Dealing with the death of a child is every parent's worst nightmare. A suicide adds the extra dimension of guilt. Why didn't I see it coming? What should I have been doing differently? Irrational guilt over every scolding, punishment, and grounding ever handed out. Was I too hard on him? Did I not give him enough guidance? In his last moments, did he blame me? What was he feeling as he started to squeeze the trigger? I feel that I can never again truly enjoy life's little pleasures because I can't tell him about them, so the happiness quickly fades. And the successes seem hollow. Is there ever going to be a time when I don't cry daily? How do all of you who have experienced this get through it? Please share some of your coping mechanisms.
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