How much is too much?

Written January 9, 2023:

Am I sharing too much in such a “public” forum? Maybe. But this is almost like therapy for me.
It has been 17 days since my heart was torn into more pieces than I ever could have thought possible. I’m still barely sleeping. I’m still barely eating. It’s better, yes. But still not great. I still cry every day. I still have full breakdowns most days where I feel like I can’t breathe. Like an elephant is sitting on my chest. I am grateful that his other 2 parents and I have grown closer from this horrible experience and we’ve been checking on each other almost daily, even just to say “I’m having a bad day. How is yours?”
Parents shouldn’t outlive their children. I still sleep with his pillows just hoping I can catch small bits of his scent. I still wear his shirts and hoodies every day.
I went back to work today even though I technically didn’t have to. But I knew that if I didn’t, the likelihood of sinking into a depression I couldn’t climb out of would only increase more and more. So I wore his shirt with my scrub pants. I wore the new ring I bought with his birthstone (amethyst). I wore my necklace with both boys names. I wore my bracelet that his riding group had made for everyone for the ride over the weekend. I smiled that work had purple masks and that my stethoscope is purple. And I tried my best to keep my brain focused. I didn’t do well. But I survived. And that’s all I can do. Because Carter needs me to do that. He can see me sad. He can see me cry. Because he’s sad too. And he cries too. We can cry together. But he needs me to survive.
So I’ll just continue to sleep with this pillow that’s losing the scent of Bryce. And cry when I need to cry.