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My husband died today

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I went back to the basement today. It was way too hot in the house and the basement was the coolest place. I think the temperature went above 40*C today! I tidied up some more, played find the toy with the dog and made him chase me around. I came across some soft multi colored exercise mats that husband had bought last fall and intended to put down but didn't. I put them in today for him. The workout area looks nice again, I can actually move around in there now. I may begin a weight program this week.

I was going to say that I didn't cry today but I did. I went to get the mail and when I was coming back the neighbor lady next door came out with this box and she pulled a bag from inside of it, holding it up to me and saying, "Would you have any use for these? My brother gave them to us but we don't have any use for them. " They were small black bags. The first thought in my mind was, "Oh My God! How did SHE find out!!??" I felt myself start to shake inside and I looked down and tried to look away from the stupid bag but she was still coming toward me holding it up. I just said, "No." and tried to hurry toward my front steps. I felt like I was being rude but I knew what it was doing to me inside. She said, "Oh I thought you could use them for the dog...." and I said, "Oh no, I have tons of bags for him." Ummm and they're not environmentally friendly compostable bags anyway, they are SMALL BLACK PLASTIC GARBAGE BAGS!!!! My f'ing worst nightmare.

I managed to get into the house before I started to lose it. I just went to the couch, laid down and cried hysterically for about 10 minutes. I was exhausted by the time I was done, my brain felt like it was fried. Poor dog didn't know what happened, he just sat there looking at me afraid and kept putting his nose in my face. It just keeps running through my mind that she has somehow found out about my triggers. I couldn't help it, as I laid there melting down on the couch, I thought, "I hope she falls down her stairs and breaks her neck! Evil woman! How dare you do this to me!" She's lucky I don't fly into a homicidal rage.

Uh and there it is. There is the reason why I was so short with the dog tonight when I tried to walk him. I honestly almost melted down on the dog too. He wouldn't walk, he just kept turning away from me and pulling. We couldn't go more than 10 feet before he'd do it and I just could not deal with it. I wanted to scream at him and spank him. I didn't but I REALLY felt like I could. He was the total opposite of the dog I walked this morning who I even let run off leash. Sometimes I think I don't know what I'm doing with this dog.

i don't know if my husband would have been able to handle this extra "stress" either. Not only would he have had to deal with the dog, he'd have had to deal with me as a result of the dog. I came home tonight and wanted to be a blubbering mess because again, i see all of these people nicely walking their dogs all over the neighborhood and here I am in a tug of war match with my dog trying to get him to go more than 30' from the house! Oh and he's now eating dirt! I just don't get it.

Well, at least tonight I did something "special" for my hubby. Hey, Tin, I finally got those mats in that you wanted. I may go look for more to finish the area. I wish he could see it. i just wish he could come home. I just wish i could see him again and hear him. God, I just need him again.
 
Suicide. The dog and I were walking today and this thought popped into my head - what stopped me from doing before him (the dog)? And of course, naturally, how brave did he have to be to go through with it? Did he know it was going to be what it turned out to be?

I read up on shotgun deaths and there were some examinations of self-inflicted wounds, in one, the guy shot himself accidentally while cleaning his shotgun and had numerous wounds in his abdomen and pelvis. Coroner estimated that he bled out slowly into his abdominal cavity because no major arteries were affected. God, I hope my hubby hit a major artery. I hope he went numb and didn't feel anything. I pray he went immediately into shock and felt no pain. I can't imagine dealing with the stupid pain on top of the slow suffocating sensation of bleeding out into your abdomen. Your brain is still working, everyone knows that.

Uggh. The stupid coroners report is upstairs in a sealed envelope. I'm afraid to read it and at the same time, i want to know that he died right away and didn't just sit there bleeding out, conscious, slowly suffocating as his organs and brain shut down slowly. What happened to my beloved? How angry do you have to be to point a gun at yourself? How "sad" do you have to be to think You of all people in this world, don't belong or can't contribute? Him!? He had EVERYTHING going for him! He had a job, he had a home, a wife who cared for and loved him, he had awards for his job for crying out loud, everyone thought so highly of him - what more did he want!?

I'm still afraid that he was conscious and afraid and sorry and angry at himself because there was nothing he could do to change his mind or stop what was happening. I can't imagine the fear one goes through while they're dying from trauma. I think about it and I see my mom's eyes when she died. She was confused and didn't know what was happening around her, then, as her heart stopped completely you could see in her eyes, anger, then fear and then almost recognition of something and then blank. Did he picture me in his mind? Did he think of me at all that morning?

Why didn't he just say goodbye? Did he think this was somehow going to look like an accident? Was he hoping it would be ruled an accident? If that was his plan, he kinda had to let me in on that....I'm not psychic. When they told me there was a gun on the seat next to him, I felt like I got kicked in the guts. I could see the white fan in the aisle where the guns were - it had been moved. I can hear myself saying in a hollow voice, "I forgot to check the guns." because I was in shock. I didn't know if one of his guns was missing. I remember being asked what kind of guns he had but I don't know where I was when that happened, I just remember saying, "He has two. A high powered pellet gun and a shotgun." My voice in my memory sounds slow and hollow. almost robotic.

Even if he wanted it to seem like an accident, I wasn't part of that plan, so I just spoke the truth. Also if he was hoping it would appear as an accident, there was no reason for that weapon to have left the house with him - he wasn't selling it, he wasn't a hunter and he hadn't made any plans to meet anyone as far as I knew. That being said, I don't know what he did from the time he left the bedroom to the time he was found on the side of the road. I wish he would have just changed his damned mind and come home. He could have sneaked his gun back in at another time. I never would have known it had left this house. I never would have known how close he came to dying. We could have just carried on and faced the challenges we were facing.

Why didn't I do it? All those years I struggled and screamed and just wanted my pain to end. I just prayed and prayed some nights for blankness, darkness and nothing. I wanted to be able to breathe because my employer and workers comp were constantly after me making me feel trapped and exhausted. I had no fight left in me so many times over those years.........I didn't do it because of him. Because he held me, he reminded me that he loved me and he would be sad, and I screamed inside of my head, "It's not about you!" I just wanted it to stop for just a while. I just wanted room to breathe. I just wanted some of the pressure off of me. I wanted them to back off and leave me alone for a little while. I felt like I was in a corner and those people kept poking at me with sharpened sticks.

I remember my hubby holding me one night and kissing me as I screamed and he said, "I wish they would leave us alone too. I know how it feels because I feel it too. I don't know why they're doing this to us. We're good people, We've only ever been good people, I don't understand why they're treating you this way." and he started crying with me. So yeah, this fight took it's toll on him too. I wasn't the only one feeling bullied and mistreated by them. They added to his stress - they were the source of a great deal of his stress.

After he died, I just wanted to die too. There was no time. No privacy. No time alone. That whole first month my sister slept in the bed with me and I was kind of weirded out by it because that bed had only ever slept he and I. Once everyone left and I was alone, I don't know why I didn't do it then. It was so damned painful and scary being alone. I think I'm just a coward. I can't do it. I also think about what he would have wanted for me - he fought to keep me alive all those years - did he mean even after he was gone too?

Now? I've got the dog. Sadly, he'd probably eat me if I died because, well first off he's an animal and secondly, because it's not like there is ever anyone who comes to check up on me. There are times I don't communicate with my sister for days because she's working. No one comes to visit. My vehicle sits unmoving in the driveway for weeks sometimes because I don't leave the house. No one would ever have any indication that I was deceased. It would take at least three days before my sister even worried.

Hmmmm, I think about it now and as this dog gets more comfortable with me he's barking at me to get my attention when he needs to go out, so having said that, he would probably be barking almost constantly if something were to happen to me and that would bring the attention of the neighbors. Besides, i don't think I could do that to him, so not fair to him, he's finally found a permanent home with someone who's not mean to him. He deserves a good life.

Sigh. I miss him so much today. I wish I could just sense him near me again.
 
He is with you and he is so sorry for that moment of totally despair. If he could take it back he would. No excuse,, he is so very sorry, he is with you spiritual. He understands now, he didn't in his confusion. I believe this with all my heart. I hope this brings you a little comfort. Please take care of yourself. We all care.
 
When I met my husband he was a strong but non-practicing Catholic; the whole concept of purgatory freaked him out but he said apparently no one in his religion could ever be damned because of purgatory. You pay and atone and you get into heaven eventually. He used to joke that I was going to hell because my religion didn't have a purgatory. I told him I was more a naturalist, in science energy can't be created or destroyed and by virtue of being alive the We that we are is simply an energy that changes form at the time of death.

I remember him telling me some years later that he liked that theory better because it meant that the Animus, the You, never truly dies.

His body died but his energy became something else, something I can't understand until I reach that point too.

My sister is here overnight. We had a bottle of wine & talked, naturally we moved to the topic of my husband. I was trying to remember some of the blank zones I have after he died. You know I spoke to reporters in that state, a lot of those calls I just don't remember, it was like my brain got stuck at the "Hi I'm X reporter from the X news media" and I just launched into a numb tirade. I do remember being short with some of them. I couldn't think clearly. Too many questions, too many things to process; it was a pressure cooker I was in in the days and weeks after he died.

I know I remembered at the time but now? There are blank chunks in my memory. We got a piper for the funeral. I don't remember hearing any of it. He played, other people were touched by it. I missed it.

I haven't spoken of those days with anyone since, well, since those days themselves. It was strange to go over it and not remember some details. There were also other details that I distinctly remember taking care of that others are now claiming responsibility for, "oh you probably just don't remember, you were pretty bad then." Uh, nope, my mind is showing me a rather distinct memory of me doing that....oh well, everyone wanted to be a piece of that week, everyone wants to claim a part of it. I'm sure 10 years from now people will talk to me of it as though I wasn't even there.

Feeling a little triggered maybe.

I need him to hug me. I really need him right now.
 
I'm missing him so badly today. Last night I woke up and heard the dog breathing and I thought my nightmare was over, that he was actually in the room with me. I reached out in that half asleep happy space in my head and my hand fell on his shirt wrapped around his blanket. I was immediately struck with a deep and intense sadness. That is never going to be real ever again. He's never going to be next to me ever again. All the wishing in the world can't bring him back alive. No amount of hope could ever reconstruct him. None of my dreams or hopes will ever become real.

I just miss him so intensely. I just feel like my insides are being torn apart today and I really want to just run away with the dog and spend an entire day in the park getting lost but I have to get hubby's taxes done. The office is only open Mondays in the off season and I'm getting afraid to put it off another week, I'm feeling the pressure to get it done. Uggh, maybe I'll just drop it for another week. Maybe I need another week just to collect myself, get my sh*t together. I'm afraid if I go in there today I'll just end up in tears and that's not a good thing.

I hear him again and again saying, "I'm so sad, Medic" And I wish I could have deciphered the meaning behind that. Sad isn't permanent, sad is a temporary emotion, it goes away - depression is more than just sad, it is way deeper and it is more serious. Why didn't he turn and say, "I'm so depressed, Medic" because maybe I would have been more helpful. Maybe I would have been more caring, more understanding, more loving. Why can't men just SPIT IT OUT instead of disguising everything?? How in hell was I supposed to know all of those little whispers going on in his head behind that single little sentence??? How was, "i'm so sad." supposed to mean, "I feel like killing myself." ??

There's the stereotype phrase that still bothers me so much too, "I have to get my affairs in order." or whatever it was exactly that he said to me in the kitchen as I released my hug on him and he ducked to get something out of the fridge. I remember I scowled at the back of his head thinking he was just being so over dramatic over this whole thing about his potential enlarged heart. I said to him, in an anguished and frustrated voice, "Tinny! You are NOT going to die! Please, why are you doing this to yourself? If there was something wrong with your heart, the doctor would have found it, you just got all these tests done, you're FINE." He just mumbled something and quickly turned and headed to the living room with this strange intensely bothered look in his eye. I followed him because in my heart I heard all of my text books screaming at me, "Suicide warning, this is what people who commit suicide say, it's a threat, that's a threat, take it seriously." So I followed behind him wiping my hands on a tea towel and I said, "What do you mean, get your affairs in order?" He didn't answer me. He was just sitting there, on his computer and I knew he was logging into his bank account so I repeated again in a worried and anxious voice, "Tin, what do you mean, get your affairs in order?" He said sullenly, almost guiltily, "Nothing." and paused then added, "I just have to pay these bills, they've been sitting here for a week." I felt relieved. I relaxed a bit. The words were just spoken out of frustration and anger, they didn't mean anything. He wasn't suicidal. He wasn't threatening to kill himself or thinking he was going to just up and die of a sudden heart attack. He was okay.

He was dead only 13 hours after that. He had a shotgun blast in his side and he died a horrible, horrible death because for some reason he decided to punish himself for something he could have had complete control over if he'd only just waited for the logic to return. Why in hell couldn't he wait? Why couldn't he just f'ing hold on? I held on so many times, so many g-damn times and here I sit f'ing alone because he couldn't hold on. It makes me feel worthless the decision he made. In those moments, I meant nothing. I wasn't a part of his life or his heart or anything in those minutes as he died. It was only him. His pain, His life. His action. His decision. He forgot about me. He forgot me.

He left me.... alone....he knew how much I hated being alone. He knew how much i was looking forward to his retirement so that we could finally be together all the time. You know there are days when I think, maybe he didn't want that, you know? Maybe it was just me who wanted to spend time with him. Maybe he didn't want to be alone with me for the rest of his life. These things pop up in your head, like the time we were having champagne in a lodge on one of our anniversaries and I stupidly said I'd loved him from the first time I saw him - Oooh, ahhh, romantic notions but yeah, from the very first time I saw him I was very drawn to him, it was actually kind of odd in how other wordly it seemed to me and I even tried to stay away from him and ignore him because the "pull" to him was so strong. What did he say when I stupidly asked him, "Did you love me from the start?" He'd had some champagne and was feeling a little drunk and he looked at me and laughed and said, "Ha, no. Love isn't like that. Love takes time to develop. I eventually came to love you over the years." I remember that night I felt like I'd just been kicked in the guts. I spent the rest of our anniversary evening pretending I was okay but still feeling like I couldn't breathe. I kept wondering why he even stayed with me all that time when he didn't actually love me. It always made me wonder if he'd actually "come to love me" or if he'd just settled for me.

I loved him. He was my first and only love. I feel like I could never love anyone ever again. Would it have been that way with him had I taken my own life or would he have just moved someone else in quickly and "come to love" them over the years as well? Was I more a necessity in his life than anything?

When someone kills themselves it casts a shadow on everything. You doubt your whole existence together. I think the worst thing is, you'll never know. Will he even be waiting for me when I die or has he been finally reunited with the one he truly loved in his life? Will I end up alone in my after life?

Uggh. I just want this life to finally settle. I just want to move on in some way. I just need this lawsuit to conclude an entire chapter of my life - I hate finishing other chapters and leaving one unfinished. I just want things to finally settle in this life because it's never going to be worth anything to me ever again without him.
 
I just want things to finally settle in this life because it's never going to be worth anything to me ever again without him.

Things will eventually settle down for you and I will believe it for you if you cannot. Totally hear and see you.:hug:
 
I need his hugs. I need them so badly. I want them back.

I wonder if he knew that he was condemning me to a life filled with reminders of his death? I wake every single morning around the time he woke that day. Its not like I plan it, my mind just wakes up and I lay in bed thinking about that morning. I go over and over that day wishing I could change things, wishing I could stop him. I spend my average day exhausted and seeing no point to doing anything, I only do what I feel like in the moment and what needs to be done for the dog.

I'm not crying as much since the dog came, but I'm wondering if that will soon go back to what it was before. He doesn't seem to notice me crying when he's deep asleep. I feel like I'm pretending to be okay for the sake of the dog. I feel guilty on those days when I say things like, "Hey, who's the cutiest cutie in the whole wide world? It's you!" because these are the exact things I used to say to my husband. I used to make up silly songs about just about anything that came to mind and I'm doing this again with the dog. The other morning we were walking down at the park and I sang a silly cute song to him about walking with me and got sad because this is exactly how I used to be with my hubby when we'd go out hiking. He used to laugh and grab me to hug me.

I miss him so badly today.

I took the dog with me to the community garden to do my volunteer work. No one else showed up, apparently I'd forgotten that they switched to Mondays. Regardless I punished myself by working for two straight hours pulling weeds, hoeing the ground and shoveling dirt. I cleared and hand turned a 900 square foot plot of garden. Every muscle in my body aches now. As I was doing it I thought about why I was doing it. Approval? Praise? For myself? and that is when the word "Punishment" popped into my mind. I'm punishing myself for everything that's happened to me in my life. I'm punishing myself for being sad, for losing my husband, for being the one who allowed her life to be destroyed, allowed herself to be destroyed.

I ache but for some reason, it's a good ache. It feels like I've done something worth doing even though it doesn't really affect anyone or benefit anyone else, we're just clearing the plot to put in ground cover crops for winter. It was a morning of hard back breaking work and in my mind, this is the only thing that one can truly take pride in. My grandfather worked hard all day long in the fields, plowing with the horses, tending his crops. sitting in the shade to eat his lunch. He didn't have goals to reach each day, he just went out and did what he could do. He was like my dad, my dad used to work on a road crew when he was young, although unlike my grandfather, he was paid for it and had a schedule and deadlines to meet, it was manual labor, hard work. He was sore and aching at the end of the day but proud of himself for what he had accomplished. I did two volunteer days of work today in about two hours. I took no breaks. I worked until the work was done. I was proud of what I'd done.

It serves no purpose what i did. It doesn't change the world. It doesn't bring him back. It doesn't make me famous. It just is what it is but I did it and that is what is most important to me. Sure, I may be punishing myself trying to find something to take pride in in this life, but it will be worth it eventually, won't it?

I miss my husband today. He was always proud of me, no matter what I did, he was always so proud of me. I wonder if he's still proud of me.
 
I am depressed today. I woke up early before it was fully light; it's automatic now even if I don't want too I just do. I just lay there wondering, "is this what time it was?" that morning when he decided he was going to die. I think about it a lot. I was crying this morning in bed, trying to be quiet so I wouldn't wake the dog.

Today is also the day that I lost my brother to a car accident 30 years ago. He would have been the same age as my husband. I can't believe it's been 30 years already. I didn't even realize it until fb reminded me but somehow my mind had an idea that something was particularly sad about this day.

I was driving from the park and I thought about it again, I no longer see any point to my life. It's quite frightening. I don't see any point to educating myself any further because everything he knew, all of those details and hours of his life he spent studying to be the best at his job? All gone once he died. All pointless. I don't see any point to my painting anything anymore, they just end up in some refuse pile once I'm gone. Meaningless. Writing? Telling my story? For what purpose? To "help" other people? A book that will be read and tossed or worse yet, be relegated to a discount pile within two weeks? Words that will be meaningless once I'm gone. What is the point to seeing the case through too? So I can get oodles of money and "live the dream"? With who? I would only want that dream to be with my husband who I promised to love to the ends of the universe and back again.

Why am I still here? What is the point to my even being here anymore? I just don't understand. My life has no meaning anymore. He was my reason to keep going. He was what I was looking forward too in life; the day he retired and we could say F the world and go be our reclusive selves in peace somewhere in the country.

I always used to say if we won the lottery that I'd probably go back to school because educating myself was a top priority, being knowledgeable was an utmost priority, filling my brain with everything possible because I used to say that an empty brain was a complete waste. Well, now I don't feel that way anymore. What is the point to education? Its sole purpose is to advance one's knowledge and help people to "get ahead" in the corporate world. It is all just virtual too. It is not tangible. You can't leave it to anyone. It all just becomes mist when you die. No one will ever know what you knew and that in itself is a gosh darned shame. I already hold two degrees and two college diplomas. What more do I need? I'm not going anywhere. I have no career, hell at this point, I don't even have any aspirations for anything.

I feel like my life is already over. I'm just going through the motions from day to day. I spend my days worrying about the dog, looking after his needs and once again, feeling trapped, like I can't go anywhere or do anything on my own anymore because I have to look after him. If I do go out on my own, I rush through because I worry about him at home alone. I get separation anxiety as much as he does. Some days I even feel like I did when my husband was alive, The dog sleeps and then wakes up and just lies there looking bored. He'll get up and wander around the house looking for hidden treats even though I'd already fed him way too many treats for the day. I take him for a walk and he still gets that bored look...just like my husband used too. I feel like I'm trying to entertain someone who doesn't know what they want to do - just like my husband in those last few months. I got so tired of the "I dunno" answer when I'd ask him what he wanted to do if he said he was bored. I was bored too. I was stir crazy most of the time but I just ended up biting my tongue because I knew he didn't sit on his butt all the time like I did.

I sit on my butt a lot even with the dog. I feel like I'm sitting on my butt more now than I did before I got him. Before the dog, I was starting to go out to the park where husband and I spent most of our time together. I was spending entire afternoons there just fishing and wandering. With the dog? Well, if he doesn't want to do something, he won't. treats or no treats. I was finally able to get him to follow me down a trail today but as far as fishing? Mr Whiny face needs constant supervision otherwise he does ridiculous things like gagging because he's eaten something off the ground or he'll wander where I can't see him and I have to go hunt for him anyway. I'm a bitch for complaining about it. :(

There's a guy with PTSD who has a service dog and he's tried to kill himself at least three times since he got the dog two and a half years ago. I don't believe in dogs being the answer to suicide prevention, it's not fair to the dog - at least, this is what I believe now because this is why I was denied a service dog, "unstable coping and suicidal tendencies". They told me it would be "unfair to the dog". So many people say they "couldn't do that to their dog" but in all honesty, in the moment, it's not about anyone but you and your mind trap.

I was thinking about suicide today as I drove home from the park. I was crying about my husband and thinking about how and why I even bother existing without him. I was thinking about my sister and how "I would pass on the pain to her". It's true but my mind's answer to that was, "So? It got passed to me, it gets passed whether I die of natural causes or intentionally." I hate that saying now, "you only pass on the pain to someone else." Well, F, of course you do. People can't answer the why's and the stupid why's linger because you're not here to answer them and that in itself leads to incessant internalizing, ruminating and self punishment...and a soul that screams for your loss. But in the end, there's nothing you can do about that is there? It is the nature of the thing.

My husband taking a gun and ending his life makes no sense to me, but it did to him. This is why it is so painful. I don't know how it made sense. All I see is my perspective of it.

My lying in bed wanting to swallow a handful of pills, it made no sense to him but it made perfect sense to me. Was he gong to be better off without me? Emotionally, no, he would be ruined for the rest of his life, but would his life stop? Nope, that's not the nature of that thing either. It just keeps going and we get dragged along whether we want to be or not. I feel like I'm chaff being dragged along now. I don't see my point anymore.

Me? What am I worth anymore? To my employer and their lawyer I'll just be a dollar value. I mean nothing to anyone. I have no value, no worth in the world. I don't even have that to myself. I was a wife. I was a caretaker. I had a purpose no matter what fraction of the purpose it was that I'd had before, I had a purpose in my life. My purpose is gone. I tried to replace it with the dog, but it's not he same, he'll never be the same.

I need my husband back. I had a value with him here. I see no value in me anymore.

Love? "There are people who love and care for you." So? They'll hurt, they'll grieve, they'll mourn and sadly their life will go on and I won't be around to feel the guilt over what it looks like after me. How do you expect to try to get someone to stay alive when you keep utilizing guilt strategies? What about that person? What is their specific value? To answer that, you have to know them and even that likely won't save them all the time.

Suicide intervention has to be specific to the person. Suicide prevention? I laugh at it because you can't develop a strategy that blankets everyone. Each suicide is an individual dealing with an individual issue. Most negotiations I was on the negotiator talked about "think of your family" or "Do you have kids? Tell me about them." I once sat in a pool of blood with a girl armed with a razor blade already bleeding from a deep wound on her arm and threatening to slice open the other. I sat there and I asked her why she felt she was hurting. She struggled to answer it. She instead deflected using anger directed at her parents. I said she wasn't trying to die because she was angry, there is a reason for angry and she had to find it and own up to it. Pain. Internal. Hidden. Pain. Pure, pure, pure pain. Shrouded in cognitive distortions. Stuffed beneath layers of superficial garbage and excuses. In her battle to confront what was going on in her mind, her struggle to give it voice, she dropped her razor blade and I grabbed her and hugged her and wrapped her wounds. At the hospital she wanted me to stay with her because she was afraid and she trusted me. I couldn't stay.

Would handing her a suicide prevention kit have helped her? Would some light have gone on inside her head and suddenly erased the incestuous rape she'd endured at the age of 9? Nope. She needed to be dealt with as the individual she is. I think it's wrong to set ourselves up for the disappointment of thinking we can prevent ALL suicides, we can't. some people will go because they will. We may see it coming in successive attempts or self destructive patterns of behavior or we may never have seen it coming. Most people cannot verbalize their pain. Maybe the only prevention we can succeed at is getting people to learn how to verbalize their pain.

"I'm so sad" doesn't cut it. It says nothing about the depth of pain. It doesn't say, "I want to die." I personally don't want to die but right now I'm not seeing any point or purpose to my life anymore, so naturally, my mind will ask me, why put off the inevitable? I'm not going to die, don't get worried, I promised to see this case to the end. I guess that's my "purpose" right now, to wait this out and finish it for him. It's not much of a purpose. Caretaker to the dog? Sadly my mind answers with, "He's been bounced around already so much, moving him now wouldn't make much of a difference. He'd get taken care of. Someone will see to it."

I'm very depressed today. I may just go to bed early, wait for this phase to pass. Sleep on it...actually, sleep to get away from it.

I miss my husband. I miss my brother. I miss my husband more.
 
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