Depression Short Stories

Vilomah.

Vilomah is a word that describes a parent that has lost a child- nothing more, nothing less,  just loss and grieving of the child you created that got destroyed almost as quickly as their life began.

All I can say is it feels as if you die with them- not a part or section like if you lose a lover- but your whoe being, the life ripped out as your breath ceases in your lungs. You scream out over and over- everybody hears you but does not bother to help- they have their own problems.

Being a vilomah is unbearable but at least if you had a significant other you could share the pain and grief- but not with me. I was a single mother. My child was my life. She was all I lived for and all I strived to protect.

Now I am just a single vilomah- not mother, not anymore. No reason to live anymore now that my tiny bundle of happiness was snatched away too early. And loosing her after everything I have been through... It finally broke me.

Pushed me to the edge of oblivion and left me hanging on the edge. Rough, sharp edges stab heartily into my fingers, telling me to choose between pulling myself up or letting go.

I let go...

I just want to say that I have not and hopefully will not experience this torturous trauma. My condolences go out to any of my readers who have had this terrible experience happen to them and all parents who have in general. I am sorry if I triggered or offended anybody with this piece.