… I have little comfort to offer, Ma'am.
You saw something no person should never have to see, something you never signed up for.
I did sign up for it, but I'm not sure I considered the implications when I enrolled in EMT school. All my scenarios had happy endings. I was always the heroic rescuer, and all my patients lived. And looking back, not once did I envision being the person left behind to pick up the pieces. The aftermath never entered my mind.
And never, ever did I envision my patient dying because I failed him. Yet it happened, and his ghost visited me for years afterward. It took a lot of perspective, and the love and support of a good woman to get me to the point where I could make friends with that ghost, and not dread seeing his face in my dreams.
You say you're emotionally tough, and you're wondering why you can't stop crying, and why your toughness has abandoned you now.
It didn't abandon you at all. You were a layperson on the scene of a horrific accident, and you did what you had to do. You didn't freeze, you didn't fall apart, and you offered what little aid your training and equipment would allow. A trained rescuer could have done little more.
Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. ~ Ambrose Redmoon
Falling apart after the fact is not weakness, and it happens to us all. Any professional EMT who tells you otherwise is either lying, or the type of person you don't want taking care of you and your loved ones. The way you're feeling now is the price you pay for your humanity. And believe me, not feeling is far worse.
It was hard not having a soul, most especially when you could remember having had one. ~ Tom Clancy in Without Remorse
Right now, you're wondering if this feeling is going to last forever, if you'll ever be able to forget the sound of that child calling for his mother.
I wish I could say you will. If only that were true.
But it's not.
But believe me, it will get easier. You'll think about it less as time passes, and the memories will fade, until one day you'll realize that you haven't thought about him for quite some time. And yes, there will be things that make you think of him, and the pain will come flooding back so quick and hard that it will take your breath away, and the sobs will catch in your throat. That is how grief works, and there is no avoiding it or hastening the process.
But those moments will pass more quickly, and they'll become fewer and farther between. That's how healing works, too. If you believe in God, ask Him for peace and understanding. That's what I do. If you don't believe in God, then find your peace and understanding from the company of friends and loved ones. Go live your life, hon. It may be hard at first, but eventually you realize that it's not something you have to force yourself to do any more.
And if you need that Xanax to get you through the occasional rough spots, then so be it. But I beg this of you – if you find yourself at the point you need to refill that prescription, it is time to seek the help of a mental health professional.
And there is no shame in that, either.
Until that time comes, I want you to consider this; if those children's mother had survived the accident, what would she have done?
Exactly what you did.
She'd have put herself between her children and the horrible scene around them. She'd have held their hands, and whispered soothing words to them, and sought to quiet their fears. She'd have tended their wounds until the rescuers arrived. She'd have swallowed her own grief and terror, and borne that of her children. She'd have done whatever she could to spare them that pain.
She wasn't able to do that for them, but through fate, or happenstance, or God's own providence, someone was there in her stead – you.
And that's something.
