Please.....stop

The sadness, the doubling over sadness, in the grocery store, walking by the bagel bites, super pretzels, corn chips.....not buying those staples...as if he were gone, erased from the earth. Gone from my life.

But he's not. But he is.

My son's right there, right here, in the same zip code, and then, not. He is in his body, and then not. He is in his right mind, and then not.

I wish I could explain in words to you who love me, who want to understand, what this pain, this absence, this grief feels like. I want you to understand so you just stop suggesting,

"Isn't it time you move forward with your life?"

"Can't you just accept how it is right now?"

Your (well intentioned) suggestions, only serve to isolate me more. Pull me into myself. Your (well intentioned) concerns make me want to show you....to cut my own leg to feel the pain the real pain that every day brings. To show you the blood, my rich red blood in 3D. Maybe that will help you understand what searing pain looks, smells, feels like.

While time marches on and 2 years turns to 3 with no real change in sight, I am barely staying alive. Know that. The thread that keeps me connected to life is fraying dangerously thin. You can't, or won't see that. You just keep saying, as if for my own good, "you need to detach."

You didn't give birth to him, didn't hold him through his fevers, croup, tears and fears. You didn't love him from your loins, from your bone marrow, so, NO you cannot suggest those impossible things to me.

And yet you continue....."walk away, he needs to leave the state to get away from you, let him hit bottom."....so that he shatters, like a piece of bone china. Then, when he has nothing left but broken pieces, he will change his ways. He will come back. How do you know that? How does anyone know that? Love is the answer. Love.

You people do not and can not understand. So stop trying to pretend like you do. Tell me you wish you could understand, but, since you're not me, you can't. Tell me you are praying for my boy and for me and for the health of my heart. Tell me you will be here for me with open arms if I reach out. But don't you dare tell me to walk away, to cease contact, to detach.

You cannot possibly understand.