February 7th Saturday.

Just sat thinking of the morning the police knocked on my door and told me my son was dead. I am absolutely heartbroken. I dont know how im ever going to come to terms with the death of my father and son. What's fucking wrong with me??! Grief is killing me. Damian said, am I telling the boys there's reasons to live and actually no im not. How can I give them reasons to live when I dont even want to be alive myself? I tell them we live for each other and thats all I can say. Im only alive today because my boys need me. We're all depressed, its just so sad. How am I meant to help my boys with their grief, when im drowning in my own? God life is hard! I was thinking about when my dad told me he had terminal cancer. I felt like id been winded. I can't seem to accept their deaths. Im messed up mentally. My heads a mess. I watched my dad deteriorate over 19 months. He was given 3-4 months without treatment, and 12-18 with, and he lived for 19 months. He didn't want to die. I remember seeing him cry in his car. It haunts me. I never saw my dad cry until he was diagnosed terminal. I am so heartbroken. Why my dad and son? What did I do so bad in life to go through this? This is why im turning my life around. 4 years sober, 6 days weed free. Im doing my best and god is doing the rest. My life is in God's hands. The ache in my heart is heavy. Grief is heavy. I'd give anything to have my dad and son back, anything in the world.