Dear SWEETCAROLINE72,
I am moved by your post, and feeling great empathy for your overwhelming grief. My son has cancer. In our cae the journey is slow: a diagnosis of cancer (shocking since my son like yours lived a healthy life including being a marathoner); treatment, surgery, radiation, apparent remission; then the cancer back again, now with regular chemo and other complications created by the years of invasive treatments. I can't imagine getting the news and facing the death all within 3 weeks. My journey with grief and pain continues but at least for now my son is still with us.
I read two things in your post that struck me: first you said "I wish I had someone to talk to that undeerstood" and second "I need to find new ways to deal with this because the pain is killing me". And I thought about my friend who lost her daughter to cancer three years ago as someone who might be able to meet both those needs. What follows is what she wrote in response to my request to share her journey with you:
"Losing someone changes you. Losing a child changes everything for the rest of your life. Your grief is your response to the deep love you had for your son, the most profound love of a mother for her child. Although the physical relationship has ended, the love never dies."
"As a mother who lost her only daughter what I have found that was helpful is:
Reaching out: you've done this---Good for you! You need someone who won't tell you to 'get over it' but will affirm your grief and help you navigate the roller coaster of emotions it takes you on.
I found working with a trained therapist was very helpful. My grief was not a problem to be solved, it was an experience to be carried. It was about finding a path to walk alongside my grief, not to make the loss of my child disappear."
"I came across a model created by a grief counsellor who had formed it out of what she learned working with a mother after the death of her child. The mother had expected that in time her grief would shrink and become a much smaller part of her life. But what happened was different. The grief stayed just as big but her life grew around it. The counsellor's name is Lois Tonkin. Reading about this model helped me to understand that I would never be 'over' the grief of losing my daughter, but that there would be days that I would be able to move on with other parts of my life. I realized that I could 'grow' a new life which included the loss of my daughter."
"My final suggestion is just getting out in the fresh air, wialking in nature. It helps you connect to the present instead of spending a lot of time thinking about the past. Walking also helps to get sleep back on track. Walking with others may lead to helpful conversations; walking side-by-side makes difficult conversations easier than talking face to face.
Now a last word from me. I was struck by the words "whether I stay or not is undecided" and wondered whether you were in your darkest moments thinking of ending your own life. I understand the lure of that when you are in such excruciating and ongoing pain but I sincerely hope that the life force that prompted you to reach out for help will continue to sustain you and lead you towards supports that will make it possible to, as my friend says, 'grow a new life that includes the loss of your son'.
Holding you in my heart, Mert