I just stumbled upon this thread, but wanted to add my two cents. I really cannot relate. My son was stillborn. He was taken from me before I knew him. I know that is nothing like losing a living breathing person who was wrapped up in your life. I can't compare the two. That was three years ago, and I still miss him daily. But it hurts less than it used to. Like you, I was shocked how many people who had gone through this that I didn't know. For that reason, even when it makes people uncomfortable, I talk about my son- and count him as one of my children. Maybe it's a step forward for the people it happens to next.
But I've been in loss groups for long enough to know there isn't a right way to grieve. The issue, for me, was determining the line between grief and depression. And getting a PTSD diagnosis. That allowed me to get the right treatment. If you need medication, it isn't failure. Finding someone whose therapy centered around PTSD (I did EMDR) helped me a lot. It sounds like, since you got him the bike, and have a level of blame for yourself that may help you too. The blame is irrational, but even if you logically know that, irrational things can't just be reasoned away.
It was hard for me to recognize that my grief slipped into depression, but I lost basically everything that had ever interested me in the months following my loss. Even now, I'm only slowly getting hobbies back. I did stop scuba diving- I thought it was too much of a risk to put myself underwater when I still have panic attacks and episodes of utter devastation. So now my husband goes without me. But I miss it. That has to be a good sign to wanting to get to whatever the new normal is. (I can't say "back to normal".)
Also know that grief comes in waves. I saw you post earlier that "life didn't seem to suck so much today", and I think that's all you can hope for. Is that you have more of those days, where it sucks less. Let joy come back to your life where you can find it. And that takes time. You can't be expected to hit a certain time period and have everything just be better. Everything will never "just be better". Forever there is going to be a trigger that hits and it all comes back. But those triggers happen less often. It doesn't mean you are moving on. It doesn't mean you've forgotten your son. It means you have to do your best to keep living life.
December was still so recent. The hurt so fresh. You say you are religious, so give yourself grace to take the time to heal and to process. Ignore the people who tell you God needed another angel, that things happen for a reason. Those platitudes are ********. But I try to give them grace too- in that, they say those things because they don't know what else to say, but care about you, so feel like they should say something.
Can you find a way to honor your son in how you live your life? What are things that meant a lot to him? Can you work with a cause that matters to him? Create a ritual to help you celebrate his life? (My therapist was big with ritual and ceremony...)
This is an interesting analogy that I think sums things up pretty well:
This Analogy Perfectly Explains Why You Can’t Just ‘Get Over’ Grief
It's like what you said about how it doesn't get better, it gets different.
You have my prayers today.
