She is one of those people who likes a lot of attention and needs a lot of drama and I'm not the one to give her either of those. I haven't spoken to her and actually have a no-contact order against their whole family due to some Facebook posts slighting my son and acting all hurt that their son/brother/cousin had to do it. It's all really ugly, and I actually deactivated my Facebook for exactly that reason. She keeps sending her pastor to "talk to me" about sitting down with her and forgiving her because "she's really hurting." and I get it, but I also understand that she still gets to visit him on birthdays and holidays. She gets to hear his voice on the phone. She gets to know that someday he might get out. I don't have that luxury. I am not angry with her, and I have empathy for her but I have just enough energy to keep myself and my family above water, I do not have time to comfort the mother of the man who murdered my son. I actually had to take a no-contact order out against the pastor... it's the same guy who approached me AT the funeral and asked me to come outside and meet the mother to forgive her. And when I said no, the misogynistic jerk went to my husband to "talk some sense into your wife and guide her correctly" because apparently I am unable to make up my own mind and follow my own heart. He started coming by my house weekly and I had to finally contact the police. He ruined my son's funeral for me because I was so angry at the gall of the mother and the pastor I barely had time to grieve. It was a day to celebrate my son, not to focus on hers. It was an injury I don't wish to repeat. I know that I will forgive her in time, for my own hearts sake but I am not there yet. Maybe after the trial and everything is said and done I will feel differently.
  3. I felt that way too, at first Silky. I didn't want to see anyone I knew and felt like everyone was judging me. Most of my closest friends didn't know what to say to me and so they just weren't around either. It was stunning how isolated and alone you feel after you lose a child, like no one wants to address it for fear of hurting or offending you. It's very hard and it will take so much time for you to find a new normal. For me, after a few months I found a class for ceramics (pottery) and signed up and I found that channeling my silence and energy into clay was very helpful. I started to go to the store for short trips with my husband as early as the store opened so there weren't as many people there. But only do it when you think you can handle it. I still have bad days were I don't leave the house but I am slowly finding my footing. The sadness never really goes away, but when you are ready you can start small and take each moment at your own pace. Don't be afraid to ask your husband and family for help either, you need time to grieve and not worry about pushing your own limits. If you try too much or force yourself too hard it can lead to putting on masks and faking being happy and that only prolongs the healing. It makes it harder for people to see how you are really feeling and reach out to you. Don't worry about others right now, worry about yourself and take your time with your grief. I write in a journal, not anything prolific but just a few lines a day to give my summary of that day or the start of a new one. I find that writing how I am feeling down also helps. You have to find a healthy way to express yourself, and I certainly spent more than my share of mornings in bed hiding from the world until after lunch. It's okay to feel that way, and it's okay to not leave the shelter of your bed and bedroom. Take it easy and take it slow Silky. Much love to you and your husband. ~Margo
  4. Lesley, I am actually learning to play it now, with his guitar books and magazines and a good teacher. It brings me a little peace. I do certainly feel like he's beside me when I am playing, giving me tips and laughing at my mistakes. I like the loud memories the best. *hugs*
  5. Becky, I am so very sorry for your loss. Those poor children, it's so rough on them. Many hugs. Dianne, It was a trying day for me. Long morning in court, only to find another scheduled for March 22nd. And now the tentative trial start on September 11th of this year. A full year and two months after. I guess it's something but there are days where I wish there were no such thing as lawyers and the killers mom could talk him into pleading guilty like she wants him to. It's days like this that remind me of the phrase: "God only gives use as much as he thinks we can handle... but I really wish he didn't trust me so much."
  6. I am so sorry for your unspeakable loss, Silky. Most clinics don't allow users to leave with methadone, and I am so sorry that your son didn't know. There are never any words of comfort to lose a son so young and I wish that there were. I understand feeling lost and not having any faith anymore, it's hard to tether yourself to anything right now and you feel like you are drifting. There aren't any whys? that will comfort a parent who has lost their child, when others try it never fills that gap. I am glad that you came to share your feelings with us. I lost my own son just this last year before his 21st birthday. The truth is that we can never keep them 100% safe, and it doesn't mean that we didn't do our best for them. I too was in the military and served in Frankfurt Am Main for 3 1/2 years and I loved it there, I always felt comfortable and good in Germany and wished I could have stayed there but was stationed elsewhere and wasn't anywhere near retirement. Sadly, the world has a drug epidemic going on with opioids and it doesn't skip small towns. Heroin is cheap, highly addictive, no longer requires a needle and is more pure now that it has ever been so more and more people are getting addicted. The best treatment for that addiction is methadone, but it is not without drawbacks and should not be available to bring home for the same horrible thing that happened to your son. It would be easy to mistake for a juice drink and consumed by children. It's just so awful to hear about your son and I hope that you find some peace soon. Much kindness and caring goes out to you and your husband.
  7. Tommy's mum, I certainly have days where I am not so brave, and I have awful nightmares and debilitating anxiety at times. I am lucky enough to have a job where I can work from home when I need to because some days I have every intention of going in... but never make it. I do my regular routine, work-out, shower, smoothie, pack my things... and then my knees start shaking and my stomach gets super nauseous and I get serious panic attacks. Then I have to regroup myself and work from home. Work has been very patient with me, and I am blessed to work for a great company who allows family to come first. I am not so sure it's bravery most days that I have to go to court. I still have a lot of rage and indignation about the whole process. I think that's what drives me most, is that my son was murdered over a $60 debt. I have to look at the evidence, some of the crime scene photos... and yes, the images add to the nightmares. There is video of the entire incident as well, but that's the one piece I will not watch. I am so angry about it all, and I don't trust the court system to do right by my son. That's why I show up every day, so that the District Attorney, the judge, the clerks and the murderer all know my face, know that Nathan was my world, know that he was loved and cherished. I stand up for him because he can't and I am always there, in their face, angry as hell... gritting my teeth so tightly but hiding it behind words of grace and courage. I just want justice and I know it might not ever come, and I know it may disappoint me... but I'm waiting until it does and trying to keep up the fight as hard as I can muster. I can expect to be in court for 2-3 years, and hopefully my anger doesn't subside because it's really the most useful tool on days where my bravery meter is all tapped out and running on empty. I am sorry about your son, and I do hope that you have some justice and peace of mind too in the end. At least to know they changed something so it won't happen to anyone else's parent. Much kindness and love to you and yours. ~M
  8. hoosier guy, I can definitely relate to the feeling of just not caring about myself or danger I put myself in. I try to be really conscious of that. I still take some risks now that I shouldn't, like putting myself in harms way for others. When Nathan was murdered, I made the choice not to drink at all because my mother is an alcoholic and I didn't want to fall into the pattern of escaping my emotions and feelings and using it as a crutch. I want to just go hang out at the bar, laughing and drinking and dancing with a devil may care attitude, but I know I feel that way so I just chose not to drink. It's a really tough spot to be in for sure, and you start to scare yourself a little because you find yourself in dangerous situations and you know you should care but there is this despair behind everything you do, so you just aren't paying as much attention to yourself as you should. I am very sorry for the loss of your son, there are days where I feel like I can't even see a future without my son in it. janinedean, The funeral for my son was a roller coaster for me, on one hand it was wonderful to see so many people show up and tell me all the positive things about my son, and on the other hand there were people whispering in the corners and passing judgements. It's important to take time for yourself and learn that it's okay for you to walk away for a moment. It's okay to break down in tears and it's okay not to. It's okay to not greet everyone or talk to everyone. Make sure you have a close friend or family member who is strong for you that day to intercept anyone who makes you uncomfortable or talks about things you aren't comfortable with. That is actually a really important thing for anyone who has had a child that passes because there are always people who will say the wrong thing or go off on a tangent or story about how they "understand how you feel", and they don't. There might also be old relatives or old friends who show up (old girlfriends who will sob uncontrollably... you laugh but this happens) and that strong person can help move them along. Make sure you eat, I made the mistake of not eating and nearly passed out. I know it's hard but even if it's a nutritional shake (easier to keep down) it will help give you strength. I know it's hard to eat right now, I had a horrible time and lost 17 pounds in the three weeks after my son passed, and it took me a long time to get my stomach to tolerate food. Don't wear a watch, you don't want to be aware of how long you've actually been there. And if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, make sure you give yourself space. Most funeral homes and churches have an out of the way spot for family members to regroup privately. Don't be afraid to ask for one. It's going to be rough, and it's not going to go smoothly for anyone. You expressed that you want to give him a good sendoff, but try not to pressure yourself that much, it's a whole messy deal and nothing will ever be perfect. Letting go of expectations is something I have definitely learned through all of this. I am so sorry for your loss, my thoughts are with you and hope that you can find some peace for yourself. Tobyfreefoot, Thank you for the kind words. Everyone needs time to themselves and to process things here. It's hard to read some of the things because it stirs up things you've thought you had resolved within yourself but talking to others going through it is difficult. While none of our situations are exactly the same, we all know what it is like to lose a child and that is bound to bring up emotions and be a bit overwhelming at times. I consider myself a survivor and a fighter. I find positive ways to channel my energy towards helping others, through exploring my passion and through my youngest son. I have taken up art (ceramics) and do a lot of volunteer work helping others. It helps balance me because I am constantly in court and have to face the murderer and listen to the hearings and address the issues constantly. I feel like if I fight back, and if I am there fighting the good fight, that's the best thing I can do for my son's memory. I'm learning to accept that I can only do my best every day and that some days I can do better than others and some days I can only do so much. That's part of human nature and I feel like I can replace other peoples expectations of me by making a promise to them to try my best. It sure helps me forgive myself for the days that aren't so great.
  9. Ticking Time I would give you back the long sleepless nights Where I paced the floor in worry The hours of panicked pleading phone calls Hoping that he could answer To wind back the covers of your steel trap bed Un-silence the treasure that lays within The unmoving arms of ticking seconds I am stunned by the cruelty of moment As each and every minute known Painfully pushes me closer to a limit Tightly wound and ready to break You stole those nimble hands From the womb in my heart Where he could have put it back together Inside the case, who’s face lies empty Bleeding gears and jewels lay scattered Senselessly pried out by a knife Never again being able to hold him To put my ear against his chest And hear his loudly ticking future ~mks 02/17/2017
  10. Dianne and Dee, Thank you so much for the kind loving words. It means a lot to know that I am not alone and that some of the feelings I am having are perfectly normal. I didn't get much sleep last night, so I am sorry for my short response, but I do really appreciate that you both took time to read and reply to my post.
  11. Hi Janine, I am so sorry for your loss, my son was also 20 when he passed. Those first few weeks are so hard, you go through cycles of deep sorrow and anguish, anger, questioning, and periods of unreality where nothing feels real. It's hard to process and there were times that I couldn't bear living either. You feel so all alone all of the sudden, despite your husband and daughter being right there, because you are all a little lost but also don't want to burden each other with your sorrow. It's a very thin tightrope, but what I can tell you is that you should talk to someone, your husband, a bereavement counselor, a very close friend, and tell them that you are having thoughts of suicide. I have found that sharing that with people opened my vulnerability up to others so that they could help me through it all. It all feels so surreal, and you start to become detached from everything. Your daughter will need you, she will have problems processing through the grief as well. She will feel differently than you, but it doesn't mean her sorrow is not as deep nor will the pain be constant. My youngest son was 15 when his older brother passed, and he's gone through some periods of deep depression, rage, loss and sorrow. He's not much of a talker, so I have to keep an eye on him. But now he talks a little about missing playing guitar with his brother, and building lego. It's an unimaginable pain to lose a son so early in life and so suddenly and without explanation. It is the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my life, and each day is a struggle to figure out what I am supposed to do. It gets a little easier to make it through the day, but the sorrow never goes away, and there are triggers all around you that will make you cry. it's okay to cry that out, it's okay to be angry about the situation. It does get better, one minute, then one hour and then one day at a time. Sending much love to you and your family, Janine.
  12. Groves of Sorrow I never noticed the sound that tree branches made when they bent in the wind, Until I was listening for your soft sweet whistle and words that never came I had never felt the warm sun on my eyelashes in the summer afternoon, Until I was standing out there, eyes tightly shut, trying to wish you into being I never noticed that the birds’ songs were all alarms and not greetings Until they made me cry
  13. Dodge Ball The unannounced tragedy struck Now a swift and silent menace Which stalks my every intention Throws dodge balls at my anxiety Hoping for a direct hit The target painted on my wounded heart While the panic sets in Fluttering in my stomach Swallowed hard in an attempt to push Ends up in my trembling hands That I use to pry the words From deep within my silent cries Cries that echo in my lungs Lungs that can't find my breath In the darkness from where My nightmares rise Those unannounced unwelcome blows I cannot blink away with the tears
  14. My first born son Nathan was murdered this last July, three weeks short of his 21st birthday. It's been seven months. Seven months since I touched his face, seven months since I heard him laugh, seven months of adjusting and readjusting and then doing it again because comfortable is not a place I can find anymore. I barely sleep anymore, and when I do drift off to sleep it is often cut short by nightmares and flashbacks. They give me sleeping pills to help, but I don't take them because I don't want to get locked into those nightmares. I want to wake up and stop them. I need to wake up. There are times during the day where I feel like I am still asleep and it's not real. That it's just a nightmare and I can wake up. The thoughts are fleeting but I feel detached from what is real sometimes and it really disturbs me. I don't know if that's normal or not, but I just have to keep going. I'm the sole breadwinner in my family, and my husband and youngest son need me to keep going. Some days I feel like a fraud, like I'm not doing the best I can... it feels all wrong. I get wrapped in guilt sometimes too. What could I have done differently? Did I raise him right? Did I teach him the right things? Did I do my best? If I had, he'd still be here... right? The sorrow is deep. I keep a lot from my husband because he's a pretty sensitive guy who can't really handle a lot. Even though he was a step-parent, he raised my son alongside me since my son was just 4 years old. It's rocked his world too, but I haven't had time to grieve. I wrote the obituary, I planned the funeral, I did the viewing, I deal with the court dates and the paperwork. There is no one else to do that without shattering. It's not a choice, it's what needs to be done. That's me, the strong one who gets everything done. It feels like a juggling act, but I'm standing on a pyramid of emotions that are fragile and wobbly beneath me and I feel like I could fall at any moment. I desperately want to let go and just fall... let all those things fall where they may and let someone else clean them up. But that's not me. I can't do that. I miss him so much. He was such a loving heart. I want to think that I can just keep doing this, but I don't know if I have that superpower. My one superpower was being a Mom, and I feel like I already failed at that once.
  15. MamaDukes, Oh my heart aches with yours. My son had THE most annoying laugh on the planet. He would laugh and laugh for a long time, and it used to get on my nerves. But now it's one of the things I miss the most. What I wouldn't do to be annoyed by that again! My son played guitar, and loved it. It became a part of him and something people remembered about him. At his service, we put the guitar right next to him up front and played music of acoustic guitars that he loved. He would fill the house with the sounds of tuning that guitar over and over before he started to play. Now I get out his guitar and tune it, just to touch something he touched and hear the sounds that would satisfy his soul before playing. It's been seven months, but it feels like just yesterday and yet a thousand years ago at the same time. Music soothes me too, and sometimes I just turn it on because the silence just kills me.