"GriefShare is a church based support group. They do have meetings online, but the usual format is a group of people experiencing a loss getting together weekly to watch videos (13 weeks total) about grief and loss. After the video, we talk about the…"
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Life got the joke
I'm so beyond unhappy, so beyond miserable - just make the final twist in the dagger and be fucking done with it. My life has never been easy. That's a fact. I am so tired and can't seem to say it enough. I feel like I've tried to make my life work. Gary was the one thing that was finally starting to go right for me and then I lose it all with absolutely no warning. If I could of anticipated his death would that have changed my grief? I highly doubt it but at least certain preparations could have been made. I have tried to deal with my pain and it is just inescapable. I don't see it ever subsiding. People say it will but they don't understand my pain. I'm so disgusted at "normals" and people who think they know. I am disgusted at how lacking so many people are in being supportive. We are the ones to suffer even more because of their in adequacy. Do I put the blame on them or on society? My life is over, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? It's not just the grief, it's all the other bullshit of my life.
I have come to the place where, for the most part, I can have little to no doubt that he is still alive just in different form and we can still have connection but it's just not good enough. I just don't understand why I have to be physically here without him. I don't care what anyone says, even him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to fucking die on me and leave me here. Life didn't have a plan B nor do I even want it. I just want this life to be over. I hate this. It is no fucking life at all. I want fucking OUT.
I told my therapist a month or so ago that if I had the opportunity to do hard core drugs, can't say without doubt I would do them but I sure as hell can't say I wouldn't. I feel like I can't make my life work. I've been in the twilight zone of grief and I want to take it to another one for a while. I don't know what else to do. "Normal" is over, gone, makes absolutely no sense to me anymore. It's all petty, pointless, and meaningless. I've been told I need to get involved in a cause that I can care about. I'm too tired. Sometimes I feel as though I'm working to prepare my death.
I think I'm still afraid I'm going to lose him. I lost him physically and that has killed my heart and ended my life. I can't bear any more. I've told my therapist I am not leaving my grief, it must leave me. That is the only place I know where to find him. Him dying changed absolutely nothing of how I feel for him, how much I need him. I just don't understand how I'm supposed to be okay. It's not okay how fucked up everything played out, let alone the mere fact that I lost him. I wasn't ready to say goodbye - i'll never be ready and I never will. It's like the prank that went bad, horribly bad, and life was the only one who got the joke.
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Comment by morgan on January 4, 2017 at 1:53pm
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Alice, thank you for hearing my pain. I am drowning in my sorrow and you couldn't have had any better perspective than saying that after four years if I am still so stricken then I will always be. That truly is a big part of it. I cant believe this can still be. Of course tied to that is having to endure/manage the actual physical/emotional repercussions of feeling so bad after so long. Probably having to understand/admit that this might still be early in my grief is unimaginable.
And I feel like a wild banshee in a jungle chasing a cheetah because I keep piling distractions on my plate in order to avoid the pitfalls. I chase them in order to distract myself because if I don't then I have nothing to occupy my mind and then the hole engulfs me. Even with that pursuit the hole engulfs me when it feels like it.
You have great wisdom when you speak of the floating layer. And the lack of access is slowly but surely killing me. It is not every moment of every day but it is enough where I am wondering who buried who.
Please know your note has helped. I am out of bed on my way to try and get something done for the day. Thank you from the bottom of my broken heart.
morgan
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I'm lost. What's the point? I've tried so hard to prop myself up and tell others that there is some sort of way to survive this grief. The roller coaster of having a few moments of heightened distraction, of pushing (forcing) myself and then the crashes of digging furiously as fast and as furious as I can into the hole of oblivion, crying, painfully, desperately has got to stop. I don't know how but this is not doable. This is not what is intended to be. I cant believe this is what I am destined to love until the unknown day of my release from this torture. This cannot be real. It cannot be true. Something is wrong with the universe. Something is terribly terribly wrong.
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Comment by rachel_micele on December 27, 2016 at 2:11pm
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It's ok Alice on the "poor correspondent". For normals their excuse is life gets busy; for us life got buried. For some reason that makes me think of Morgan's expression in pushing the mountain around the room. But at any rate, I'm glad you're still on the site and corresponding here.
The remaining years ... I had a birthday earlier this month and while on one hand I hated the day and just wanted to forget about it, on the other hand I found relief that I am one year closer to my death. But it pales in comparison when I look at how many years long that yellow brick road could be for me ... I told my therapist the lights are on but no one's home. But I realize the more accurate statement is the lights aren't even on. I really feel like a hollow, cold, empty shell. And phantom pains - deep, slicing phantom pains.
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