My husband died today

[NarcSis]

Today was a much better day for me. No - well, some - crying but not until I came home.

I went to meet up with my sister. We went out for coffees, then went to spend the day at a local beach just walking and talking. We later went out to dinner and I had a steak. It's been weeks since I've actually eaten any real protein other than eggs. Hubby and I were big meat eaters but since he's been gone, I've barely eaten anything more than cereal or pasta.

We also went to a garden center and I bought a couple of things to place in the garden in his memory; one was a small angel leaning against a heart that says, "I Miss You" on it and the other was a small plaque that reads, "If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again." I almost burst into tears at the garden center when I saw it.

I cried when I came home just after placing the memorials. It hurt but it also felt a little better at the same time. I would like to get something a little more substantial, I was thinking about a celtic cross to place near my angels in the garden and I might carve his paramedic ID number into it. Oddly, while I was at it, I also designed a memorial "stone" or urn container for us, I just need to find out if it can actually be made in the way I want it and how much it's going to cost. That, I would place back home in the cemetery between my parents or at the foot of their graves.

Yesterday was an utter crisis for me. At several points I had to really fight to keep from joining him. I would just get so overwhelmed with sadness and loneliness and just pure soul shuddering pain that I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted to be with him again. I just refuse to accept sometimes that I will never see him again. In those moments the fact that I've already promised myself I will hold on until after the settlement or quite possibly a minimum of two years, didn't matter to me. I just wanted so desperately to be with him again.

The good thing? I got through it. I did my routine all by myself. I stayed in bed. I went limp. I screamed and screamed and hysterically cried and poured tears and begged the universe to give him back to me or just take me but I did not die. I did not give up. I did not act on the thoughts. I fought in the only way I know how. I just let it bring me down and I went limp and refused to get out of bed for any reason (other than bathroom and later when I was feeling a bit better, food).

It's those times that I really wish I had someone I could just call who could come over and make me meals and just be there to make sure I stay safe. I just want to stay safe. I spoke to my sister today and I admitted that I didn't think I could have asked her to come because if she'd said no, it would have just compounded what I was going through. She told me that she wasn't sure if she should even offer to come because "I didn't think you'd want me there." I was crying to her on the phone and saying just how sad I was....

I got through it. I survived. Today I am glad that I am alive. Today I would be naive if I thought that was the worst of it...it's going to happen again at some point. You don't lose the love of your life in that way and not think about going to be with him. I knew this was going to happen. I kept myself safe. And I did it all on my own. I see now how important it is to have some kind of support system. I need to work on that.

I miss him still but it hurts a little less today.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

You are doing so good in my opinion to feel glad to be alive. I think that this thought may be a milestone for you. I am happy that you are having some moments where you get a break from the pain and grief.

You will get to a place where the days will get better and better and you are on your way.:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

Today was a better but still lonely day for me. I had another rough night, waking up every two hours startled by house noises. At one point my phone fell off the night table and I was cowering in the corner of my bed saying, "What was that!?" to the dark room. I realized that there is only me now to solve these things, so I turned on the light and went to investigate the noise. How my phone "fell" off the night stand at 330 in the morning still baffles me. Two hours after that I woke up from a nightmare, propped up on my elbow, staring at my bedroom door and yelling, "Hey!" I woke myself up when I spoke and I was very unsettled so I didn't fall asleep again after that.

There were some firsts today, not only with regard to husband, but with regard to my PTSD. Today was "front lawn" day. The front lawn was always the responsibility of husband because I was always uncomfortable and anxious feeling so exposed on the front lawn. In turn, husband hated the front lawn because it was always so overrun with weeds because he rarely tended to it. Today I breathed in deeply, opened the door and walked out onto my front lawn to begin the arduous task of repairing years of neglect.

My hubby's partner was supposed to come and help me with this task, but I just couldn't wait another week or two to get it done. There is actually only a small window for spring lawn care, it'll be planting season soon, so he's promised to come help me get some veggies in. I still say he's going to laugh when he sees the size of my lawn, his yard has trees - plural - we have a single tree on the tiny front lawn!

So, husband never raked the thatch from our lawn, as a result it took me over an hour to rake a 10 x 30 piece of lawn and get rid of most of the thatch build up. Then I had to mow the lawn, top dress it, over seed, fertilize and water it. I was on my front lawn "exposed" for well over 4 hours. Yay me! I was constantly reassuring myself that I was okay, that there was no one about and I was safe. I had my cell phone with me and a pair of scissors. I got it done. It was a huge accomplishment. I am proud of me and I hope hubby is proud of me.

When I was done, I looked up to the window of the room where I keep his ashes and I thought, "Look what I did, Tin, aren't you so proud of me?"

This evening I made myself a banana split as a treat after dinner to celebrate. I was just taking my first bite when I thought, "The week before he died, I made him braised lamb shanks and banana split for dessert." I almost cried right there. Instead I did this coping thing I used to do when I was recovering from a flashback, I went "little". I said to his picture, "You liked my banana split, huh, Tin? You liked it, 'member, when I maked them for us? 'Member Tin?" Somehow being "little" makes the vulnerability feel appropriate. "Little" kids are vulnerable. so when the adult doesn't like feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable, she goes "little" for a little while. Hubby used to think it was strange but it helped me.

I remember that night I made him those lamb shanks. I'd never made them before but I braised them up nice and then served them on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes. I remember he took one bite of the lamb shank, he got this look on his face and said around his food, "I LOVE YOU!" When I came over to him he stood up and gave me the hardest kiss I've ever gotten in my entire life and he said again, "Oh my God, I love you!" I remember I laughed at him and said, "Uh-uh, you love my cooking!" He went on and on about how good the shanks were and then when we were done, I went back to the kitchen and fixed him a banana split. His whole face lit up. He was the happiest guy in the world on that night. I love that memory. I love how much he was in love with me that night. I'll never forget that kiss, it was the kiss of a man caught up in pure ecstasy. I'm sure if I were a lamb shank, he would've eaten me.

It's hard to think that only seven days later he was dead. No more meals. No more kisses. No more hugs. No more banana splits. No more I love you's.

I was texting with his old partner tonight and he was asking about the raspberry bushes he'd given hubby last year. I told him that they were doing fine and that the one thing I was really super glad about was that those raspberries gave some extremely late fruit last October just after I'd gotten them in the ground. I gave the very first berry to hubby. It made me happy to think that he at least got to enjoy those berries. My hubby hated fake raspberry flavor but he LOVED real raspberries. We shared the fruit from those plants. I think I'll probably cry when they fruit again this year.

I digital copied almost all of the pictures I have of him. I will probably put them on USB memory sticks for his mother and brother.

I'm a little afraid to go to bed again tonight. I may pray to my hubby and ask him to watch over me. I really wish he was still here to watch over me. He was my protector. I miss my hubby so much.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

Way to go on the lawn work. I am proud of you

 

[stillstanding2]

Fabulous that you did your lawn by yourself. Be proud of being proud.

I like your "little" technique too. It's an interesting mental trick that works. I think I've done something similar as an "ice breaker" with myself. Maybe I'll describe it sometime, but it has helped bridge some awkwardness and tension.

 

[NarcSis]

I ran away today. I could feel the loneliness threatening me again so I packed a lunch and disappeared to the park for four hours. I sat talking to the geese, asking them questions while they stared blankly at me. I gave them directions, showed them the things I wanted them to do, ie. "hey, go get me that stick there...(point)" and oddly they would look over at the stick like they knew what I was asking, lol but I'm sure a game of fetch was just too beneath them.

I talk to my husband in my mind all the time now. I look around at the clean up progress in the park and I think, "Tin, wow, see only how much they've done? I don't know if they'll be able to clean this all up by opening day." or I'm trying to decide where to go sit and I'll think, "Over here? Or maybe there....I dunno, what do you think, is this the safer place or is that one it?" At one point I was surprised at the odd reaction from one of the geese, I spoke to him/her as it tried to eat a random fishing float in the river, "Hey, stop that, that's not food!" it paused, looked at me quizzically then tried to eat the float again, so instead I yelled at it again, "Hey, 'zaanyaan ma! (my language), get away from that thing, that's not good to eat." and I gestured toward the float and made a movement like I was slapping my hand. Did that goose not spit the float out, look at me and then move quickly away from the float, looking back at it like it was afraid. My first thought was, "Ha! Look Tin, it's like that goose knew what I said to it!"

I feel him there for some odd reason. He's in the trees, he's in the air and it's like he's all around me when I'm there. Today I turned and looked over toward the area where he used to put his chair in the shade. I imagined him sitting there, pale legs plastered with bug oil. his tan shorts, running shoes with white socks, maroon tee with a gray button down shirt over top, upon his head a wide brimmed hat was always perched. He'd usually have one leg crossed over the other and he'd be staring into his lap watching a movie on his ipod or watching a podcast of some sort with this white cord leading to his earbud. He wasn't there but I could imagine he was and I smiled at him. He always had my back. In my mind I thought, "I love you,Tin. I miss you."

I came home to my sister arriving for the weekend. We sat out on the back deck and I regaled her with the story of my adventure into the park and talking with the geese, she waited for the pause and without missing a beat....began to tell me about her work, the people there, how her re qualification on her handgun went etc. etc. etc. There was no mention of my geese again. Sigh. Tin and I would have talked about it together, he would have contributed or asked questions, even at minimum, he would have just listened and smiled at me or shared his observations from his vantage point. It's kind of tough being in my family, probably why I would have never let go of my hubby if I was given a choice. He validated me. I had meaning with him. I had worth.

I'm not sad when I'm in the park "with him". I'm very comfortable, very at ease and so present. I mean, even though my image of him was drawn from the past, my reaction to that imagining was very present and very real.

He's never coming home to me. His image lives in my mind now. Soon even that will begin to fade. I hardly remember what his voice sounded like and that is sad because I loved hearing his voice; even the snippets in recordings I have don't sound quite like him because they're muffled. He won't ever smile at me again. He won't ever wake up and cutely ask me for "pamcakes" again. No more calling me "snexy" because for some strange reason saying "sexy" made him uncomfortable. No more getting angry over sexual references or turning the channel during any sex scenes in movies - he was strangely uncomfortable around sexual content and yet, would sometimes use terms that I naively had never heard, so he'd laugh at me but never explain!!! Thank you, Google, I now know terms I never imagined hearing!

My husband is gone. The laughter he brought to me. The love he filled our house with. The joy just seeing him brought to my heart. I mean, I felt like a puppy dog most times he was at work, I'd be just waiting for him to come home so that I could see him again. I would always meet him at the door "wagging my tail". The first thing he always got from me was a hug..okay, well after the uniform and all of it's potential diseases and viruses was off. Those last months though, he often came storming through the door, complaints spilling from him like a firestorm, "My partner...." and he'd launch into a tirade about how ridiculously stupid he felt his partner was or some anecdote about how he'd almost gotten hurt that day because of his partner's action or inaction. That guy wore him down to a thread.

In those last few months my husband was ruminating almost constantly about work things. He was taking a lot of sick leave. He was very easily fed up. He would pause while tying up his boots as he prepared to leave the house and say, "I don't want to go to work. Why can't we just win the lottery?" He was getting short with me and beginning to treat me like I was stupid or one of his incompetent coworkers. I started to resent him and most times wished he'd just go to work so I could have some peace from his stress. I didn't know how to take it away other than taking him hiking. My husband was experiencing increased pain from his old injuries, particularly his neck and then he got kicked by a patient and began to experience severe shoulder/upper back pain - this in turn kept him from sleeping properly and we all know the routine about how this affects our stress levels.

His cup was full. His cup only emptied about a tiny tiny fraction on his days off. I did not know how to help him empty it. I wanted to keep us hiking because it helped me and he'd already admitted that it was good for him in that way but his pain increased when we hiked. I didn't know what else to do. He was seeking treatment for the pain, he was getting physiotherapy - and then they hurt him further and things began to spiral out of control. I was so desperate to keep his mind off of work and his pain, I just didn't know what to do. One thing I never did was to confront him about how he was handling things or ask him about how he was tackling his stress....thereby pointing out to him just how high his stress levels were. Most of the time, I was feeling attacked and I'd withdraw so as not to upset him further.

Another thing I never did was to ever stop saying I Love You to him. I said it several times per day. I touched him in some loving way each day, if it was a snuggle or just a brush of my hand on his shoulder, I wanted him to feel me and know I loved him. He would reach for me in the middle of the night, we'd sleep holding hands. He was very vulnerable in those last weeks. I still feel like I turned my back on him that last day when he needed me most. I still feel like a complete bitch for not being able to handle what he was going through with drowning buckets of compassion and love instead of fear, anxiety and frustration. Losing him was my worst nightmare - and that nightmare came true, just like the nightmare that came before it and the nightmare that came before that.

My worst nightmare. Suicide of my Husband, my protector, my confidante, my reflection. He did something I never would have imagined him doing. He killed my Love.

But in that, he did not succeed. I hug his shirt every night, I drink in his smell and I say to him, "I still love you. I do because I promised I would, remember? All around the universe and back? I still love you, you're always in my heart. How you died doesn't matter to me, it hurts but it won't stop me from still loving you. I still love you."

I put that out into the universe each night because if he is still out there somewhere, I want him to know. I want him to feel it. I will always love him. I will always miss him.

 

[NarcSis]

I am anticipating his return.

I think I really just became aware of it tonight even though it's likely been there all along. There is something about gone forever that my mind just can't accept. It wasn't this hard accepting the deaths of my brother, father or mother but him, I feel like our life together was unfinished and there is still more to come. I can't imagine a future that doesn't include him. I don't understand.

I went out and bought a stone cross to put in the garden in his memory, it has a celtic design on it. I didn't know what else to do. I don't know how else to honor him properly. I mean, there was no funeral so this kind of seems unfinished to me. I feel like I haven't done enough to "put him to rest". Having his ashes sitting in a container in the other room doesn't feel like "closure" to me.

I told my sister today that my mind still can't accept that he is dead and he won't ever come home to me. I keep feeling like I am going to see him again sometime in the near future. I actually voiced that nagging little thing that's been hiding in my mind for so many weeks already, "They wouldn't let me see him there. They wouldn't let me see him dead in that car. They wouldn't let me see the wounds, or his body on that scene, so my mind has convinced me on some level that it was all some kind of mistake or cover up. I never saw him "dead" on that day."

I know, I know, there was a funeral. The first day was open casket. I saw him in his casket. I saw his face slathered in make up. I saw the tinge of color they put in his hair. I saw his face looking so alive but I felt his finger so icy cold and smudgy with makeup. I saw his chest not moving at all....again, they did such a good job, he looked alive. In my mind he was never dead and my mind won't let go of that. Lying there in his casket he had this slight smile on his face and I've said this already but it looked like he could just start giggling and sit up and hug me and tell me that this was all a cruel joke on me. In that casket he did not look dead.

I wish I'd actually seen him dead. I wish I had that cruel slap in the face to break this ridiculous charade that my mind keeps going through. I wish there was no doubt....I don't understand why there even is doubt in my mind. Is that just hope struggling to stay alive? Is that just my mind refusing to adjust?

I wasn't ready to let go of him. I didn't know he was capable of killing himself. I didn't know what was going on inside his head. Obviously, I didn't know how long it had been going on for him to have just up and gone through with it. I didn't feel him leave this earth. I still feel like I should have felt something and I should be completely aware of his absence but the mind refuses to let go of the remotest possibility that he is not dead. Big ol' conspiracy theories roll through my thoughts - is that the desperation of trying to hold onto him? What is that? The most fairy tale ridiculous stories run through my mind, like he's joined some super top secret agency and they had to fake his death until his "mission" is over or he had a credible threat on his life from some other organization he'd come in contact through work, so they had to put him in witness protection and they faked his death.....this is why I wasn't allowed to see the body, because there was no body to see. Utterly ridiculous. Grasping at straws.

My mind has never dealt with death easily.

I can't fathom nothing. I can't fathom a blank. Or reincarnation. Or Heaven. Or Hell. Or some glorious perfect land where you get anything you want and everyone loves you. I can't fathom just not existing on some level in THIS world ever again. I have no answer for the term dead. I have no concept of it. It is a complete and super baffling unknown.

Me will be "gone". My name will die. My life will die. My possessions will end up in some refuse pile in some dump, or in someone else's house or my clothes will end up on other people's backs. I can't wrap my head around just not existing anymore. I just don't get it.

I still smell him in his shirt. That smell, that sweaty odorous smell in his clothes that I cringed at while he was alive, I clutch to my face and inhale every single night. It is him in those odor molecules. He's not completely gone. He's right there in those molecules of scent. His body made that smell. It was familiar. It was him. It wasn't a pleasant smell in any way while he was alive but now I feel comforted by it. Bits of "him" are still right here with me. If I wake up afraid I bury my face in the armpit of his shirt and I inhale him and I can feel my body calm and start to feel safe again. He made me feel safe in this world. How could he leave me?

I had a disturbing dream last night. I dreamed I was at work, at one point I saw husband pass by as though we were in a hospital hallway. He had a patient on a stretcher and I was just taking my stretcher back to my unit. I went looking for him when I was done. I searched the hallways but I couldn't find him so I went outside and I was outside of the church where we had his funeral. I was chatting with some people and wondering how I was going to get back home on my own, it was dark out. Husband, in uniform, came out the front door of the church and I said to him, "Hey, is it time to go home?" and he looked at me and said, "Yeah, but you're staying here." and he turned and started walking away from me. I shouted after him, "Hey, what do you mean?" He didn't acknowledge me, he just kept walking away down the stairs toward the fence. I got extremely sad and angry and I plopped myself down onto the side of the concrete walkway and cried out, "Don't leave me here!!! Pleeeeease! Please don't leave me here!" I woke up with a tear rolling down my cheek.

I still want him to come back. I still expect him to come back. I feel like so much remains unfinished between us.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

I was sad today even with my sister here. I think she kind of started me off on a bad foot today when she came into my room to wake me up this morning. I woke up feeling good about myself and feeling a little better about hubby knowing that he was "here" with me in some way because I was hugging his shirt and smelling him. Then my sister came in to sit and talk like she does every morning when she's here now and like she used to do when we were kids. I never noticed just how condescending and judgmental she is of other people. She talks down about other people as though she is better or more well off or more entitled than other people.

Anyway, she began going off about people who don't deserve to be on disability and "as long as I can use my arms and legs, then I'll be working in some way." I'm sorry, I never qualified for a disability pension, so I was off for the past 3 years with NO INCOME, why? Because even though I have use of my arms and legs, I can't f'ing deal with everyday stresses and I can't even get a job on a stupid assembly line for crying out loud!!! I just went on about how when I had to start applying for those types of jobs - warehouse worker, nursery jobs, farm help etc. - a piece of me died inside because I saw myself as so much more with two university degrees. These were the very last avenues of hope for me in the working world and I couldn't even get one of those jobs.

I could use my arms and legs and I STILL could not get a job to help my husband carry the financial responsibility of this house. I placed so much responsibility on his shoulders. If it wasn't for me not being able to work, maybe he wouldn't have been under so much stress. I didn't want to say that aloud, but it's been eating at me all day. I couldn't help him. I couldn't help him and he died and I feel so much like it's all my fault, if I didn't get stupid PTSD or if I'd just been able to push through it and keep working like so many other paramedics just seem to do, then maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe he'd be happy right now and we'd be picnicking at the park and doing the things we used to do.

I couldn't help him. I couldn't be compassionate and understanding anymore. I tried to be. Was I an abusive wife? Did I get frustrated with the little things in life too many times? I know when he'd spill something on the floor he'd jump up right away and move like he was about to be yelled at - because in those early days of PTSD I would yell at him. I would flip out like the world was ending when he'd spill something or drop something or break something. Did I create a situation in this house where he no longer felt loved or supported or cared for? Did I make him depressed?

He lost interest in sexual activity with me about two years ago - was he depressed for that long? What caused it? Two years ago was when I got fired and he had to deal with my repeatedly wanting to die. That could NOT have been easy on him. That being said, he was never big on sex anyway, he was always very prude. I was also going through some strange reproductive issues as well, so my interest was waning too. Sex didn't matter to me. I wanted to talk about it but he'd get angry and refuse to talk; it wasn't ever his favorite topic.

He was moody. He was disappearing into his laptop more and more. In those last few months he was getting very short with me, treating me like his coworkers, making false accusations, getting paranoid but again, we've been through this before. He always got through it and his mood would improve after a few months - what in hell caused him to just up and suddenly die this time???

I keep thinking that I could not have been good for him if he was suffering from depression. I think about my future and I think that perhaps it would be best for me to be on my own for the rest of my life - maybe I'm not good for anyone, maybe it would be best to not subject another person to me. Maybe my depressive outlook, my inability to see the joy in everything, maybe THAT is what caused his depression...maybe I killed his hope for a better life.

I found some books about how to fix your marriage in among his things. Were we in trouble? Was it my fault? Did he consider leaving me at any point? How bad was I for him? Did he die to get away from me?

In some way, did I kill the life inside of him? Did he die because of me? :(

 

[scout86]

Not long ago, I had a talk with my T about a friend who shot himself. I had a bunch of questions I'd been keeping to myself. Not exactly the same as yours, but similar. Part of his answer to me was that my friend was suffering from depression because his brain chemistry was messed up. There are different reasons for that, some of them as yet unknown. My friend also had PTSD and a bunch of other stresses in his life. Things might have gone differently than they did. But they didn't........ It wasn't your fault.

As far as your marriage goes, maybe he thought there were problems and it was HIS fault. It's common for people to blame themselves, even when it's not true. (Just like you're doing.) I don't think you were bad for him. Sounds to me like you were the light of his life. I think you were good for each other. I don't know why he shot himself, but I'm sorry things went the way that they did. It wasn't your fault.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

I agree that it is not your fault but understand the self doubts and self examination you are experiencing. He made a choice and no one forced him nor twisted his arm, you did not want that to happen, he did for his own reasons that he kept to himself.

It does hurt but I would not be so hard on you and blame you for his choice. I think it was rotten of him not to leave a note to you giving you some closure. But Please do not blame yourself or go down that path.:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

My sister will be back on Wednesday for a full week which means I will not have the option to have a "sad" day which also means that when she finally does leave I'm going to go through the loneliness/withdrawal phase hard again.

She made a FB post for Mother's Day going on and on "to our mom" how she's looking after me and caring for me - she comes to visit, she can't afford anything so I end up spending all of my non-renewable dollars when she's here. Yep, ma, she's looking after me.

I gave her $1000 because I can't stand hearing about how difficult it will be for her to pay her bills!!! It doesn't matter that I will have insurance payments and repair bills in the future...and my bills won't stop just because he died...but she is a saint, we mustn't forget that. How blessed I am to have her. :(

You see? I can't just be happy can I? I mean ALL of my other family has gone back to their lives and disappeared, at least she's still here, right? She's not the best person for me but in this life, there was no one person fully here for me other than hubby. She's the best I've got now. I should just appreciate that. I never appreciate what I have.

I was using one of hubby's "perfect juice glasses" this morning and thought about how he'd hidden them in the far back of the cupboard because he didn't want the remaining ones to break. We never used them - so what exactly was the point of owning them? I'm using them, if they break, they break, life will go on. It's not like I can take them with me when I die. I look around at all the STUFF in this house, none of it means anything after you die - cheap candle holders, knick knacks, framed prints, figurines, sun catchers - it all just becomes "junk" after you die. All these things that I love right now, that make me feel I have worth or value? All of it meaningless once I'm no longer here to assign meaning to it.

All of the things he loved, it's all just stuff now. Even the money, it's all just meaningless without him here, I can't use it to give him the things he wants. I can't take him anywhere with it. Instead it just goes to pay utility companies that love to gouge into you. Meaningless.

We can't go anywhere with his money anymore to make him smile. It's hard for me to feel happy or glad about inheriting his life's worth of money because he's not here to share it with.

When will I feel safe and comfortable ever again?