Every evening, Debbie still plays with that carton. “10, 9, 8, 7…..1… ready or not, here I come”! she squeals with joy. Uncovering her face, she runs around their verdant green backyard looking for her only son Dylan.
“Okay.. Dylan, come out I say, Mamma’s getting anxious now” bellowed Debbie.
Alas! Dylan is to be found nowhere. Debbie frantically continues to search for him.
Dejected and depressed she rushes inside, to look for Dylan. On certain days, her emotional hurricane would be so severe, that she’d be oblivious to the surrounding and continue to weep incessantly.
Her unbearable screaming sobs were interrupted only when she needed to draw breath.
After a few hours, wiping her tears she’d start to laugh hysterically.
Today being 1st Dylan’s death anniversary she was spared from her weekly dose of electroconvulsive therapy for her Major Depressive Disorder.