Lost my son to a suspected heroin overdose

I lost my sweet, gorgeous 39 year old son to a suspected heroin overdose in February. I am the strong one. I go around during the day like I’m fine. Today is especially hard. I’ve been in bed all day since church. I’m jealous of the families that have their kids and had family dinners. My youngest child (adopted) decided on her 18th birthday last year that we were not her real parents. I have another child close and one that lives across the country. I really don’t know how to go on. My husband didn’t get along with my son. He doesn’t feel the deep grief. A minute at a time is all I know. The deep pain is like a knife in my chest. I pray for all who suffers this deep grief.

 

I lost my boyfriend of 2 years to an overdose just a few days ago.
Just because we were not married or living together, people seem to be receiving my grief as unfounded and misplaced - like we weren't really serious about each other since we didn't live together.
I lost my dad in December and I take care of my elderly mother. He was raising a teenage daughter. Being responsible to others is what kept our commitment to each other on hold, not a lack of trust or love.
His funeral is Monday, in Pennsylvania, because that's where his family is. I can't make the trip, so I feel devastated at not being able to put closure on his passing.
Your comment about moving forward hour by hour resonated with me.

 

I too lost my son 40 years old with a suspected fentanyl laced drug. He was my only child and when he left he took part of me with him. I try to understand why and most times I think it's been a cruel joke. It's been three weeks and I am still listening to his voice mail and calling his number. I'm sorry you don't have your husband's support. I am here if you need to vent or anything. I think no one can understand unless they have been through this hell themselves.

 

It doesn't matter one bit what people think about your grief. All grief is valid because it is an outward sign of the great love a person has for the one who has gone. It validates the great value of the one who has left us.