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Comment by rachel_micele on January 20, 2016 at 9:22pm

So much activity over the weekend. I am grateful for every single one of you. 

"I'm 33 fucking years old, this is not how my life was supposed to go." Oh how I hear you Rebekah. It happening for me at 35 when I only had 3 1/2 years with him, it wasn't supposed to either. I was fucking robbed. How I said that over and over. After many months it started to wear off - not because I believed it any less. Quite the opposite. But I would say it like that fact matters or was going to change something. But it never did. It wasn't supposed to happen. But it did. The heart can't understand that. I don't think mine ever will.

I have never in my life loved anyone so deeply and completely. But then I've never met anyone even close to being perfect for me like Gary was. I understand I need meaningful connections in my life but I don't think I'll ever love like that again, if at all. And this goes back to Tildyc's post. The pain of losing him, losing "us" when he fulfilled something surreal ... it all just hurts so bad it feels inhumane. "Us" was entirely perfect. I can now begin to appreciate how it would of been a tragedy to have never known him but I don't think I could survive another scenario. I am barely surviving this. Do I want to feel a man's physical affections again, especially being so young? In a perfect world, yea. But the world is no longer perfect. And that's as far as I can go with that otherwise I panic. Gary was/is my heart. So much so it feels literal. He is me. I need him. I need him always like blood in my veins. His physical death changes absolutely nothing of how I feel for him. All of us here understand how different our loves were than the Joe Blow or Mary Jane who "gets back in the saddle", moves on, or whatever else. I'm sorry but I don't believe for a moment those individuals had a love even comparable to ours. I've never been one to believe in soulmates but my view may be starting to change.    

Comment by Linda Engberg on January 18, 2016 at 2:08pm

I just wish God would take me, 3 years and it gets harder every single day. If it was for my little dog Babie J. I would end it all. Each day is just torture.

Comment by Trina Mamoon on January 18, 2016 at 4:58am

Dear All,

I have been silent for a long time. There are many reasons for that. Firstly, December 21st, Winter Solstice is our marriage anniversary. Also, up here in Alaska it gets very depressing in the winter months; the dark and the cold don't help to lift your spirits, quite the opposite. It was the end of the semester and I was busy wrapping up my teaching before leaving for Bangladesh, my country of origin.

I was in Dhaka, Bangladesh for three weeks. All my siblings and I we reunited for the first time in several years in our family home. It had good moments of bonding, but it was like visiting another planet. I am a Bangladeshi-American, but having lived in the States for more than half of my life, I am more of an American in many respects as I am a Bengali. While in BD I could deceive myself into thinking that Joseph is back in Alaska, as I would visit my home country every year without him (he accompanied me on several occasions, but mostly I would perform my family obligations my myself). So the pain of his death was muted as I pretended to myself that he was back home. But there were many times when I wanted to scream at my siblings and extended family. They were all having a good time with New Year parties and get-togethers and had the indecency to question my lack of enthusiasm and participation in these merry-making occasions. I don't resent anyone their joy and happiness, but I do resent that they wanted me to join in the fun with them as my lack of participation for them was a reminder of mortality. Had I not sat by myself, deep in my own thoughts and living in my own world, they could have had more fun without the shadow of grief, loss and death--the human condition. People don't want to be reminded that we are all mortal and some day whether it's next year or it is in 10 years from now, there will be another death, another loss that one will have to contend with.

Talking about brothers, my brother always gives me material and practical support. He has never once not given me help when i've needed it, but unfortunately, he is incapable of giving me emotional support. He thinks that I should have "moved on" by now as it'll be one year and six months in February that Joseph left me behind. My brother doesn't say so in as many words, but that's the vibe I get from him. He is an unattached (gay) guy and has not yet loved as deeply and fully as I have, so he can't quite relate to my utter sense of loss and feeling of deep desolation. My older married sister is terrified of talking to me about Joseph b/c I think she is superstitious, and thinks that talking about my grief and loss will usher in her own widowhood. People are strange! The only person of my family to whom I can speak honestly is my unmarried younger sister. She and Joseph were good friends, and so she understands the depth of my pain, and the fact that I am not likely to "move on." This how things were when I was visiting BD.

I got back home yesterday, and I broke down into tears in different airports, security check points, and boarding gates. I couldn't face the fact that Joseph would not be waiting for me at the airport, all excited, all impatient to welcome me back home, he wouldn't be there to greet me with his huge smile, a kiss and tight hug. This will never happen again. So here I am, back in our home, Joseph-less, heartbroken, and inconsolable. My prayer is again, as it has been all these 17 months is to be taken and to be reunited with Joseph. Even if there is no reunion in the afterlife, I still want to leave this world. It feels wrong to live on when the love of my life is no more. No joy, no hope, no new future to look forward to. All this was brought home yet again when all my relatives screamed for joy at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve. All of them have dreams, new possibilities, new loves and new hopes for the New Year. Not I.

Comment by Trina Mamoon on January 18, 2016 at 4:57am

Conclusion from my previous post:

My only dream is to depart from this life and to be reunited with my love. So not in line with everyone else at the NY Eve party! I realized once more that I no longer inhabit the same world as the rest of "them." So sad, but so true.

Morgan, I hope you are hanging in there by the skin of your teeth; I know January is the month of many anniversaries, many memories for you. Hang in there, my friend! And all of you who read this post, hang in there. Peace be upon all of you!

Comment by Trina Mamoon on January 18, 2016 at 4:19am

Dear Rebekah,

I am deeply sorry for your loss. You are only 33, you shouldn't have to go through this kind of grief, suffering, and unspeakable pain at this young age. None of us do, but especially not someone who is so young. 3 months into the death of your beloved is still early days. The pain is extreme in the first six months or so. For some it gets a little bit easier after the first terrible year; not by much mind you, but some. My heart goes out to you and I send you vibes and good energy for healing. 

Hugs, Trina

Comment by Rebekah on January 18, 2016 at 12:24am

As I sit here crying so much, especially after reading all your posts and realizing that we are all on this shit show journey together... I just don't want it. I don't want any of if.

Bluebird- why you said about God- spoke to me deep down. That's what I beg for and scream for every day. I've never been religious but have always wanted to believe there is something out there. I think if there is a god, he would surely show me by letting me know my husband is okay. And then nothing. Nothing but emptiness and going on one more miserable day.

Wednesday I will hit 3 months. 3 fucking months. How did this even happen, how did I get here. I just want to wake up in our bed with him staring back at me. I'm 33 fucking years old, this is not how my life was supposed to go. I too, do not want this life anymore. I want to be done with it with the hopes of seeing my husband once again. And if there is nothing after this then it wouldn't be much different than being here... Alone and in so much pain it seems humanly impossible to live through the pain of it every day over and over again.

I fucking hate this.

Comment by rachel_micele on January 17, 2016 at 5:20pm

You make complete sense Tildyc. All very well said.

Comment by bluebird on January 17, 2016 at 4:27pm

Both yesterday and today I had off work, and both days I just stayed in bed until 2 pm.  I have to be up by around 7 am every day to feed the cat and give him his hyperthyroid medicine, so I did that and then went back to bed.  Was on the internet on my phone for a bit each day, then fell back to sleep.

I truly feel no reason to get up, other than to take care of the cat. On days I work, I have to get up to go to work, because my financial situation is very bad, but on my days off, what is the fucking point?? My husband isn't here to share the days and nights with me. I don't do anything other than mindlessly watch tv and use the computer. It's all just waiting to die.  Today, while in bed, I thought "What if I just stay here all day, and not get up until I have to for work tomorrow?"  I could actually do that.  I only got up because I had to use the bathroom. I also made some toast and ate it, but I wasn't really hungry.

I'm not even sure why I'm saying all this, except maybe to say it somewhere where people might have an understanding of what I mean and how I feel.  What is the point of this "life" with no joy, this slow dragging towards death?  If there were a loving god, it would put me out of my misery, or would at least allow/facilitate my husband visiting me and letting me know that he still exists, that he is still himself, that he is ok, and that we will be together again (if there is an afterlife).

I fucking HATE life. I do not want my life.   And I am fucked no matter what I do -- I need to stay alive long enough to take care of our cat for his whole life, and I will do that, even though I am miserable in so many ways (mainly my husband having died, but also parents' health issues, my own health issues, financial issues, job issues, etc.).  After that, if I don't die or kill myself I will continue to be miserable for the rest of this horrible fucking life, and if I do then I will cause that kind of pain in my family.  There is no good choice, no good outcome. I would really rather have never existed.

Comment by bluebird on January 17, 2016 at 1:46pm

As usual, I agree with what you've all said (morgan, tildy, linda, mel).

As you said, Mel, each morning it's a deeper sense of loss, and the realization that life is over.  It will never get better, only worse, because over time other loved ones will die too (unless I die first, which is my fervent hope).  You are lucky that you're 68 -- I'm only 47, and my life ended three years ago. I will NOT live to old age, I refuse. 

Comment by Mel Royer on January 17, 2016 at 12:53pm

All I know is that each morning I awake to a deeper sense of loss not a less painful one and the realization that my life is effectively over. It never changes. It always gets worse. I suppose I would be diagnosed with a major depressive disorder but the truth is the only disorder in my life is the lack of my soul mate being in it. And, I expect I will also witness the passing of others before I, at last, shuffle off the mortal coil as they say. I am 68 this year and with the loneliness, the loss, the lack of any meaningful purpose in my life, I don't expect to live much longer, or should I say, I don't WANT to live much longer.

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