My husband died today

[Deleted member 12723]

I am listening as well. I think that sometimes the best way to support a person is sit by them and just listen:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

"I make everyone's lives miserable. I made his life miserable. Maybe you should leave. I made his life miserable and he killed himself because of me."

We had a fight last night. She's been here less than 48 hours and we had a loud screaming fight and I ended up so close to wanting to just die with him. I make her miserable. I do things that make other people mad at me. Maybe i do deserve to be alone in this life.

I ended up in a heap on the floor crying as loud as all hell for the whole world to hear, just screaming and screaming his name. I felt so alone in those moments. He wasn't here for me. He's never going to be here for me again when i need him to protect me from her. He's not here to mediate the fights anymore. He's not here to make her understand.

"I don't know how to handle you when you "get like this" so I'm just going to leave. I'm making you miserable." is what she said to me and I slammed my hand into the wall beside her head.

Why does everyone want to leave me alone? Why do they even bother coming in the first place if all they're going to do is abandon me? Maybe it's just better if no one ever comes around again. Maybe it's better for her to cut her losses and just move on with her life, it won't hurt her as much and she won't have to deal with my shit. I'm miserable all the time. I make things in her life difficult to deal with. I am "in the way" of the perfect relationship she wants with me. She wants her sister back - I never left.

Maybe she should just find someone else to replace me and leave me alone where I can't hurt her anymore.

It started over a fb post. I posted something paraphrasing her while we were out on our 'adventure' yesterday. She said to me angrily after she read it, "I didn't say that! Change that! Take that off of there!!" She wasn't just annoyed, she was immediately angry with me. I said, "It's just a fb post, who cares what you really said." and she came back angrily with, "I didn't say that!! Why would you put that on there!? You make me sound like a complete bitch!! I'm not a bitch. That makes me look like a horrible person. CHANGE IT!"

I couldn't understand why she was so upset over me paraphrasing her as saying "this sucks", I mean she didn't say it in those words but she did say that the place we were at was disgusting and the people were all ridiculous to think that this was a nice beach - it 'sucked'.

I said, "It's only fb. Who cares?" but it was all about how people are going to "see" her if I left the words up on my post. Literally, it said, "this sucks, where's the next park." THAT is what she was getting so bent out of shape about. I lost it on her because this was the second time that day I'd practically "ruined" her life. The first was when she turned right after my telling her to turn left and as she's turning I yelled, "Where are you GOING!? I said LEFT!" So she pulled over to the side of the road and blamed me for scaring her, after that it was repeated hearing, "I thought we were getting in an accident or something. You didn't have to yell at me like that you know." I wanted to just jump out of that car on the highway. I made her life impossible in those moments because I screamed at her for turning right instead of left - whoopee, I panicked. Of course I panicked, heaven forbid we go the wrong way and it end up being my fault because SHE turned the wrong way.

I lost it last night. Her reputation!? Who the f*ck cares about what you look like on FB? I knew her fb was all about how people see her - I'm such a caring, loving and giving person, I'm Mother Teresa! Like hell she is. She comes to my place expecting everything to be perfect and happy all the time - I'm not happy. I'm not. I'm downright miserable.

It kept running through my mind, "You were always such a miserable little brat." and I kept thinking maybe I've just always been a miserable person, maybe I am horrible, my family reminds me all the time how I was a miserable little brat when I was a kid. I'm 44 years old and I've had to endure 44 years of hearing that story over and over and over and over and it's thrown in my face each time I get even the least bit angry. I've always made their lives hell. I was a 'problem child' and they still treat me that way.

"this sucks, where's the next park." How in hell does that ruin someone's reputation? But no, it was all my fault that people were never going to be able to look at her the same again. So because I was refusing to change it she said, "Maybe I should just leave then,...." there were other words I didn't hear because I was screaming at her by then. Leave!? Over a fb post!? I just said, "It's fb!!!! No one cares! Fine, I'll change it, heaven forbid you look bad!!" but she kept on with the "maybe I should leave, you're miserable, I'm making you miserable." bullshit.

Threats. That's all I was hearing. I was hearing threats. I'm going to leave. What did he do? He left me. He didn't threaten but once and so subtly I didn't get it, here i was being threatened outright. "I'm going to leave you alone." that's what I was hearing. "You make my life miserable. You've always been a miserable brat." That's what kept running through my mind. I almost threw my ipod across the room. I screamed. Not words I just screamed. I got up and said, "Fine, you stay here, I'LL LEAVE! I'm going to my room, you can stay here and have your perfect evening without me interrupting it!" and as I ran up the stairs I screamed, "Heaven forbid I be MISERABLE and interfere in your PERFECT LIFE!"

Then started the cycle of "I'm a miserable person. That's why he died. I made his life miserable. PTSD makes me a miserable person. No one can deal with me. They're all going to end up killing themselves and it will all be my fault. I was miserable to him. He couldn't stand me anymore. I should just die like he did. Get rid of the problem and no one will ever have their lives ruined again."

I laid on my bed crying and crying, just wanting to die and so she did what she's best at - she chased me to throw more salt on my already bleeding wounds. I think it was just trying to re-direct my attention back to how much SHE was suffering because of me, she opened the door to my room and said in a pitiful voice, "I'm just going to go home then. I just make you miserable when I'm here." ARRRRGGGHHH!!!! Trying to turn it back on herself. Trying to make it about me being miserable BECAUSE of her!! Depressive f'ing thinking and it was a way worse trigger to me because he used to do the same thing when i'd get angry with him!!! So I stood up and slammed my hand into the wall beside her head and scream-cried hysterically, so she said, "See. I don't know how to handle you when you 'get like this', so I'll just go, I just make you miserable anyway." AGAIN!!!! I moved away from her then, I ran around to the other side of the bed because she was blocking the only exit from the room, I ran away from her and she chased me around to the other side of the bed, so I turned back at her - she was trapping me in a physical corner! She doesn't know anything about someone with PTSD.

I screamed at her again, "Get out then, just f*cking leave!! Just get out! I just make your life impossible! Just get out! He did. I made his life miserable, so he killed himself! It's my fault he died! I'm a miserable person, I just make everyone around me feel miserable!! Get out, go away, leave me alone!!!!" I took two steps toward her and she put her arms up to block me. Flashback to that day when the cop put his arms up to stop me from going to the car to my husband. I collapsed onto the floor. I started screaming and screaming and screaming at the top of my lungs.

She left the room. I don't know where she went. I was alone on the floor screaming and screaming as loud as I possibly could. I started rocking and trying to stop screaming but I couldn't and when I found a bit of my voice I started screaming his name over and over and over. It hurt so so much in those moments. I've never had pain that badly yet. I just wanted to jump out the window and die so I could be with him. My mind was racing trying to find a guaranteed way to die, whispering for me to find a knife or a scissors and just stab myself. Instead I just sat on the floor screaming his name over and over and over and saying I was sorry.

I am sorry. I am sorry that I hurt him so many times over the past 8 years. i always tried to tell him it was the PTSD, it wasn't me who got angry, it was the PTSD hijacking my ability to regulate my emotional response but I know I hurt him so many times. I know he felt like he was the one causing me to be miserable. I know I couldn't help the way I reacted to even the smallest things. I'd get angry at him. I'd get frustrated with him. I got angry with him that night when he needed me. I got frustrated that he couldn't just snap out of it and be happy again. I couldn't help him because he was triggering me. I kept thinking he's going to die, he has a heart problem, he's going to die and then struggling to tell myself that we didn't even know this for sure, he wasn't going to die - so while I'm trying to convince him of this, I'm also trying to convince myself that he's not going to die or have a heart attack. I was so triggered and overwhelmed. I just kept thinking, "they're going to fire him too. We're going to lose everything." and then he said those exact words and I lost it. I got frustrated. I shouted at him, "There's nothing wrong with you, please stop this!! You're fine. You haven't had a heart attack. You're not going to die!!!" Less than 20 hours later he was dead. He was dead and all I did was be frustrated with him for over-reacting to news that he may have had an enlarged heart.

I didn't help him to feel better. I tried. I tried as best I could. His ribs were bothering him still. I got him an air mattress. I got him off the hard floor where he was lying. In my head I was angry at him for lying on the floor, lying on the floor when you have sore ribs makes them worse. Maybe I was doubting his pain. Maybe I was blaming him for his own pain he was enduring. It didn't seem to be getting better. I got him an air mattress to try to ease his pain. I got him a warm sleeping bag to make him more comfortable. I added extra blankets to give him extra cushioning. I tried to make him feel better. I did all I could think of. I didn't know what else to do to stop him from obsessing over his pain, his heart and being a "ticking time bomb".

I did the best I could and he still died. I saved him for only 9 more hours and then he got up and left me for good. How did he get back there? How did he just leave our room and decide to go through with it?

I was annoyed that he woke up still going on and on about his rib pain and his heart. I thought he'd feel better after sleeping. I didn't hug him and coddle him and tell him it was going to be okay. I asked him if he wanted me to rub his back, he said no. I got up and went toward the washroom and I suggested he ask the Dr "tomorrow" if there was a possibility that he could have shingles. "there has to be some explanation why your pain isn't getting better." He got silent. He didn't say anything. I was trying to help him but was what I was saying just hurting him more? Was I being helpful at all or just making him more and more miserable?

My sister eventually came back in the room and put a cold cloth on my head and wiped my face and helped me get into bed. She gave me a bottle of water.

I screamed for almost an hour last night and then cried hysterically for another full hour before I was able to start to breathe normally again. I grabbed my ipod and sent an IM to a peer support friend from fb. We IM'd back and forth for at least another two hours before I finally felt calm enough to fall asleep.

I don't know where my sister went or what she was doing or how she was feeling. I needed him. I needed hugs. Is that what he was thinking in those hours before he died? Was I being too cold. I did what I could for him, I tried as much as I could to "be there" for him to make him feel better, I just couldn't stop the PTSD panic from getting in the way of my being able to hold him and comfort him enough. Did I make him feel unloved because I sure felt unloved after I got in bed and was left alone for the rest of the night. She didn't even come to check on me. I wasn't even sure if she was still here or if she'd just left and gone home.

Worse yet, I was afraid she'd killed herself somewhere else in the house. My peer support friend told me that I should go to check to make sure she was okay but I was so afraid to find her dead because of me, I just begged her not to make me go. She wanted me to go to check on my sister when all i was doing was trying not to move so I wouldn't die. It was there the whole night last night that incessant urge to just get up and kill myself.

I lie still. I let myself be overwhelmed and heavy so I can't move when it happens. I resist the urge to run and act. It is so strong, just so strong when I'm like that it takes every ounce of my being just to keep me on the bed and not moving. I was so afraid to move and find her dead or find she'd just up and left me like he did. I don't like looking out and seeing no other car in the driveway now. His car wasn't there that morning. His car was SUPPOSED to be there and it wasn't. He ran away from me. He ran into darkness. He ran into death because I couldn't be there for him anymore because of the stupid PTSD.

PTSD kills the people around me. I shouldn't be around people anymore. I don't want anyone else to die because of me. He needed me and I couldn't be there like I wanted to for him.

I've had 4 hours of sleep. I don't want to come out of my room today. I don't know if she's just going to end up going home today. I don't feel well. I don't want to see her leave me. I can't deal with anything today.

Tin I need you. I need you so much. I'm sorry I was such a burden on you, Tin. I'm sorry I wasn't the person you fell in love with anymore. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I wanted to help you, Tinny. I wanted you to be okay again. I didn't know how to help you, Tin. I let you die. You saved me so many times, how could I let you die!? I let you down, Tinny. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, Tin, please forgive me, please. I still need you, Tinny. I still need you. I've got no one.

I've got no one anymore. I hurt them all. I've got no one who can be here for me like he could. I'm all alone. I'm dying inside. I need him so much.

 

[scout86]

I shouldn't be around people anymore. I don't want anyone else to die because of me.

I don't know that this helps, but I felt the same way and thought the same thing when my friend shot himself 2 years ago. Eventually, I realized that I was engaging in a kind of magical thinking. That there's something about me so toxic that the few people I get close to die and it's all my fault. It took awhile, but I eventually decided I probably don't really have that much influence over other people.

There's a bunch of "what was he thinking/feeling?" stuff about your husband that you're never going to know. That's frustrating, but a lot of the time that's the way it is. You can torture yourself wondering and guessing, or you can find a different way to handle it. You don't deserve any more torture.

The relationship with your family is a problem. You've talked about that some and it sounds like your husband could see it. It's great that he ran interference for you. Maybe you can use some of his techniques and take over some of that for yourself. But you shouldn't have to defend yourself from these people. In fact, life is better if we don't surround ourselves with people we have to defend ourselves from. There's a comment that was made in another thread recently, that dysfunctional families are very inflexible and repeat the same cycles over and over, refusing to do anything else. Apparently "normal" families AREN'T that rigid. They adapt to where people are at now and support them through changes and changing needs and roles. I didn't grow up in that kind of family, so I'm not sure I get it. But it sounds like a great idea. When you don't get born into a functional family, seems like the best thing to do is surround yourself with the most functional people you can. Like your peer support friend. Your sister, and probably the rest of your family, have their own agendas and, for their own reasons, they "need" you to be who they've always thought you were. It's not going to be about you, because that's not the way they operate. Right now, you have enough to deal with it would be hard to have anything left over to deal with them. Right now, you need and deserve sincere support from people who actually care about you.

Sorry this has been such a mess! (I wish there was an easy way to fix it. :() :hug:

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug:

 

[Heather]

@gizmo...I don't think anyone could have said it better...that's what most people want/need is to be listened to and felt like they've been heard/validated.

My heart goes out to you medic

:hug: @Medic72

 

[NarcSis]

I'm exhausted. It was a long night last night. It was a hard day to get through today. I woke up and cried several times again this morning. I hugged on his blanket and pleaded with the universe to bring him back because I needed him so much. I stayed in bed so I wouldn't have to face my sister - so naturally she stayed in bed too. I finally got out of bed around 230 in the afternoon because my breathing was rapid, shallow and felt strained. My heart also felt like it was beating up a storm and was doing crazy flip-flops in my chest - my blood sugar was quite low, I needed food.

I woke up, went downstairs, stuffed a handful of cereal into my mouth and then laid down on the couch. I promptly fell asleep again there, cuddled against the cushion where he always used to sit. My heart has been aching all day; like seriously aching and it scares me. I've never felt pain like this before, my entire body, every single muscle just hurt today.
I didn't bother to shower today, just didn't have the energy for it. My sister came down around 3pm and sat silently on the chair beside me. I wanted to scream at her again but instead I just whispered, "I'm sorry." I don't know what I was supposed to be sorry for but I always have to swallow something down and take the blame, so why not. She immediately launched into an, "I'm sorry, it's my fault. I get so emotional around this time of month. I get grouchy and angry and I shouldn't have come here when I'm like this. I knew this was going to happen."

And yet did nothing to stop it from happening - but I'll just leave that alone.

I suffer each and every time this happens. It's like having a dagger driven into me and those wounds don't heal. It hurts even worse now. All I want to do is die when I get that worked up now. I just wanted so badly to get up and stab myself with something, anything, just get something in there and twist it enough so that no one could save me. I just wanted my blood to spill like his did all into his car. I just want this pain to go away. I just want all of this hardship I've faced since PTSD to just go away. I just need it all to just go away and leave me be. ..let me be with him again.

My sister made us breakfast in the middle of the afternoon. It took a very long time before I felt good enough just to sit up. By evening I was sitting up and things were sort of working their way out, we were talking again as though nothing had happened but my heart was still afraid, still wanting to scream and continue crying for my loss. I still thought of him every second and saw him in everything I looked at. I still wished I could just have him wrap his arms around me.

It hurts so bad. It just hurts so badly. I wish I could just sleep for the next three days.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug::hug::hug:

 

[NarcSis]

We went shopping today and then we got some fast food and drove around to find a nice park to eat it in. Ahhh, that would explain the stomach issues I'm having right now. I'm trying to be okay, I'm trying not to lose it over little things. I have to keep reminding myself that I am the only one who can control how I react to things and so there is no need to scream over tiny little insignificant things like her not completely stopping at a stop sign or automatically assuming she's turning one way when we need to go in the opposite direction. You know, the little things that my brain interprets as potentially dangerous and just goes over the ledge about...because they are dangerous....

I've been "little" a lot today, mostly it's to help deal with the stress - being in a loud and crowded mall when I'm a little jumpy today. I'm not "little" in public, I'm only "little" in the car with her, the good thing is, she totally plays into it. I say something like, "I not feewing well." and she replies with, "Oh-oh, why come you not feewing well?" She won't yell at a little kid and she won't expect me to be big. It helps me to justify being so anxious - little guys can't handle everything so it's okay for them to be scared and upset.

I still get "little" with him too. He always stayed big though and he never spoke to me like he was talking to a kid, he spoke like a dad, an In Charge person and sometimes if he just wasn't in the mood for it, he'd say something like, "Well, little people have to eventually learn to be big and solve their own problems." I knew on those days I was getting no sympathy for my issues, so I'd swallow them down and try to push through as best I could for his sake.

I wish there were words that meant more than just "I miss you." because I miss you just doesn't even cut it. It doesn't even approximate what this is I'm feeling or going through. It was like when I'd say to him, "I love you" what I felt was just way more than a simple I Love You, it was on a trillion different planes all at once, so much deeper than the word itself that I can't even fathom how to express that.

Some days I'd just lay on his tummy staring up at him, examining his skin, his eyes, his nose, his eyelashes, just everything about him and he'd be playing his video game overtop of me not noticing me - or, at least, ignoring me. I was just so enamored of him. Of every single solitary cell in his body. Staring at him fascinated me. What made him, him? What was that that was deep in him? Whatever it was, I loved it, I was fascinated by it and I was just at a loss to explain how looking at him, so fascinating in his uniqueness could cause me to feel something so spiritual. It was beyond the concept of simple love however magical that sounds, this is how I felt about him. Eventually he would look down at me and say, "What? What are you looking at me like that for?" and usually I'd reply with, "Nothing, I just love you." and he'd get this shy grin on his face and continue playing.

I think what I was seeing was life in it's purest form. His skin, so alive, so knitted together, so complex and yet, so simple. Was the He, that he was in his brain? In his heart? Or in the sheer make up of each of those cells from skin to hair to blood? Where did "he" live in that body? In the eyes? His eyes held so much light. I loved his eyes. I could stare into his eyes forever but he once told me it was creepy for me to just stare at him like that, so I only did it once in a while. Imagine, my fascination with his life force being creepy! I loved him.

The void created by his absence is something that I will never fill. The pain created by the way he left is something I don't know if I will ever heal from. That pain is still so raw and so just below the surface at a drop of a hat.

I miss him so much.

 

[Sighs]

Hugs if you accept them.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

Today was a "relax" day in a way. It was national indigenous day so sister and I listened to music, put up the "pool" (it's a kiddie wading pool) and just enjoyed the sunshine. My cousin made me a little Tin Man out of cans, duct tape and spray paint that now sits on my patio - each time I look at it I think, "Hi Tin. I wish it was really you."

I was making a fried bread that we call "scone" and I thought about a time just a few weeks before he died when I asked him if I should make chili for supper and he'd replied with, "And scone?" I laughed at him and made it just to make him happy.

I look back now and I realize that I was doing everything for him, to make him happy, to keep his life unencumbered by the little inconveniences. I kept his house for him. I was his housewife. That was my new role and I was just finally stepping into it and accepting it when he died. Now I have no one to "look after" and I see no point anymore. I clean the house for the sake of the house. I eat to keep hunger at bay. I don't eat to please me, I merely eat to stop the hungry feeling. I remember to drink water because it is necessary, not because I genuinely like water. Everything now is just so void of meaning.

I tried to be as happy as I could today for my sister's sake, but yeah, it was a boring day and I know she would have rather run off somewhere to "celebrate" with others in a crowd of loud people. I just could not do loud today nor do I think I can do it this week at all. These are the things hubby knew and accepted as part of adjusting to what I'd become after PTSD and quite frankly, we'd never really been loud crowd people anyway, so it wasn't that huge an adjustment for us. My sister on the other hand used to be the voice that would beckon to come out to play and we'd go somewhere, do something, usually with a crowd and loud music or chatter. Despite my telling her that I have to take recovery time from things when they happen, she still doesn't quite grasp how deep that goes - in her head I should be ready to jump up and run to "play" the next day. I can't. Sometimes it can be a week and yeah, I can be pretty boring by her standards.

Husband never minded boring. We'd sit together and watch movies or we'd cuddle together watching funny animal videos on youtube. I remember one night, after a particularly bad exposure session, I came home and was exhausted and crying repeatedly. He brought his laptop up to the spare room where I was hiding and he sat on the floor beside the bed and we proceeded to watch 3 hours of funny kitten videos. It helped me to recover so much, I always remembered that day and was struck with just how much he loved me and cared for me. The things I was going through had to have hurt him deeply.

I am a handful now, if I was a firecracker before, I'm a spring loaded weapon now. I can be set off in the blink of an eye. I do my best to control it but sometimes I'm just not capable of reeling it in. He took a lot of the brunt of that. I always felt badly because he had no one to turn too. He had no one to talk too about what was going on in this house. He always refused to admit that it hurt him, he'd just shrug his shoulders and say it was fine. I took a lot of stuff out on him. If I couldn't find the keys, I'd be swearing, stomping, throwing things and just downright moody and I could see the look in his eyes, he'd be afraid, walking on eggshells and getting frustrated. I had this thing about driving places, I didn't want to be the cause of his death - heaven forbid we get in an accident with me driving and he were to be killed, I'd never be able to live with myself, so when I was driving I was always afraid and anxious. When I was driving alone I was fine to a certain extent, less anxious and more confident because in my head it never mattered if I died. He was precious cargo and that alone was enough "pressure" to generate stress in me.

I always asked him if he thought he should speak to a counselor or someone about our home situation and whether it bothered him, I was never naive to the fact that I was not an easy person to live with anymore. The sad thing is, he hated counselors, he always said that they were stupid and missed the point when he spoke - it makes me wonder if he didn't go through EAP at some point and they misunderstood him, which would explain the books on saving your marriage and steps to take before divorce. I never considered divorce, I never thought we were that bad - but did he? Was I being "abusive" to him emotionally? Fact is, I am no longer an easy person to live with and for him to have gone so long before the stress started to get to him ( assuming I was the cause of some of that stress), well, it speaks to the kind of person he was.

I loved him. I never wanted to lose him. I don't think he thought he could die. We took this ridiculous online quiz one time about what supernatural creature are you and his came out Undead, where mine came out Werewolf. He loved that concept of being Undead, he'd say things like, "That's why I'm always cold." or "I could never die, I'm already dead." He had a t-shirt that said Undead on it. He got pretty into zombies and zombie lore. You wonder if on some level he kind of hoped he would survive that shotgun blast and find that he could not be killed. In retrospect, I wish it had happened.

I'm sad just below the surface all the time now. Every single day. I could be smiling or laughing at something and another part of my brain is sad and thinking, "He's not even here to see this." and then a sadder part of my brain whispers, "He'll never be here again." And then I have to consciously try not to acknowledge those little voices and concentrate on what it was I was laughing at and I feel guilty because I feel like I'm attempting to just sweep all that sadness aside and not deal with it.

Oh what I would give just to put my head on his chest again and have him wrap his arm around me. That can never be replaced, even if I find another person to do it, it won't ever be exactly the same, you know? It won't be him. I'm always going to mourn him. He took me through adulthood, he made me the adult I am and we went through so many good and bad experiences together. We were always together. Tied at the hip. Holding hands in our sleep. Kissing good morning every day. Hugging incessantly. It just feels so unfair that despite all that love we had together, it wasn't enough to keep him here with me.

I hear, "he had his own demons he was dealing with and it had nothing to do with you or your love." but no one can say one way or another what he was dealing with. He never told me. He never told anyone. If there were demons, they were really good at hiding. I know for sure, one demon was his heart. What happened at work we'll never know.

Oh poor husband, what made you put a gun to your side? What was so bad? How brave you had to have been in those moments to know you were about to face something that even you could not fathom. Why weren't you afraid then? Why couldn't you just back down? Why couldn't you just turn that car around and come back home to me? I needed you here with me. I need you here with me, husband. I still love you so much. Please feel my hugs.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Medic72 No he will never be replaced and I remember feeling this one so much, that is why keeping his shirt to cuddle was and is still important to me.

I think you are grieving and mourning the loss and are so normal to what you are currently experiencing. The first year is the hardest. I still have days when I miss my husband so much and want him back. I do not think that I will ever get over my loss although I have closure and peace now.

I think that you are far better than you think you are and not as bad as you think you are. I too had three years of regrets and what ifs.:hug: