Comment

Comment by morgan on March 3, 2018 at 2:26pm

To Debbie and Becky and Gayle, Jennifer, Heather, Julie, Joe, Teresa, to the other Heather, Amanda, Joey, Dana, Renee, Kristin, and Elizabeth who have lost their spouse/partner. I watch as names appear on the community board when death has taken a piece of life and we try to go on. Each of us are reaching out trying to make sense of what has happened. Each of us are wondering how to reconstruct what we thought we had built and now it’s looking a lot like rubble. Each of us wants an answer. Some look to a godlike figure. Some can find help with counseling. Some have family or friends that provide support. Personally, I don’t see the rationale of a god. But I do feel there is something bigger going on that in our small little spot in this universe we are creating a ripple in the vibrations of the energy in the bigger expanse and I have to believe that the link we made with our spouse and their energy while we were together here we will somehow be linked up again. I have to believe that or I would go mad. That somehow the connections we are making while we are trying to reconstruct our smashed up small little world are part of some wider wave of the next step we take in reconnecting with our love. In my better moments that’s what I try to tell myself. In the not so great moments of which we all have surrendered ourselves to the most excruciatingly painful downhill slide into misery I barely breathe. I cry and cry and wish for the pain to stop.
This is a very different life than I had. For each of us the brain waves that change from one moment to the next take control of us. I used to think I made decisions. Now I am not so sure. I’m not so sure I am not fulfilling some sort of a contract with the universe and that this suffering is playing my bit part in some overall scheme of how we all live and die.
Look at cancers…..what are they? Why are they? ……..Look at the number of overdoses……the killings……car accidents…….health problems…..and suicide….. what is all this? What is it about how we die? And how those left behind are supposed to live?
I never thought too much about it before my own husband died and maybe there was a reason for that. Of course, I would not have changed a thing because I loved him that much. But how am I supposed to live now?
I’ve been asking myself that for years. To those who are just joining this website and those yet to come (because we know there will be more) I can only say I take it one day at a time. Sometimes barely one hour at a time and I grit my teeth and bear it the best I can. Sometimes I do better at it than others. I read a lot about the universe and what science has discovered and I try to connect to a more metaphysical space in my own head. Other than that, its hit or miss.
I don’t really want to say “welcome” to those I wrote this to but I will say we all feel your pain. What would be nice is if society at large would begin to recognize we are the walking wounded. Just a small acknowledgement that this is a ridiculously hard place to be and to accept us as we are. Sending out small points of energy to each of us to help us along in our unseen pain……..take care the best you can.

Comment by morgan on March 3, 2018 at 1:40pm

JenShep,
It reaffirms my mental state to hear someone else say how pathetic they think they are because they can’t seem to live in the present.  To "want" to be in the place of a cancer victim or a nuclear blast.  I can easily admit I have been there saying just that, so many times too.  
Problem is as I have gone through years of this I guess I kept thinking that somehow, some way I would think differently or at least enough to not have to endure the pain of how much I miss him.  I can’t.  Having passed five years of being without him I imagined some kind of change.  And yes, it has changed.  I am leaning towards tying up the affairs I have worked so hard to get in order and really taking the step I have considered since day one.  It's just it’s become a little more cemented in my mind that it is about the only way out of this pretend life I live.  
You could say, well, you've made it this far.....and that’s true.  But this is more than some kind of test of courage and endurance.  Like you, I just have not found a reason to continue the suffering (even if it is less often, which means I can go three days without a breakdown).  I am honest with myself and others. I don't need this pretense.  Because that’s all it is.  I am comporting to what society thinks I should be doing rather than what I want to do.  I want to be dead.  Not because I can’t live, but because my life is empty.  He was the light, I used, to see in the dark.  He was the hand that guided me over the rocks.  He was the only person who really gave a damn about me.  And I’m tired of pretending that anyone else has the time or energy to do the same and I certainly won’t be looking for it anyhow because no one could love me like he did.  I know that too.
So, I write here and work at my projects and talk to the few friends who still care enough to get me and help other people as I can but it’s just not enough.  Maybe that’s a selfish way to look at my blessings but the pain is still so unbearable at times.  I just want it to be over.

Comment by morgan on March 3, 2018 at 1:23pm

Bluebird,

Maybe I should have added more for context.  I believe overall the writer of the blog was saying how she constantly "feels" his presence but in an absent way.  I think she, like me, lives with the reminders of everything that she remembers doing with him and that feeling is ever-present but because she breathes she goes on in silence living beside his ghost because she has to, not because she really wants to.  Or at least when I read the whole thing that is what I got out of it.  

Just wanted to clarify because when I read stuff like this and it expresses how we all are living day to day in the present but that our past has such a strong hold on us it doesnt make me feel quite   as crazy as I feel like my life is.  

I never would have anticipated being this broken and yet appearing to others, now after this long, to look as though I am engaging in a normal life.  There is nothing normal about how I am living and I have to somehow either accept that this is the way it is going to be (because I know it is) or I do something that is unacceptable by "normal' standards.  Haven't really been able to decide and so I keep stumbling along like so many of us.  

Comment by Marjorie Willcox on March 3, 2018 at 5:54am

Also as Morgan, Linda & Bluebird.

Comment by Marjorie Willcox on March 3, 2018 at 5:53am

JenShep I feel exactly the same.

Comment by Linda Engberg on March 3, 2018 at 5:45am

Morgan,

Well here I am, another day without Julian, I will go through the motions again of living but inside I am slowly dying. 

Comment by bluebird on March 2, 2018 at 7:04pm

morgan,

That is lovely, albeit sad.  That woman is lucky that she feels her husband in that way, though. 

Comment by morgan on March 2, 2018 at 4:22pm

I really wish it was any different because I know my husband would not want to see me suffer so.

I read another website alot.  It is one where other widows blog.  Several of them have been doing this for years.  One at six years, another at five, a couple at an earlier time but there is a common thread that runs through them.  

I am going to take the liberty of pasting a small part of one of the writers on this website. I will only paste parts of it.....here it is:

Everything felt surreal. It still does...

because he doesn't 'feel' dead to me. Maybe it's because he is still 'present' in my life. My husband is no longer here physically, but he is 'here' - everywhere - all around me. His arms are still around my life. I can 'feel' him. Now, he is the soft breeze on my back. The warm sunshine - that dries my tears. The blue sky - that helps to ease my mind.......Every morning he is the warmth of my coffee - in my hand. On my way to work he is the big Peterbilt truck that passes by - and roars in my ears. At the market, after work, he is the beautiful red roses - calling my name. And, in the produce aisle, he is the big red radishes - catching my eye...

As I slowly head to the car, with my groceries in hand, he is walking right beside me - when, in fact, there is no one by my side. Once I load the groceries, he takes his spot in the car - I 'feel' him in the seat beside me. I sigh, and I sit for a minute. I feel his eyes fill with tears as I put my head on the steering wheel. He knows that I am broken; and there is nothing he can do to fix it.

Widowing is exhausting. But, like you, I don't have a choice in it. So, I lift up my tired head. I softly whisper to him and start the car. And, then, our song plays on the stereo - it is all he can do to let me know that I am not alone. I smile and thank him as tears stream down my cheeks. ....... Again, he is everywhere, and nowhere all at once.

At home, while I'm making dinner I absently stare into the pot of boiling water. As the water boils the bubbles pop; and, then, disappear. The bubbles turn into nothing, just like he did. Gone. It's like the bubbles were never there... They just disappear. Sometimes, it feels like he was never here either...

The day is slipping away and it's getting dark. After dinner, I stand alone washing the dishes; and, again, he is 'with' me. I 'feel' him. Then, at that very moment, I look out the window and there in the light of dusk is a hummingbird. I know. And, I smile. I'm thankful, really I am. But, in my heart, I feel guilty because deep down, it's not enough. My husband  can't give me what I want. I don't want him to be the soft breeze against my back or a damn hummingbird. I want all of him back - alive. I know that my heart wants, what it can't have. So, I just give in and I finish the dishes in silence. The only thing I can hear is the breaking of my heart.

And, once again, I've lived another day without him. And, like always, when I turn out the lights, I close my eyes and I ask him to lay with me because I still want his arms around me when I lay down in my empty bed.......

I hope the writer on this other blog doesn't mind I passed her thoughts along to all of you.  Today her words just hit me like a speeding freight train and I am not sure how I am going to continue but I still breathe.  Wishing I didnt.

Comment by JenShep on March 2, 2018 at 3:52pm

Linda and Morgan, I feel the same as you both. Every night I state my intention that I will die (an easy death hopefully since Tom's was so horrific) and be with Tom and that we will go on a great adventure together and never have to be apart again. I cannot for the life of me figure out what the point of my still being here is. When there's talk of nuclear weapons I say "please let it get me." I too would take cancer from anyone. Every time I feel a lump or a bump I think - let it be cancer! So many people fighting to stay alive and here I am not wanting to be. Life is so messed up. 

The other night I was thinking about how pathetic I must be that my life is nothing without Tom but that's just the way it is I guess. All I want is to be back with him and I think about how that will be the greatest day of my life. Not sure how much longer I can keep doing this... It really does get worse over time because we've been doing it for too long - the stamina weakens. A year and 4 months for me so far and it's unbearable. 

Comment by bluebird on March 2, 2018 at 3:46pm

morgan, 

Your words could be mine. {{{{{{hugs}}}}}}

• ‹ Previous
• 1
• …
• 70
• 71
• 72
• 73
• 74
• …
• 340
• Next ›
• Page