Mr. Sandman Leave me alone

I finally went to see our family physician today. I had been putting the visit off since Mom had passed because I felt like I had gained weight and he is such a strong believer in me and my athletic ability (such that it was) that I didn't want to let him down. As soon as I told him that mom had died, he understood. I don't even think that I must have gained any weight after all because he didn't mention it, and he would have. My foot has not healed enough for full out running yet,but it will in time. The other night I came to the realization that I am TERRIFIED of going to bed at night. If I take a nap during the day with Connor or on the weekend, I am fine. However, going to bed in the night is a different story. I lay there and images of my mom's final hours, and seconds flash across my mind. I see them placing the magnet on her pacemaker, making her heart stop. I see the heart rate monitor register the flat line and the 0 under respitory. The worst image is permanently burnt into my mind. It is of her on the embalming table in the funeral home. I had to go in and identify her. It was horrible. I wish that I could reach into my brain and rip that image out and throw it into a fire.
All of these images, and my extreme fear of sleep, my mood swings, and overall numbness toward my mother's death led Dr. Moore to diagnose me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Before mom had even died I thought I was suffering from PTSD from the three times that I had found her unresponsive. So now the question is, will this ever go away??? Will these images leave me at peace. I am being haunted and it is terrible. Dr. Moore is a Christian like myself and he told me that it could very well be Satan attacking me, knocking me down, and making me miserable. I believe this could be the case. He recommended praying for my children, or just talking to God and asking him to take those images away. I will do that tonight, once I brave getting into the bed. I would rather sit up and pass out from sleep meds in a chair than go into that bed at night. Another sad part of this is my sweet husband can't sleep well without me in the bed! So he is pestering me to come to bed and didn't realize until tonight that I just can't. Not before taking my anti anxiety meds.
I have become a legal pill popper. A person relying on meds to keep me sane. On the one hand I am happy to have them to take because they help, but on the other hand I don't want to need them.