In the days after my mom died by suicide, I spent many desperate hours scouring the internet for stories of others hit by the same unthinkable tragedy.
How did they survive it? How did they find the strength to continue with their lives in the aftermath? Would I ever come close to smiling again, or move past the images burned into my brain — memories of the days leading up to that devastating decision, which could never be undone?
For me, that was the worst part. I couldn’t go back and make it right. Nobody could. We were stuck with it — cursed with this awful reality for life.
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