Empty Hole

16 September 2015

Night time. In bed. The usual

I could think about Vaughn., and everything I did wrong. Or just the big things I did wrong–letting him go on Ritalin, not advocating harder for him to go to a better rehab, or at least advocating harder for him at that stupid place he did go to. Not taking him to his Kaiser doctor’s appointment that day. And of course, my last, spectacular mistake.

So basically I could sit here blaming myself for my son’s death. But since I’ve already done that quite a bit today, I could instead just feel so sad, so sad that I won’t see him again on this earth. My baby. How is any human supposed to cope with that.

Or I can distract myself–read, watch TV–no I’ve decided against that; it really makes me feel like shit.

But of course none of these things will cure me. None of them will make me feel better. Only seeing Vaughn–hearing him and touching him could do that. And I can’t have that. I can’t have what I want.

Can I stop wanting? Is that what acceptance would be?

My life feels very puny.

I guess I will read.

I guess what I can see is that all the gratifications of my ego are unstasfying. I can still enjoy those things, but they are just passing distractions–they don’t fill me or fulfill me.

My life is starting to feel like an empty hole.