My separation and the death of my son's best friend.

by Blue

5 days ago, my 10 year old son lost his best friend to death. 3 months ago, my husband and I separated and I moved out. 21 months ago my grandfather died. 2 years ago our family pet died, and a little before that, my husband's mom. My parents are becoming serious alcoholics. I am 41.

When I got the phone call that my son's best friend died, I was at first shocked of course, he was only 10. My son was at school, and my heart began to race as I tried to manage my grief so that I could tell him. His dad was on vacation in California, we live in BC, and I had to track him down to let him know. I called his Dad's house (Grandpa), only to find out that my ex had just stormed out during a huge argument and was going to visit a woman he just met while on vacation. Double whammy! I was not ready for that, though I knew it was going to happen soon if it hadn't already. So I drove, probably too fast, but carefully, to pick up my son after school, told him, and the grieving began.

The last few days have been the darkest ever. My son and I let lots of our tears fall, and when we're not in complete despair, we just feel numb, like we are in a giant grey cloud, and the wet weather has not helped. On occasion we have been able to have a little laugh about something unrelated, which is nice, for the darkness is otherwise incessant.

When my son went to his dad's last night for the week, I finally let my tears fall about "the other woman." I wish he would have waited longer. I wish he still wanted me. All I can think about is how disappointed he always seemed in me... that I didn't have blonde hair, I didn't make enough money, I didn't keep the house clean enough, I didn't keep the fridge and pantry always full, I wasn't sexy enough, I didn't do enough. And my desire to gaze lovingly and curiously into his eyes was a waste of his time and angered him. I tried to prepare for this "other woman" moment earlier, but I couldn't seem to concentrate on it.

The tears fell, the anger fumed, life lost all luster as I sat in the bathtub, and balled, raged, pleaded, checked out. If it wasn't for my son and this deep sense of responsibility I feel for others, I'd wish I was done with this life, dead. I wonder how everything went so wrong. I despise the compilation of these death experiences in life's journey as I age. I always wanted to get happier and wiser as life went on. I just don't see how it can.

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