The night I lost my son I just could not believe it. For nothing could I accept he was gone. There was no sleep and all I did was cried. I didn’t eat. Once I did get some sleep which was 48 hours of having no sleep at all, I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up the crying started over. To be honest I am not really sure I have fully accepted his departure and I also believe some of it is because I never seen his lifeless body. Someone telling you your child is gone is not something you can really accept. When I had made it over to his place the ambulance was there and the cops and they would not allow me in the back yard were my son was. I was telling myself he was ok they were going to save him. When the Coroner’s showed up that was when I started getting sick and couldn’t breath.
I started blaming everyone including God. I blamed my husband, wonder if after he cut him down did he perform CPR right, blamed God for taking my child, it’s not suppose to be this way! I am supposed to die before any of my children. I even blamed my mom. When in fact the blame was no ones but I finally put the blame on myself and that is where it stayed for years.
Along with blaming myself I also lost interest in life. I choose to never leave home. My husband did all the shopping and did what needed to be done because I refused to leave home. When I did have to leave to go to the doctors the anxiety sky rocketed and my mood changes were so unreal and I hated myself and felt angry and hateful. Every time I needed to leave I could see where my son lived and it was too much pain. This went on for almost a year. Then my other son Michael came to live with me in Nov 2012 and we lived in Arkansas and we had moved there with our two youngest children at the time in Sept 2010. My son Michael hated it there and told me he was going back to Michigan were all of our family was. I was born and raised in Battle Creek, Michigan and had all my children there. I moved to Tennessee in 1998 and raised my children there were it felt safer . So on Christmas day Michael said he was moving back to Michigan and that is when I decided I was going also. I talk to my husband and my son Billy that was 16 years old at the time and they agreed to move back.
I was happy to be around my family but I honestly hated living in Michigan. I started getting counseling but I could not talk about my son John. I just could not make myself hear that he was gone. I put it in my head that he just didn’t live with me and he was alive and doing ok. I don’t remember dreaming after I lost my son until I moved to Michigan. Then I started dreaming and I hated it. I would dream about my son being alive and living life with us. I hated it because I would wake up and get a flash of reality. I started having server migraines I would wake up in the middle of the night and it would fill like my head was going to explode and I thought I was dying. I went to the doctors and was told it was from stress and had to be put on medication daily to get them under control. I had also suffered from Agoraphobia ( an anxiety disorder). I dealt with the Agoraphobia by going to the stores late at night when there was not so many people out. I still had the anxiety but it didn’t turn into a panic attack. I developed all of these after I lost my son. I have been diagnosed with PTSD also.
I have cried myself to sleep lots of nights. I have wanted to punch things (not people) and I have wanted to scream to the top of my lungs. I feel like others have forgotten him. When this first happen I wanted to take my own life to be with him but I thought about the hurt I was dealing with and didn’t want my other children or my husband to go through all that pain and suffer again. I prayed a lot and I had to apologize so many time to God because I screamed at him and was so angry with him. I had help from my son and a very close friend of mine Sandy with scripture that I needed to help me through them really hard times.
I know everyone hurts when they lose a love one but I feel like I was hit with a double whammy! Losing a child to suicide. I am not saying I hurt more than anyone else so please don’t misread that. A parent should never have to bury one of their children. Suicide leave so many unanswered questions and so much blame.
It was four years ago on 2/22/2016 since he left. I still have cake on his birthday, I gained a horrible day that I will never forget, holidays are hard to deal with and life as I knew it will NEVER be the same. If you have any questions please leave me a comment and I will answer the best I can. There will be more for me to share this is just a rough start to get my story out to the community. I am sorry if I ramble, this is a very hard thing for me to do but I feel it will help me in the long run and hope to help others.
This blog is in memory of my son John William Mosher 7/11/1992 — 2/22/2012 Forever 19 years old.