This is my chance to finally fight that gorilla on my back-rid myself of the torment I feel when I look at my son's photo or touch his favorite ball cap. In my more practical moments, I realize I am not alone in my loss, but that offers precious little comfort when I'm paralyzed by dark thoughts and dealing with a mother's desire to hug her child. I am isolated, damaged, altered in some way by loss's relentless clawing at my gut. I blame myself for Brett's suicide. There-I said the word, and that in itself is a great victory for me. I have finally choked out the word, as distasteful as it is for me to say. Suicide! It's a daily demon that haunts me. I wonder when I will ever get even one tiny, little, smidgen of happiness. I see happiness on the faces in the old photos of my son and me, but those people are posed and stiff strangers from another lifetime. Today, I live in a world of "nevers." I will never hear Brett's voice, never enjoy his jokes, never rock his babies, and never share his life's victories and disappointments. There are no credentials more earned than mine when it comes to writing about finding life after loss. Who knows though; perhaps yours are as worthy as my own. Does your loss consume you, stealing your very essence? If so, I invite you to journey through these pages and follow me through to the other side. Together let's discover a stronger self. I'm weary of waking each day and calling it success to simply put one foot in front of the other. It's time for change-time for freedom, don't you think? Between these pages we'll find healing in our commonalities and work through the blame, guilt, shock, envy, anger, and sadness, in the hopes of reaching balance and inner peace.