Everyone may get tired of hearing this, but you're going to hear it repeatedly until I just one day decide not to go there anymore....
I can't fathom dead. I can't. My mind just can't comprehend this, or it's refusing to adjust right now.
I don't understand how you can go from being sad, "I just feel so sad inside." to being dead, having no feeling, no life, a void blank slate, a shell cast aside. I can't wrap my head around the fact of his death.
I know on a cognitive logical, clinical level that he is dead, no vital signs and reduced to a pile of ash in a canister, but Dead is hard to grasp when, if you look at a picture of the person, alive, well, warm and real, seems to come to life in your memory. You can imagine the feel of their skin, feel the delight in their smile, in their silliness, you can hear their voice, their laughter, smell them even...but then you avert your eyes to another spot and that memory is replaced by something else and that sensation of the things around you notices the striking absence of that person.
They are no longer a person. They are no longer a presence in your life. My body notices it - like some sort of gravitational pull is missing when I'm wandering through this house. It was as though when he was alive he created his own pressure field in this house and I notice now that this pressure or presence is missing. The environment around me doesn't feel right. The air itself does not feel right. It's a horrible thing to adjust too.
If he's a spirit of some kind, or an energy or existing on some other plane of reality or whatever, then is he so light that I can no longer feel him in the same ways? It gets that sometimes I just want to keep my eyes closed because I can imagine how it used to feel to have him in the house, like the air was somehow displaced in a way, but that disappears the instant I open my eyes. It sucks. It really sucks to have someone so close to you die when you can't even fathom fully the stupid concept of dead.
I had a nightmare last night. I heard him crying out, he sounded like he was in pain. In my dream I sprang from the bed, opened the door to our bedroom and began to call his name into the darkened hallway, my voice was dream-voice, shouting but hoarse and whispered no matter how loud I tried to scream for him. I could feel the panic rising in me. I was startled awake by the sound of my own voice shouting out his name. I'm glad no one else heard me.
I think the dream was motivated by the whole heaven and hell suicide thing. Someone placed that ridiculous notion in my subconscious and with my inability to conceptualize fully the concept of dead, my mind is now grasping trying to process this whole thing. There is also that lingering fear I have that I can never know - did he feel any pain when he died, was he afraid as he sat alone dying.
You know, I said the other night, if I could have been there to hold his hand as he died, I would have been. I would never have wanted him to die alone, feeling unloved, unwanted, angry, sad and afraid. No one should ever die that way. I wrote to him and told him that even though I wasn't there with him physically as he faced death alone, I was always there with him in his heart - there was no way he could have ever kicked me out of his heart. I was there with him in spirit, stroking his face, holding his hand, letting him know he was not alone, that he was loved, that he was brave, that he was forgiven for wanting to leave me so early.
I don't know what little part of him my love couldn't heal, whatever it was, it was enough to make him choose death. It was a momentary lapse in judgement that overtook him and caused him to leave me. I'd like to think he doubted his actions. I'd like to think he thought of me and regretted his decision before he died. I'd like to think that what he went through in those final seconds caused him no pain...this most of all. I pray he did not suffer for any length of time. I've seen them suffer. I pray he went quick.
I can't get used to him not being here. I still bring my phone with me to bed, as though he'll text me to let me know he's on his way home after shift - if that phone vibrates at 2am at any point in the near future, I think I may just lose it.
We had my niece over last night, I made soup and placed four bowls at the table - she laughed at me and asked who else I was expecting and then realized and looked at me sadly. I was never a One, we were always Two - no wait, actually, together we were a One, so to be half just doesn't feel right.
Today is 36 days since he died. I crave for the physical stuff, hugs, snuggles, kisses, holding hands, touching one another, looking into his eyes and watching the muscles change in the hazel part of his eye as his focus changed - I used to love watching his eyes, they fascinated me to no end...sometimes in the right light, they looked a beautiful light green.
My sister made some joke about going to check out "hot guys" at some event and I almost got angry but held my tongue. I think she was actually serious though. Guys? Is that what I'm supposed to do now? Pretend that the last 20 years of my life didn't ever happen and just pick up like some 20 year old and start dating again? I can't imagine loving anyone else. I can't imagine being with anyone else. I can't imagine finding anyone remotely like him. My sister has never actually had a boyfriend, let alone been on a date with any guy in all of her over 40 years on this earth, so maybe it's just that difficult for her to even comprehend what I've lost and what I'm going through here.
Date? It doesn't seem right. It's not like I've gotten divorced or something. I'm not exactly young, but I'm not exactly old either, I'm right smack in the middle where most people my age have 10 - 15 year olds in their homes. Where guys who are single will come with "baggage" in the form of child support payments and will be struggling just to get by on their own. Don't I have this big black star pasted on my forehead now that says I'm a widow now, so keep away? I feel like some kind of leper. I feel like...well, like who would ever be interested in me ever again?
How in hell do you date? When do you date after your spouse dies? I can't see that. I don't know. It's like his dying is just some kind of test for me to demonstrate that I can live on my own, look after myself and cope. His death has just created the greatest challenge of my life, the challenge to survive and overcome something again. Again! AS if PTSD wasn't enough for fate to toss at me, they had to take my husband away from me too!?
He's dead. What's left of him is in a container down the hall. The physical him doesn't exist anymore. It never will again. He's a memory. Trying to accept this is a lot harder than it was to accept the deaths of my brother, my father and my mother.
I don't get it.