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My husband died today
- Post starter NarcSis
- Start date
- Status
- Post starter
- #1,034
Today was another trip to the bank to try to deal with outstanding estate issues. I held it together as long as I could but when I'm actually being asked these questions all over again, like, what was his date of death, it just zaps you back and tears you into pieces all over again. I think I stopped breathing about 5 minutes in. I was recording everything in the event I began to lose it...and I eventually did. I had to stand up and pace a bit to allow myself to deepen my breaths and calm down but the tears came and I couldn't stop them.
I can write it a million times and think it a zillion times but to actually say it out loud, "He died." It just tears me up inside. I felt like I was only a week after his death all over again. I was shaking so badly when I came out of that bank, The issue got settled but we're far from over. I may have to apply to the court for Estate Administration. That is going to be fun to try to get done. I pray to God it doesn't have to come to that.
I took the dog out for a walk when I got home just to try to reset my head. We went for a long walk but ended up in a school zone - at let out time! Uggh. Running, screaming, zooming. It was a little much for me. I could not stop thinking about him being dead. It sounds so different when I say it aloud. He's dead. He died on the 31st of January last year. He has no further outstanding debts. He is dead.
He killed himself. That's the part they don't know. That's the part I wanted to just scream at them today. He's not just dead, he shot himself with a f'ing shotgun!!! How f'ing nightmare inducing is that!? THAT is why I'm still crying a whole year later! I'm not just some soft broken up widow, I'm a woman who lost her husband out of the f'ing blue in the worst way imaginable.
This evening I was reading a post from a woman who found her husband. I made some bland supportive statement about how I understand the pain of losing someone to suicide and got the "you didn't find your husband you wouldn't understand" thing. I wanted to start an online fight and be a bitch back to her, but I just walked away and hid the post from my feed.
You know, I may have never found my husband or seen him dead but it's not like I haven't seen that before. I've seen what a shotgun does to people. I've seen it and it was not a pretty sight. I can smell it every single time I think about it. I see the carpet. I see the man. I hear the cop telling us that he left a note saying he was too young to die from cancer.
I also see the 18 year old that the family did not cut down in their garage. HE WAS 18! They could not face it so they just left him there and called 911 - we were first on scene before the cops and the fire department. My partner and I cut him down. What's really sad? We got a f'n pulse back after at least 15 minutes of him hanging there, which means he probably wasn't dead yet when his parents found him!!! He never recovered. He died later in hospital but I still see him there.
I see the 14 year old boy that we arrived on scene to assist with, I can clearly see the ligature mark on his neck. I can see what that did to his face. It was not pretty. I see the very first suicide I attended, a man lying face up on the floor with the noose lying nearby. I hear the police say his 12 year old son was performing CPR on him when they arrived. I remember doing the in depth exam of him as an on-the-job teaching lesson.
I see a 20 year old woman with her wrist slit crying and telling me she was sorry. I see another 20 something standing in a pool of her own blood threatening me with a razor blade. I see a man on a balcony threatening to jump. I see countless overdose victims, blue and me fighting to get them breathing again - countless because there were so many every shift over 18 years of a career and not all of them made it. I see a man lying on the pavement, his body severely damaged from an 14 story drop. I see the train jumpers. I see the ones who walked in front of a bus. I see the CO poisonings and although i had no attachment to any of them, I would wish that on no one.
i remember thinking at my first suicide scene, "If he knew this was going to hurt his loved ones so much, would he have still gone through with it?" The poor guy's wife. I could hear her screaming and screaming upstairs. I remember being that wife now. His poor kid. 12 years old, on his knees, crying and trying to save his Dad's life but not only that, having to cut him down! He saw him hanging there and still he tried and tried to save him - did he ever recover from that? Where is that kid now? Would his life have been different if he didn't have to go through that?
I've seen them. I've "found" them. They may not have been "mine" but I was there to witness them.
When I was little my Dad was called to an emergency while he was taking us for a ride in the police cruiser (small town). I thought it was so fun to be going lights and sirens. He gave us a stern warning not to get out of the truck; at least our mom was with us. Of course, when we got there my Dad said something to my Mom and she immediately reached over and covered our eyes and turned us away from the window. I still swear to this day that I saw the man hanging in the tree.
So no. I may not have seen my husband after he killed himself, and at some point in the future, maybe I will be grateful to the men/women there who protected me from that, but I know what dead looks like and I am very familiar with what dead from suicide looks like.
Missing him so much again tonight.
I can write it a million times and think it a zillion times but to actually say it out loud, "He died." It just tears me up inside. I felt like I was only a week after his death all over again. I was shaking so badly when I came out of that bank, The issue got settled but we're far from over. I may have to apply to the court for Estate Administration. That is going to be fun to try to get done. I pray to God it doesn't have to come to that.
I took the dog out for a walk when I got home just to try to reset my head. We went for a long walk but ended up in a school zone - at let out time! Uggh. Running, screaming, zooming. It was a little much for me. I could not stop thinking about him being dead. It sounds so different when I say it aloud. He's dead. He died on the 31st of January last year. He has no further outstanding debts. He is dead.
He killed himself. That's the part they don't know. That's the part I wanted to just scream at them today. He's not just dead, he shot himself with a f'ing shotgun!!! How f'ing nightmare inducing is that!? THAT is why I'm still crying a whole year later! I'm not just some soft broken up widow, I'm a woman who lost her husband out of the f'ing blue in the worst way imaginable.
This evening I was reading a post from a woman who found her husband. I made some bland supportive statement about how I understand the pain of losing someone to suicide and got the "you didn't find your husband you wouldn't understand" thing. I wanted to start an online fight and be a bitch back to her, but I just walked away and hid the post from my feed.
You know, I may have never found my husband or seen him dead but it's not like I haven't seen that before. I've seen what a shotgun does to people. I've seen it and it was not a pretty sight. I can smell it every single time I think about it. I see the carpet. I see the man. I hear the cop telling us that he left a note saying he was too young to die from cancer.
I also see the 18 year old that the family did not cut down in their garage. HE WAS 18! They could not face it so they just left him there and called 911 - we were first on scene before the cops and the fire department. My partner and I cut him down. What's really sad? We got a f'n pulse back after at least 15 minutes of him hanging there, which means he probably wasn't dead yet when his parents found him!!! He never recovered. He died later in hospital but I still see him there.
I see the 14 year old boy that we arrived on scene to assist with, I can clearly see the ligature mark on his neck. I can see what that did to his face. It was not pretty. I see the very first suicide I attended, a man lying face up on the floor with the noose lying nearby. I hear the police say his 12 year old son was performing CPR on him when they arrived. I remember doing the in depth exam of him as an on-the-job teaching lesson.
I see a 20 year old woman with her wrist slit crying and telling me she was sorry. I see another 20 something standing in a pool of her own blood threatening me with a razor blade. I see a man on a balcony threatening to jump. I see countless overdose victims, blue and me fighting to get them breathing again - countless because there were so many every shift over 18 years of a career and not all of them made it. I see a man lying on the pavement, his body severely damaged from an 14 story drop. I see the train jumpers. I see the ones who walked in front of a bus. I see the CO poisonings and although i had no attachment to any of them, I would wish that on no one.
i remember thinking at my first suicide scene, "If he knew this was going to hurt his loved ones so much, would he have still gone through with it?" The poor guy's wife. I could hear her screaming and screaming upstairs. I remember being that wife now. His poor kid. 12 years old, on his knees, crying and trying to save his Dad's life but not only that, having to cut him down! He saw him hanging there and still he tried and tried to save him - did he ever recover from that? Where is that kid now? Would his life have been different if he didn't have to go through that?
I've seen them. I've "found" them. They may not have been "mine" but I was there to witness them.
When I was little my Dad was called to an emergency while he was taking us for a ride in the police cruiser (small town). I thought it was so fun to be going lights and sirens. He gave us a stern warning not to get out of the truck; at least our mom was with us. Of course, when we got there my Dad said something to my Mom and she immediately reached over and covered our eyes and turned us away from the window. I still swear to this day that I saw the man hanging in the tree.
So no. I may not have seen my husband after he killed himself, and at some point in the future, maybe I will be grateful to the men/women there who protected me from that, but I know what dead looks like and I am very familiar with what dead from suicide looks like.
Missing him so much again tonight.
AngelKeeperJ
Sponsor
(((Medic))):hug:❤
Last edited:
D
Deleted member 12723
:cry::hug::hug::hug:
- Post starter
- #1,037
The dog and I took another long walk today. I didn't dress as warm as I should have because the thermometer said plus 4 but I forget about wind chills this time of year, so now I'm paying for it. I've been constantly chilled since we got back. It struck me as we were walking that it was quite warm out ( when we were in a sheltered spot) and I said to the dog, "It's actually warmer out today than it was the day they found "daddy"...and I was out there with just a light windbreaker over a thin shirt, shoes, jeans, no long underwear, fully exposed to the wind for about 2 or 3 hours. it was -1 on that day."
I woke up again this morning and looked out the window in the bathroom judging the light levels and I thought, "Yep, I'm pretty sure this is how light it was that morning when he got out of bed." So I went back to the bed to check the time - it was just before 7am; there's no way it was just before 7 that he got out of bed that morning. I had originally thought it was only around 5 or 6. It was 710 when I was searching the internet. I know I had said, "Tin, It's still early, you're getting up already? It's still dark out."
Sigh. 530 am at the very earliest or just before 6 am anyway. There is no way he was found at 630 in the morning!! Stupid investigator! If he was reported at 630 as "found" then why in hell was the ambulance not there when I went by that street the first time around 930 am? Their station is only 3 minutes away from there; even if they were out and a further vehicle had to come they would only take a maximum of 30 minutes to arrive - they STILL would have been on scene when I went by the first time! When I went by at around 930 am there were only two police cruisers in the area - they were the first arrivals. Their response time from the next town over would have been only a maximum of 15 minutes - I've driven that route, i know how long it takes. Even if their response times were 1/2 hour, he was only found at 9 am!
I'd been texting him since 820 am. I sent him another text message WHILE they were all on scene! I was up near the park. I was still angry and worried and wondering why he wouldn't answer me. I was at most a 25 minute drive back home and I was motoring on the way back so maybe it only took me 15-20 minutes. I arrived on scene around 1030 am. By then there were at least 5 police cruisers, an ambulance, an ambulance Supervisor vehicle which would have traveled at least 40 minutes away, and an Ident or Homocide van - those guys take time to mobilize and respond. Calls for all of these resources had to have just been going in as I went past the scene.
Why did I keep driving by? I kept driving because I had no clue and turning to gawk at a possible drunk driver pulled over at the side of the roadway was just not me. In my mind, that was a speeder or a drunk driver and I remember thinking, "Two cruisers? Ooooh someone's going to get their car towed." Not once in my head did I think it was him other than a brief flash that said, "Is that a silver car like his???" and I shot that down right away by "looking" at the image flash in my head again and saying, "No, that's a honda or a toyota, smaller than his." If it wasn't for the stupid roundabout coming up, I would have been able to look in the mirror and take a better look. I would have seen his car. But nope, the road curves slightly just before the roundabout, the angles were all wrong. I had the sun coming up behind me. Something stopped me from looking back there. It kills me now but something stood in my way and prevented me from showing up there too early.
I wasn't supposed to be there too early.
I'm sorry, this story is coming out again and again and It feels like I need to just spill it out. It will come out when it wants to come out and I will type it over and over again and it will never once ever make any sense to me.
I wish I could see what he was thinking. I wish I could get in there and see just how this played out the way it played out and most of all, I wish I could go in and just change the things he was thinking.
uggh, I'm being whined at, I'll have to continue this later. ...
I woke up again this morning and looked out the window in the bathroom judging the light levels and I thought, "Yep, I'm pretty sure this is how light it was that morning when he got out of bed." So I went back to the bed to check the time - it was just before 7am; there's no way it was just before 7 that he got out of bed that morning. I had originally thought it was only around 5 or 6. It was 710 when I was searching the internet. I know I had said, "Tin, It's still early, you're getting up already? It's still dark out."
Sigh. 530 am at the very earliest or just before 6 am anyway. There is no way he was found at 630 in the morning!! Stupid investigator! If he was reported at 630 as "found" then why in hell was the ambulance not there when I went by that street the first time around 930 am? Their station is only 3 minutes away from there; even if they were out and a further vehicle had to come they would only take a maximum of 30 minutes to arrive - they STILL would have been on scene when I went by the first time! When I went by at around 930 am there were only two police cruisers in the area - they were the first arrivals. Their response time from the next town over would have been only a maximum of 15 minutes - I've driven that route, i know how long it takes. Even if their response times were 1/2 hour, he was only found at 9 am!
I'd been texting him since 820 am. I sent him another text message WHILE they were all on scene! I was up near the park. I was still angry and worried and wondering why he wouldn't answer me. I was at most a 25 minute drive back home and I was motoring on the way back so maybe it only took me 15-20 minutes. I arrived on scene around 1030 am. By then there were at least 5 police cruisers, an ambulance, an ambulance Supervisor vehicle which would have traveled at least 40 minutes away, and an Ident or Homocide van - those guys take time to mobilize and respond. Calls for all of these resources had to have just been going in as I went past the scene.
Why did I keep driving by? I kept driving because I had no clue and turning to gawk at a possible drunk driver pulled over at the side of the roadway was just not me. In my mind, that was a speeder or a drunk driver and I remember thinking, "Two cruisers? Ooooh someone's going to get their car towed." Not once in my head did I think it was him other than a brief flash that said, "Is that a silver car like his???" and I shot that down right away by "looking" at the image flash in my head again and saying, "No, that's a honda or a toyota, smaller than his." If it wasn't for the stupid roundabout coming up, I would have been able to look in the mirror and take a better look. I would have seen his car. But nope, the road curves slightly just before the roundabout, the angles were all wrong. I had the sun coming up behind me. Something stopped me from looking back there. It kills me now but something stood in my way and prevented me from showing up there too early.
I wasn't supposed to be there too early.
I'm sorry, this story is coming out again and again and It feels like I need to just spill it out. It will come out when it wants to come out and I will type it over and over again and it will never once ever make any sense to me.
I wish I could see what he was thinking. I wish I could get in there and see just how this played out the way it played out and most of all, I wish I could go in and just change the things he was thinking.
uggh, I'm being whined at, I'll have to continue this later. ...
D
Deleted member 12723
You go right ahead and retell the story as much as you need to until you do not want to anymore and get it out of your system. I think what you experienced was so highly truamatic that of course you have to get it all out of you.:hug:
- Post starter
- #1,039
Thank you @gizmo.
I made a tiny meatloaf for one tonight with some instant mashed potatoes that my husband had hanging around the house last year. He bought them because he said he always liked to have "emergency food" around the house. I don't know how many MRE's we still have in the basement and "spaceman freeze dried ice cream". i haven't been brave enough to try it yet. It's got a 6 year shelf life, so I'm good for a while.
You see, the strange thing is, I don't like meatloaf, it was my husband's favorite meal but ever since he died, I find myself craving for it ever so often. The ground beef gives me indigestion, so I'm going to suffer a little bit tonight.
I miss the little things about him, like how he and I used to cuddle together on the floor in front of the tv in the evenings, just like the day before he died. The dog is starting to warm up to me now and we have spent the past three evenings together on the floor in front of the tv. He is still a little standoff-ish, he's not leaning against me, he's leaning toward me and resting his head on my leg or against my tummy but he's getting there. I will have a cuddle buddy again soon enough - not the same, but a good substitute. I was petting his neck last night and he sighed and looked up at me like I was a delicious hamburger - just like my hubby used to do when I would pet his arm or stroke his hair.
Little things like that are coming back to me now, like how he used to love copying Sheldon Cooper's "It's a Trap!" from the tv show Big Bang Theory. How he and I used to laugh so hard and think it was so supremely cute when the Tide commercial would come on tv and the baby would say, "make a mess". How when we'd go out to dinner, I used to just huff at him sometimes and make him strip off his pants or his shirt because it was nothing but a big wrinkle - his idea of getting ready to go out was pick a shirt up off the floor, press it down with his hands and taa-daa! I actually started making sure he bought wrinkle free fabrics so I wouldn't have to police him so much, lol.
He used to eat peanut butter by the spoonful. He had never seen a peanut butter and banana sandwich and the first time I made one in front of him he thought it was the grossest thing he'd ever seen....he never ever tried even a bite of one. Ha, ha, how he once sat eating a horrible dinner I made once and didn't say a peep about how it tasted until I sat down and bit into it. I looked at him and said, "This is super gross!" He just looked at me and said, "Meh, It's okay." If I put it in front of him he would eat it - I could have pulled something from the garbage bin freshened it up and in the early days he would have silently choked it back out of politeness. I eventually taught him to stop doing that. I think it was a throwback to his days growing up and how his parents used food against them. Hubby went hungry so many days while living with his dad because he didn't want to be a financial burden on him - HE WAS A KID, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE FINANCIAL BURDEN!! It's called sacrificing for your children!
But I digress. I don't want to get angry at how he was parented again, I want to remember our happier times. Like him dancing in the living room singing the song from the Lego Movie, "Everything is awesommme!!" Him coming up to me and "booping" me on the nose when I was having a flashback - he used to grab me and cuddle me to him like a child and rock me. One time he was reaching to move something so it wouldn't fall and he accidentally bopped me in the nose and it was enough of a jolt to zap me back to the room. I started laughing because I'd never had the flashback broken that quickly before. He said there must be a reset button built into my nose. He started booping me in the nose every single time and making the exaggerated "Boop!" noise. His silliness always helped me so much.
He used to sit at the end of the couch on the left side and if I was walking by he'd reach out and touch my leg or he'd block my way so I was forced to lean down and kiss him in order to pass. We had the same sore on the top of our head from banging it on the nader bolt of the rear doors of the old van style ambulances. Kinda gross but we also had the same blocked pore in the exact same spot on our backs. We were both left handed. Underneath it all, we were both geeks at heart - he was the only medic I could have physics discussions with because he took engineering at university. He was another Sci-fi fan, we could talk Star Trek and Star Wars. He introduced me to many series that I don't think I would have watched on my own, especially his favorite, "Red Dwarf".
I read many books because of him, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, The Hobbit (I wasn't a Tolkien fan before I met him), The Silmarillion, a lot of Asimov novels and Michael Crichton stuff. His favorites were war novels and police crime novels. His biggest interest was Ancient Rome, especially the Spartans. I also tried many foods because of him, crab, lobster, mussels - I discovered my seafood allergy because of him - but I ate things that I wouldn't have normally had the opportunity to eat, like real Asian food and not just commercial north american stuff. Thai food and if it weren't for him, I would have lived my entire life thinking spaghetti was true Italian cuisine.
He was a gamer. It annoyed the crap out of me but I learned to accept it as "His Thing" in the same way that writing was "my thing". I allowed him to have his thing even when it hurt me and left me feeling neglected and isolated. He was a coin collector. He collected knives. He collected police service pins. He was a collector and he had difficulty letting go of things - old clothes, I used to wait until he was at work before I'd go through his closet. We have an old trunk that still has blankets in it from when he was a kid! I don't know what to do with those...now I can't let go of things.
He had a Lion Rampant tattoo near his left iliac crest. He had two webbed toes on each foot inherited from his dad. He liked banana flavored popsicles. He loved to eat Scotch Broth as his first meal after being ill. He was a jello fiend. He was once addicted to coke (coca cola) - we used to laugh at that. He was in a constant search for the perfect lentil soup recipe like the one his mom made for him once as a kid. He once said the best meal he'd ever eaten in his life (and no offence was intended toward me) was a crappy salisbury steak in the hospital after he'd been unconscious for two weeks.
My husband was not a perfect man but he was perfect for me. Even at our worst, we still loved one another. We were going through tough times in terms of communicating and his stress reactions, he was burning out but I never once suspected he would be prone to suicide.
My sister said something the other night that made me think that even despite this incredibly difficult learning lesson, people will still fall back to their old beliefs. She said, "I'm smarter than that." when referring to suicide. "Smarter than that." as though you're suddenly dumb when you're about to take your own life or you have some kind of connection to proper reasoning or logic. I've heard so many over the year, "Stronger than that"; "Not that weak."; "Not stupid."; "Not that selfish." etc. etc.
If you're alive, you're not above it and that is why it's so damned important to work to remove the stigma that surrounds people who take their own lives. They're not defective. They're you and me. They're human. And if we're going to make it okay on the survivors and make it okay for those contemplating to speak up and ask for help, we need to start making more people understand that these people who take their own lives are no different from us.
My husband was not "defective" in any way. He was loved. He was in enmeshed in an internal struggle and he lost the battle.
Okay, getting off my soapbox. He lived. He had a life with me. He was real. I'll love him and miss him eternally.
I made a tiny meatloaf for one tonight with some instant mashed potatoes that my husband had hanging around the house last year. He bought them because he said he always liked to have "emergency food" around the house. I don't know how many MRE's we still have in the basement and "spaceman freeze dried ice cream". i haven't been brave enough to try it yet. It's got a 6 year shelf life, so I'm good for a while.
You see, the strange thing is, I don't like meatloaf, it was my husband's favorite meal but ever since he died, I find myself craving for it ever so often. The ground beef gives me indigestion, so I'm going to suffer a little bit tonight.
I miss the little things about him, like how he and I used to cuddle together on the floor in front of the tv in the evenings, just like the day before he died. The dog is starting to warm up to me now and we have spent the past three evenings together on the floor in front of the tv. He is still a little standoff-ish, he's not leaning against me, he's leaning toward me and resting his head on my leg or against my tummy but he's getting there. I will have a cuddle buddy again soon enough - not the same, but a good substitute. I was petting his neck last night and he sighed and looked up at me like I was a delicious hamburger - just like my hubby used to do when I would pet his arm or stroke his hair.
Little things like that are coming back to me now, like how he used to love copying Sheldon Cooper's "It's a Trap!" from the tv show Big Bang Theory. How he and I used to laugh so hard and think it was so supremely cute when the Tide commercial would come on tv and the baby would say, "make a mess". How when we'd go out to dinner, I used to just huff at him sometimes and make him strip off his pants or his shirt because it was nothing but a big wrinkle - his idea of getting ready to go out was pick a shirt up off the floor, press it down with his hands and taa-daa! I actually started making sure he bought wrinkle free fabrics so I wouldn't have to police him so much, lol.
He used to eat peanut butter by the spoonful. He had never seen a peanut butter and banana sandwich and the first time I made one in front of him he thought it was the grossest thing he'd ever seen....he never ever tried even a bite of one. Ha, ha, how he once sat eating a horrible dinner I made once and didn't say a peep about how it tasted until I sat down and bit into it. I looked at him and said, "This is super gross!" He just looked at me and said, "Meh, It's okay." If I put it in front of him he would eat it - I could have pulled something from the garbage bin freshened it up and in the early days he would have silently choked it back out of politeness. I eventually taught him to stop doing that. I think it was a throwback to his days growing up and how his parents used food against them. Hubby went hungry so many days while living with his dad because he didn't want to be a financial burden on him - HE WAS A KID, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE FINANCIAL BURDEN!! It's called sacrificing for your children!
But I digress. I don't want to get angry at how he was parented again, I want to remember our happier times. Like him dancing in the living room singing the song from the Lego Movie, "Everything is awesommme!!" Him coming up to me and "booping" me on the nose when I was having a flashback - he used to grab me and cuddle me to him like a child and rock me. One time he was reaching to move something so it wouldn't fall and he accidentally bopped me in the nose and it was enough of a jolt to zap me back to the room. I started laughing because I'd never had the flashback broken that quickly before. He said there must be a reset button built into my nose. He started booping me in the nose every single time and making the exaggerated "Boop!" noise. His silliness always helped me so much.
He used to sit at the end of the couch on the left side and if I was walking by he'd reach out and touch my leg or he'd block my way so I was forced to lean down and kiss him in order to pass. We had the same sore on the top of our head from banging it on the nader bolt of the rear doors of the old van style ambulances. Kinda gross but we also had the same blocked pore in the exact same spot on our backs. We were both left handed. Underneath it all, we were both geeks at heart - he was the only medic I could have physics discussions with because he took engineering at university. He was another Sci-fi fan, we could talk Star Trek and Star Wars. He introduced me to many series that I don't think I would have watched on my own, especially his favorite, "Red Dwarf".
I read many books because of him, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, The Hobbit (I wasn't a Tolkien fan before I met him), The Silmarillion, a lot of Asimov novels and Michael Crichton stuff. His favorites were war novels and police crime novels. His biggest interest was Ancient Rome, especially the Spartans. I also tried many foods because of him, crab, lobster, mussels - I discovered my seafood allergy because of him - but I ate things that I wouldn't have normally had the opportunity to eat, like real Asian food and not just commercial north american stuff. Thai food and if it weren't for him, I would have lived my entire life thinking spaghetti was true Italian cuisine.
He was a gamer. It annoyed the crap out of me but I learned to accept it as "His Thing" in the same way that writing was "my thing". I allowed him to have his thing even when it hurt me and left me feeling neglected and isolated. He was a coin collector. He collected knives. He collected police service pins. He was a collector and he had difficulty letting go of things - old clothes, I used to wait until he was at work before I'd go through his closet. We have an old trunk that still has blankets in it from when he was a kid! I don't know what to do with those...now I can't let go of things.
He had a Lion Rampant tattoo near his left iliac crest. He had two webbed toes on each foot inherited from his dad. He liked banana flavored popsicles. He loved to eat Scotch Broth as his first meal after being ill. He was a jello fiend. He was once addicted to coke (coca cola) - we used to laugh at that. He was in a constant search for the perfect lentil soup recipe like the one his mom made for him once as a kid. He once said the best meal he'd ever eaten in his life (and no offence was intended toward me) was a crappy salisbury steak in the hospital after he'd been unconscious for two weeks.
My husband was not a perfect man but he was perfect for me. Even at our worst, we still loved one another. We were going through tough times in terms of communicating and his stress reactions, he was burning out but I never once suspected he would be prone to suicide.
My sister said something the other night that made me think that even despite this incredibly difficult learning lesson, people will still fall back to their old beliefs. She said, "I'm smarter than that." when referring to suicide. "Smarter than that." as though you're suddenly dumb when you're about to take your own life or you have some kind of connection to proper reasoning or logic. I've heard so many over the year, "Stronger than that"; "Not that weak."; "Not stupid."; "Not that selfish." etc. etc.
If you're alive, you're not above it and that is why it's so damned important to work to remove the stigma that surrounds people who take their own lives. They're not defective. They're you and me. They're human. And if we're going to make it okay on the survivors and make it okay for those contemplating to speak up and ask for help, we need to start making more people understand that these people who take their own lives are no different from us.
My husband was not "defective" in any way. He was loved. He was in enmeshed in an internal struggle and he lost the battle.
Okay, getting off my soapbox. He lived. He had a life with me. He was real. I'll love him and miss him eternally.
Astrid_Shadow
Silver Member
@Medic72 Wow you two sound like you were really close. I truly am sorry for your loss Medic and I wish I could do more to help you. All I can really do is offer you my support and a listening ear oh and hugs lots of hugs. He sounds like he was a great guy. I wish you didn't have to go through this and your absolutely right. No one is "defective" I know you loved him, I can see that as clear as day. I wish there was more I could do.
Heather
Diamond Member
@Medic72....I read your posts and even though our situations are vastly different I always find something to relate to and I hope sharing it with you let's you know you are not alone.
Today, I'd had it. Emotionally I was at my wits end. I needed to let it out and a friend just happened to call me and she let me scream and scream and scream some more..... Venting my heartache until I got it out...for the moment anyway
So as gizmo said...you tell it as many times as you need to until its all out...even if you have to do it a thousand times.
You are healing that wound.
Hugs to you.
Today, I'd had it. Emotionally I was at my wits end. I needed to let it out and a friend just happened to call me and she let me scream and scream and scream some more..... Venting my heartache until I got it out...for the moment anyway
So as gizmo said...you tell it as many times as you need to until its all out...even if you have to do it a thousand times.
You are healing that wound.
Hugs to you.
Strongereveryday
New Here
Oh... so terrible! Please, don't suffer in silence! Talk to friends or family, ask someone to stay with you. You need support and love. I am so so sorry. And I think a professional therapist can help too. Sending healing and loving thoughts to you. May you feel better one day (even a little bit better can work sometimes).
- Post starter
- #1,043
My sister came to steal me today. I guess in a way she's becoming that familiar safe (but not 100% safe ) person my husband was on outings. We went to my nieces sons hockey game. There were some tooth gritting moments and some especially loud moments but I survived...and was distracted successfully.
The dog was so happy to see me home again he smiled while furiously wagging his tail. His first smile at me.
Later in the evening I was lying on the floor and the dog came up and rolled over to cuddle right in to me - another first for him and a huge step in our relationship. He's trusting me more!
I thought about my hubby perhaps a little less today but still remembered him when "his" car would pass or I had a good joke to share.
When we got home I had a phone message from a friend whose husband had passed away this morning. Hearing her cry on the phone just tore me up inside. Her hubby was, like her, near 80 but he'd been ill for many years. So far this year, January is a bad month. Just four days ago a childhood friend died of cancer at the age of 46. I'm not liking January anymore.
January took my hubby from me. :(
The dog was so happy to see me home again he smiled while furiously wagging his tail. His first smile at me.
Later in the evening I was lying on the floor and the dog came up and rolled over to cuddle right in to me - another first for him and a huge step in our relationship. He's trusting me more!
I thought about my hubby perhaps a little less today but still remembered him when "his" car would pass or I had a good joke to share.
When we got home I had a phone message from a friend whose husband had passed away this morning. Hearing her cry on the phone just tore me up inside. Her hubby was, like her, near 80 but he'd been ill for many years. So far this year, January is a bad month. Just four days ago a childhood friend died of cancer at the age of 46. I'm not liking January anymore.
January took my hubby from me. :(
- Post starter
- #1,044
Long day today. More hockey then we bought a jigsaw puzzle to work on.
Hubby and I used to like doing puzzles.
Today I was repeatedly struck with the "he's dead and I'm never going to see him again" and I had to stop myself from falling apart.
I'm never going to see him again. :(
Hubby and I used to like doing puzzles.
Today I was repeatedly struck with the "he's dead and I'm never going to see him again" and I had to stop myself from falling apart.
I'm never going to see him again. :(
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