My husband died today

[scout86]

you just want to grab someone, drag them home and snuggle them or desperately run out and buy a pet.

I have kind of mixed feelings about saying this. I know that feeling (and I can really relate to this part of what you're going through). Attempts to deal with that kind of feeling got me in to a couple really bad relationships. Take your time. It will get better.

How would you feel about taking on creating a support group yourself? I can see you doing it, even though parts of it might be hard. I think you've got what it takes to do it. And, you've got contacts. You know people who've been affected by suicide and you know people who know people. I think there might be a lot of possibilities and I don't think you need your sister to do it.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

I felt like a huge part of me had been amputated when my husband died and I am sad that you are getting insenitive comments here and there. Most people just do not know how to deal with a violent death unless it has happened to them and then they can understand and support you better. Just my two cents.

I think that you are doing the best you can with managing everything and understand your losses. It is such a bad shock and so surreal. Baby steps and lots of self care, Eat and sleep as you are able.

You are going to get through this and it will get better eventually but it sure sucks that it takes time passing and lessons to learn to get there.

Thank you for sharing your honest feelings and thoughts. I am so proud of you for the way you are venting out your grief. Hugs.

 

[NarcSis]

@scout86, I have no faith in my own abilities, it's something I've struggled with all my life, really, a complete lack of self confidence, much deeper since the wounding of PTSD. I would love to start a support group for spousal survivors of suicide in my local area, but I think first I need to work up the courage to approach a local organization or service. It's important for it to start local and stay small or just include emergency responder families. I think I'd prefer that, first responder families, to be able to talk to their spouses, their siblings, help them deal with what they're going through. If I could start a charity and get some money to host a retreat, that would be even better. Again, I have some great ideas, but no guts to back them.

I can spew ideas like there's no tomorrow but when it comes to putting my money where my mouth is, I usually turtle up. It's the social anxiety, always gets me every time. i try as hard as I can to fight against it, but for the most part, I can't stand up to it. I may try my local community service organization since I'm planning to attend a work from home session there on Monday.

I know there are many first responder spouses out there who've suffered suicide loss, hell, there were two others in our area in the days after my husband died and since then, there have been at least three more in the province alone...and that is not including the two I'd known of before my husband died. Something needs to be done to help those of us left behind. We're not okay and this is not just a regular loss, I just don't know how to get in contact with those other families without feeling like I'm intruding on them or interrupting their grieving process. I don't want to come across as a busy body know it all. I just want other people to talk too who are in my same shoes.

Sigh. I'm doing a lot of writing today. I have this urge to go out, but I think I should wait until it's much warmer, besides, there's a lot of ice falling from the trees today, so not a safe idea. Still feeling alone and getting kind of bored. I may go putter around in the basement sorting through his things again for a bit. Wish me luck.

 

[NarcSis]

@gizmo, thank you for your hugs and supportive advice through all of this, I really appreciate your words, they help me to feel normal despite how abnormal all of this is. It's so good to share with someone who understands the loss. Big Warm Hugs to you.

 

[stillstanding2]

@scout86, I have no faith in my own abilities, it's something I've struggled with all...

Your being pretty hard on yourself today, ma'am. I think the idea of contacting some of those other first responder families is a good idea. How would you feel if some of them contacted you? They may feel as isolated and lonely as you feel, with no more support than your community or area offers. Yours could be the most welcome call to them. They may not feel able to take charge of organizing a group either, but as a small team, you might just create something special that seems sadly lacking. Just a thought, but there could be a family having the identical thoughts to yours and wishing for help. Some may be less able than you are in coping with the loss.

Take care. Sending you warm wishes.

 

[stillstanding2]

I'm doing a lot of writing today

And you are an excellent writer at that. And you've referred several times to your art work. Maybe you said at some point, but I missed what kind of art you enjoy. Painting, sketching, sculpting? Have you considered resuming art for your own enjoyment?

The reason I ask is that I recently resumed figure drawing after a long absence from it. I've surprised myself at how quickly my old experience is coming back, and I think I've actually acquired a better eye, though my real vision has suffered. My city offers drawing sessions with live models for a nominal fee, and I've found that making myself go out to those sessions gives me more satisfaction than I remembered. The environment in the sessions of course is quiet during the poses, with socializing possible only during the breaks, so it is not overwhelming chatter. And there is every level of practice, from total beginners to devoted professionals, to share the experience.

Of course none of this has to do with PTSD, except that the mild acceptance among the artists is very calming. I'm sure if you have had that experience in the past, you know what I mean. You might surprise yourself, maybe even begin to know fellow artists that you can talk with. Just another idea. I'm not a professional artist, but my therapist insists I could be, and that always is good to hear. Take care. We're thinking of you.

 

[Gadgie]

sad that you are getting insenitive comments here and there.

I know what you mean about insensitive comments being made, as when my Dad passed, many years ago, I remember hearing some really insensitive comments being made at the house, after his funeral. I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I just had to say something.

My mother tried to stop me because they were made by a church person, (my Dad was a non stipendiary priest) the Bishop wasn't pleased either about what was said, or my reaction?

But what he said wasn't respectful, and I reminded him of where he was, I had to leave after that, as I had lost my temper and couldn't calm down.

But when my wife passed last year, I never had contact with anyone to share my grief with, and no body came to see me. So I never got to hear what anyone had to say, perhaps that's just as well.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Medic thank you so much for what you said to me because it means so much to me. Great bug warm hugs to you as well.

 

[scout86]

I have no faith in my own abilities,

I know., and I think that's sad. I have faith in your abilities. And your Tinny did, and so does the rest of the gang here. I also know it's not all that easy. But you're totally right, it's a worthy cause and someone needs to take it on. You may be one of the someones. I think @stillstanding2 has a great idea in reaching out to one of the survivors you mentioned. Think about picking one who seems approachable and ask it they'd like to get together for coffee somewhere. Pick something not too far outside your comfort zone and see where it goes. (Think of this as "encouragement" not "pushing" ok?)

 

[NarcSis]

Your being pretty hard on yourself today

I actually don't think it's being hard on myself at all, rather just being real and accepting my limitations. I know that I have never really had faith in any of my abilities, it's sadly a lesson learned over years of failures and roadblocks, after a while you just don't want to push the limits anymore. I know it took a lot to become a medic, I was socially anxious back then because I went from a town of 500 people to a city of over a million, so talking to strangers wasn't exactly my strong suit. I had to put on a whole different personality and after a few bad calls and some instantaneous maturation, that persona stuck to me like a skin. I don't have that persona to hide behind anymore and without it, it's hard to know how to be in social situations....there's no more uniform to hide behind....now there's no more husband to hide behind either. I'm totally exposed and feel vulnerable constantly. It really sucks.

How would you feel if some of them contacted you?

I would love that, it would make it so much easier for me. I'm not the kind to reach out to strangers, it takes so much prodding and convincing to just start an online crisis chat with someone. I still have not called an actual crisis line "just to talk". There is something about using that phone that scares me, I don't know what it is. I get instantly anxious when I have to make a call. Taking that burden off of me and actually calling me, hey, that I could deal with. I'm not a leader, I'm a follower and a great support person. Ever since my trauma I've also had an issue with taking responsibility for anything, it's a huge issue that needs working on.

Have you considered resuming art for your own enjoyment?

I have actually started a painting and I've been slowly working away at it which is strange for me. Usually I get lost in my paintings and finish one or two in a day, but this one is sort of an easing back into it after a few months of absence. I don't want to overwhelm my brain by pushing it, When I get tired or can't think about color choice or planning anymore, I just stop and walk away from it. I've been task switching a lot recently. I do something until I feel myself feeling out of balance, then I'll switch to something else - watching tv, painting, reading (really difficult right now), listening to music or household chores.

Mostly I'm writing. I'm writing in here, sometimes two times per day, sometimes once, but I'm also blogging and writing in my offline journal. It's all about going over the incident and examining my reactions as they arise. I think it's good to let it out of me as it comes up. It's nothing concise or organized like book-style writing, it's just pouring emotion and reaction onto pages - and yes, there have been PAGES filled already and a lot of it is repetitive; the unanswerable questions.

Take today for instance, I was sitting on the couch watching television when I reached over unconsciously to where his hand used to be. I looked down when I realized what I'd done and cried, but I left my hand there and tried to remember what it felt like to hold his hand. It was almost like I could feel his hand in mine and it was actually really comforting. Then I remembered that morning and him asking me if I needed anything - did I sound pee'd off so early in the morning when I said no? Was there another answer I was supposed to have given? Did I even hear his question right??? Again, things I can never know...besides, he already had the shells, he was already going to die...he just needed that last little push, so he likely designed the question to get the answer he wanted. We do that when we're in the grips of depression. We look for the things that support our side, we don't look for ways out.

I was tidying and found the shotgun cleaning kit spread out on the floor of the basement near the exercise equipment. He cleaned the gun. He cleaned it to make sure it would fire and there would be no chance of a mistake. How depressed do you have to be to perform such complex acts before heading out to kill yourself? When I wanted to die - or when I get those strong urges to die, usually for me, it's an instantaneous thing - I want to run to my vehicle and just smash it into something without a seatbelt on, or I want to run to the basement and hang myself with some of the highly available yards upon yards of emergency rope my hubby collected. It's always been an instantaneous urge that I had to fight with, it was never something that I needed to take too many steps to accomplish. I know one night I went to bed after a "fight" with him and I took three times the normal dose of my sleeping pills because I didn't want to wake up in the morning - in fact, I didn't, I woke up in the afternoon and he never even noticed this was strange. I never told him about that one, I just let him assume I "needed to sleep".

I think if the shoe had been on the other foot and it had been me who died, he would have been just as shocked and unprepared for my death. He never would have seen it coming because those two times, he had no clue and he was here in this house with me both times. I remember sitting in the basement, that scene from my trauma repeating over and over in my head because of the exposure therapy, a noose around my neck and leaning forward cutting off my air supply. I remember how it hurt but my need to have the replay in my head stop was just too strong. I just wanted a moments peace from my own head, I just wanted someone to understand what I was going through and help me. All that time, my husband was sitting up in the livingroom on his computer, completely unaware that I was in the basement crying and trying to die. I remember thinking, if he comes down the stairs now, I'll sit back up - he didn't. I chickened out. Maybe it was just a stupid romanticized idea about him coming downstairs to save me but when he didn't even care that I'd been gone for so long and he knew I was upset, it said to me that I would just die if I kept going....I didn't want to die, I just wanted someone to help me. And there, a door opened to allow me to escape the death trap.

I didn't want to die. I just wanted an end to feeling helpless and having that call replay over and over in my head. I wanted peace again. He wanted an end to his physical pain and he wanted an end to the stress in his life....he took the only door he could see....but because I had those stupid little "conditions" that if X happens then I won't die, it makes me wonder if he did too....and I answered wrong. He wanted to die. I didn't. I was the chicken, he was the brave one because you have to be pretty brave to do that, stand up to greet death, take it head on, you have to be some kind of angry and some kind of lost to be able to stand up and say, I'm not afraid of this right now.

He left the house. He did that because he didn't want me more traumatized than I already am. I know this in my heart for some reason, I can't know that, but I do. It would just be like him to consider me in that way because he loved me and his fight wasn't about me, it was solely about him. He picked out the right shells, He cleaned his gun. He left the house and drove away. These are complex actions. Anger and depression are so transient, we move in and out of them so quickly, it's obvious that he didn't once change his mind or have a single second thought about what he was doing. One flaw in his plan? If he was trying to make it look like a homocide then why did he use his own gun - I think his faulty logic failed there. Besides, who would even kill him? We don't have friends, we don't have enemies that we know of...other than the one guy who threatened his life and was released from prison four years ago, but we don't even know where that guy is, for all we know he's back in prison! Nope there was no indication of homocide in my head.

I've sent an inquiry to yet another organization for a service dog. I'm thinking if I have a dog to watch for me, then I won't be up so late at night. I won't be afraid to get out of the house, go to the park or do things on my own, like go to the mall or walk around the neighborhood. I wouldn't be lonely and I'd have someone to help me break my trigger episodes - which oddly have been mostly frustration since my hubby died. I'm afraid I'm going to get turned down again. I hate getting my hopes up. I was also told I could ask for a companion dog too if I just wanted a trained dog to walk with and keep me company. I'm not sure which dog I'd need because if I get a job I'd need to take the dog with me to keep me on an even keel when I get triggered, I don't think they'd appreciate me bringing a companion dog.

I need something right now to help me through this. The lonely sad spells are getting worse. I keep being afraid to reach out to people for fear of inconveniencing them and besides, what do I say exactly? I feel like a crying piece of lonely crap and I just want someone to listen to me cry??? I know you are there with your happy loving family but can you ditch them to come watch me cry for a few hours? I can't think of tasks, it seems like people want to be assigned some kind of task to do for me - can you come over and make me supper? Can you come over and do my laundry? What kind of woman would I be then? What do I need from people? Which people do I ask?

It's tiring to have people come over and talk to me. A lot of times they don't want to talk about "it", they want to distract me, i don't want to be distracted anymore. I play okay. it's instinctive now for me to hide how I'm really feeling, so I come across as "doing well", "in control" and "fine". But really, I'm not and I don't know how to express that to people without making them severely uncomfortable and having them run away and never come back. Also, a lot of them don't understand the PTSD, I'm not just dealing with my husbands death by suicide, I'm dealing with PTSD symptoms at the same time - I still have to control for my triggers, I still have to muster up the courage to go to these people to "meet up for coffee" and it takes a lot out of me AND being in public prevents me from being emotional because i paste on "fine" face, so it really defeats the purpose of trying to be real with people.

I'm okay, I'm not fine. I'm up and down. I cry every day a few times a day. I'm trying not to get lost in it but it's really hard. I want people near me and I want them to stay away at the same time. I want to hear a voice but I'm afraid to call them. I am really raw and I can't take rejection right now, it hurts too much on top of the hurt I'm dealing with right now. I'm cautious about reaching out to guys - guys and emotional women - it's usually a bad scenario. I don't want to end up having to tell someone off because I'm grieving I'm not looking for the next warm body to fill my bed. I don't want to even get into that situation. I think a dog would be the safest bet for me, he won't fall in love because I'm fragile and crying, he'll fall in love because I feed him, lol.

My husband killed himself. I still don't get it. I just don't. He's never coming home again. He's dust in a container. I still don't fully comprehend this situation I find myself in yet. How long until the lid blows off of this?

 

[Gadgie]

Quote....."Sigh. I'm doing a lot of writing today. I have this urge to go out"

I used to be exactly like that when I used to write, I had to type like crazy to get it all down before my brain forgot it all, then go back and fix all the spelling mistakes.

When I first got my lap top, I used to sit out in the summer house, and type away. It was great, especially if it was raining, and I could hear the pitter patter of the rain drops as they hit the roof.

It's just a shame that the urge to write has left me altogether now?

 

[NarcSis]

Tonight I'm dealing with the fact that I'm all alone in the world now. I know I've been through this before with the PTSD but I wasn't truly alone, I had my husband and my sister (kind of) to support me. Now I've got a sister who in a chat session, you say you're feeling low and crying a lot and about ten minutes later, she's completely forgotten and she makes some insensitive comment that just makes you feel completely alone and misunderstood in this world. He was always there for me when she'd get like that, her slinging mud and making me feel worse, even inadvertently because I'm sure anyone with a brain wouldn't be so insensitive. He was always there to dry my tears and make me feel loved and accepted and understood and now there's no one to turn too.

I'm trying to deal with being so damned lonely. Reaching out to people and feeling like you've just been caught with your hand in the cookie jar and experiencing guilt for reaching out to "bother" them in the first place...so you stop reaching out and you just wish someone could hear you crying and just reach in for you. I have no one and it really hurts. There's no one to witness my tears, hold me and tell me it's okay to feel lonely. There's no one to come and sit with me and talk about him with. There's no one.

Sure his mom calls at least once a week but she's a lot like my sister, she does all the talking and she doesn't let you express yourself - heaven forbid you get emotional. I have no one to just sit down with and talk about him with. To tell our stories too. To even complain about the things that he used to do that used to P me off. There's no one to witness my guilt for how distant we really became, or at least, I felt we were becoming at times. There's no one to bear witness to my pain at losing the only person who I ever felt cared fully about me in my life. He was my witness all these years, and now, he's just gone.

I've been crying a lot this evening. The pain of being alone just rips into me and sears into my heart and it scares me. I then worry that I might have a heart attack and I try to make myself stop feeling the pain....but it comes out again later and I just can't stop it. This is the dam I was afraid was going to break. I'm trying to shore it up and let it out in manageable bits but I don't know how long I can do it. I just want to lay down and stay there for a few weeks. I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm alone for the first time in my life.

I've left messages for people. I reached out like I'm supposed to do when I'm in pain. I've received no replies. I wanted to reach out to those other peripheral people who offered help but I don't know them all that well and i wouldn't even know what to ask them or what to say to them. My "friends" who all rushed to my side and made me believe that I was going to get through this okay because I had all this support are all gone now, disappeared back into that woodwork they came out from. I can't believe no one even just answered me to say they were busy! Or even a lame excuse like their battery was dying or something. No one.

I was going to call a crisis line, but what would I talk about with them? What do I say to them? I had a bad experience with them not knowing what the hell to do for me when I was going through the PTSD initially....one girl got frustrated and said, "Well, what do you want me to do!?" and I almost slammed down the phone. I've been afraid of crisis lines since then. I have never called back again. I'm afraid to get that same reply - what do you want me to do? I don't know, that's why I call - for help! If i knew, I wouldn't need help now would I??

I got out of the house today. I went to a workshop on work from home information. It was two hours of going over a handout - I could have just taken the handout and read it myself, all of the information and vetted websites were in it already. Sitting through the workshop was sort of a waste of my energy. I know this because when I got home I felt like I'd just finished an 8 hour day of work. I was exhausted.

And there is likely why I'm so over spilling on the emotion tonight. My internal resources are taxed to their limits.

I also got an email being invited to interview for a service dog - yay, power of social media, you bitch about not getting one in a blog post and next thing you know, the places you applied too are inviting you to interview. I had to email back to ask who they were because they seemed to assume I'd know them and considering I'd just emailed yet another organization yesterday, I thought it was them but I'd only asked them for an application, not an interview. Regardless, I may get an interview for a service dog. I'm hoping the interview comes to me or can be done over the phone because I'm going to be nervous as hell if I can't find someone to go with me.

I'm stuck on the inevitable Why every time i think of my husband being dead. Why did you shoot yourself is one question but Why did you want to leave me is another one. I was devoted to him. I was happy to wake up to him every morning. I waited anxiously every day for him to come home from shift and I'd be like a puppy, running to the door to greet him. I missed him when I wasn't with him. I made him his breakfast, I served him his meals, I cooked his favorite foods - just everything I did, I did to try to keep him happy and so he wouldn't have to worry about anything while he was home. But he did anyway and it took him away from me. He'd ruminate over things that happened at work. He'd withdraw into his computer games and shut me out. I'd sit patiently waiting for him to come back to me and sometimes I'd get resentful and wish I had a keyboard attached to my chin so he'd at least be looking at me.

I noticed last fall that he no longer seemed to care when I came or went around the house - and yet, when I'd leave to go to my sister's for a visit, he'd text me non-stop about things around the house, "where is this?", "how do I do this?" or "'I'm lonely." or "I hurt my X" and yet, when I was in the house with him I felt I was no more than a shadow for the most part. I also noticed that when I'd get back from these trips out, I'd come through the door and there would be no one there to greet me. No hugs. No "Hi how was your trip?" No word at all, he'd just be sitting there in that trance like state playing on his computer or watching a movie. He was pulling away from me.

He always said he used that computer to "decompress". Ever since I'd known him, he had a computer game system of some sort set up in front of the tv. Sega genesis. Playstation. X-box. Eventually a laptop and an ipod. He used them less when I first moved in with him but eventually he went back to them. There were days off when I didn't actually see him because he'd be shut away in his computer room playing his marathon game sessions. I guess, in a way, I'd actually been alone longer than I give myself credit for.

I feel like an ass for saying this because he's not here to defend himself anymore but I think I invested more in the relationship than he did. Hugs, kisses, most of that stuff was initiated by me to reassure him that he was loved and cared for and I was always worried about that One Day when either of us could die. I wanted there to never be a doubt that we had love between us. It was important to me because I'd lost a brother without being able to say goodbye or tell him how much he meant to me.

I loved my husband with everything I had. I know in his own way he loved me, he told me he loved me, so why would I have ever doubted that? He said to me, "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life. I'm not just saying that, I mean it." I know he meant it but it always made me worried that he somehow viewed his life as worthless overall. I think that's why I tried so hard to get him out hiking and camping and LIVING in the world because I wanted him to know that life is not a worthless endeavor, it has value. I wanted him to see what I saw every time I went out into the woods. I wanted him to feel what I felt every time I sat near the river and listened to the flow of the water. I wanted him to appreciate what life really is. I wanted him to LIVE with me.

Did I push too hard. Did I not push hard enough? Why did he give up? Why couldn't he just keep fighting? Why did he leave me alone? He should have known just how hard this was going to be on me. He should have known.

I loved this man with everything I had. Why did he want to die?