My husband died today

[NarcSis]

Today was a wasted day. I woke up at 9 am and after rolling over, hugging and kissing his blanket, I asked him if he'd like to watch movies.

We'd done this one day, it was a special treat for us. We took one Saturday and we just decided to designate it movie watching day, so we woke up, snuggled in close and watched a movie. Afterward we had our breakfast and then went straight back to bed for more hardcore movie watching. Essentially, apart from going downstairs to eat meals, we stayed in bed together the whole day and just watched movies. I loved that day.

I had that day over again today - but of course, I couldn't stay in bed the whole day, so I finally dragged my butt downstairs at 3pm. I just feel so much more comforted in bed because that is where we spent the majority of our time together in recent years - he worked late hours but he was home every single night with me and I thank God for each and every one of those nights.

I've been keeping my posts short lately because of the issue with my laptop - the power cord is broken, so I've been without my laptop to "write" for a week already - it's been driving me insane. Of course, tonight it hits me that hubby also owned a laptop computer and while I've been going insane without being able to 'write', I could have been using his laptop. So here I am trying to get used to his keyboard, so small!

I had a bit of a meltdown with my sister on the phone today. She just keeps triggering me by being so depressive, she just makes these statements that are blatant signs of a depressive thinking, things like, "well, my life has no meaning anyway." or "I'm going to retire in five years and just die anyway,everyone does after they retire." In five years she'll only be 50!! It is just so damned triggering to me when she starts in on that path of thinking, I just flashback to that day and how he killed himself and how if he can do it then anyone can and no one will see it coming - I don't ever want to go through that again. I burst into tears screaming at her about how I can't lose anyone like that, and how I'm so afraid it'll happen to our brother with depression, who thanks to some f'd up clueless investigator got to see the inside of the car where his brother-in-law killed himself!!

She went in on the lecture about how she's not depressed, she laughs and smiles and gets out of bed every day, she doesn't just mope around - yeah, because all depressed people mope around!!! Uggh, but no, no, she's the psychology expert! I told her she needs to get help for this depression that lives deep inside her or she needs to start doing something to help herself because I can't lose another person in my life. She needs to find some way to start loving herself and appreciating what she has instead of hating everyone for what they have that she doesn't. comparing herself endlessly to others and coming up short in her own mind and then saying shit like, "I'm not pretty. No one would ever like me." or swinging completely the other way and speaking out of ...??? I don't know what it is when someone says things like, "Huh, she thinks she so smart, but she's just dumb, she's ugly and so stupid, she always tries to make me feel stupid, but she's the stupid one." UGGGHHHH!

I don't want anyone else I know to die. I'm terrified to think that soon my siblings will start to die. Life doesn't usually get easier as you get older, it usually gets more challenging, I just don't want anyone to think there is no way out other than to kill themselves. It's just a complete nightmare to me now. I don't trust in anyone anymore and when I start to hear those depressive slants, i start to panic now. I want to place them all in glass cases so they're safe.

I've also noticed that as i feel "better" and not so sad, there is a growing expectation inside of me, it's like I'm just biding my time now waiting for everything to return to normal. I was making lunch today and thought, only a little while longer and i'll be making lunch for two again. It just seemed like such a perfectly normal expectation. I'm walking around with this sense that he's somehow, in some way coming back! Like I'm going to see him again soon.

I'm not. I'm never seeing him again. Things are not going to go back to normal. They just aren't.

I found another video on his laptop today, he's speaking in it. I heard his voice and reached over to "squeeze his hand" and say, "Hey, Tin, that's you talking!" I grasped a handful of his blanket and squeezed it.

Is it wrong for me to pretend he's here with me? It feels wrong to try to go on and pretend he never existed. I don't know how else to explain things like my being able to smell him so strongly some nights, or my text notification going off for no reason, or all of my electronics going screwy in some way. He has to be here in some way.

When I used to get little with him, I would usually say to him, "Tin, I only need to be little for a little while, K?" Well, lately I've been thinking, maybe I need to pretend he's still here with me, maybe I need to pretend it so that I can get through this and not feel so lonely. Maybe I only need to pretend it for a little while, K?

I hug him and kiss him and talk to him every night. I give him "squishies" like I used to. I ask him questions. I "tickle" him, even though he never laughed because he wasn't ticklish. I hold his hand and tell him he's not alone, he'll never be alone as long as I love him. All of that makes me feel better. It helps me hold him in my heart and not in my mind. It helps to cover up that day - pretend he never went away from me.

I feel my love for him and it's helping me.

 

[Tinyflame]

Perhaps too @Medic72 you feel his love for you back. :hug:

 

[Deleted member 12723]

I do not think that what you are doing is wrong since it seems to comfort you and I am all for comfort to get you through this loss.:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

I went to lunch with a friend yesterday. She was without any kids for the day. We got so involved in our conversation that we lost track of time, we met at 10am and when we left the restaurant we'd sat through the lunch hour and the early dinner crowd was starting to move in. Oddly I felt kind of bad for having taken up a table so long and not ordered another meal or further drinks.

It was so great to be able to speak to someone about all of this stuff I've been dealing with though, the fact that my sister can be so not helpful but at the same time, helpful and just how wound up and confused I am for needing her and hating her at the same time - maybe it's just me. She shared with me the story of her mom's sudden loss and asked me about how my mom died (I never knew I hadn't told her that story). Eventually, I sadly, went into that spiral that is the re-telling of that day when my husband died again - she's probably heard that at least three times already. I just....uhhh, it's so hard not to get pulled into that story, you don't breathe, you feel like it has to spill out of you and damned be the one who interrupts the telling of that story, huh?

I think this is why we lost track of time. I could see it in her eyes when she told the story of her mom's death, that near frantic trance you go into where the story just drags itself out of your mind and leaves you unable to stop it. Like it has a life of it's own. I used to get like that telling the horror of how my mom died, now I get like that telling the story of how my husband died.

I read an article called 30 days and it's about the month preceeding the death of a woman's husband by suicide. He told her he was thinking of suicide. He came out with it and he told his wife that he was considering suicide...thirty days later, he went through with it despite everything they did in the intervening days to try to prevent it. He still died. I think when I read the article, I was disappointed in the first paragraph because he voiced his wish. My hubby never said a damn thing, there were no subtle hints that he was considering suicide, there was no ongoing plan, there was none of this stereotypical bullcrap that people with long term depression spew or the cookie crumbs they leave that people only see after the fact. The only thing he said was "I have to settle my affairs" and that was only hours before he completed his final act.

I get so mad because of how many stereotypical stories get played out every day and even though everyone gets shattered in the same way, feeling it was unexpected, there are some of us for whom it was truly unexpected. There was never a hint of sadness. There were stressful life events, there was building pressure, there could have even been identifiable trigger points but there was nothing to indicate with any clarity that this was going to be the outcome. There was no word uttered. There were no threats issued. There were no notes left behind. There was no chance. No hope. No possibility of stopping it.

In the end, it was beyond our control.

My friend said something yesterday about her mom's death that I just let slide; she said that at least with her mom's death it was something there was no choice in but with the way he died, he made a choice. I don't think he did, he merely took the only way out visible at the time - you can't choose if all there is is one thing. I guess you could refuse to choose and in that continue to exist by default, but I don't think acting out of panic and anguish is a true choice. If his head were clear, he would have chosen not to die. he wouldn't have wanted that but he was blinded by anguish, he was blinded by thinking errors, he was blinded by emotional reasoning and he died by his own hand. She's never been there.

I saw the fear in her eyes when I said I know how easy it is to want to go through with it. How strong that pull of panic is and running toward the unknown is less of a choice and more of a mindless compulsion. I know because I've come so close to just running down that rabbit hole, running away from everything that hurts so badly in those moments. It's like when your nervous system starts to ramp up on overdrive, all you want to do is sit still but your body wants to just get up and jump around or run or run straight into a wall just to satisfy that need to move. I know how deep sadness or hopelessness can take you there so insanely quickly.

It just so was not him. It was so against everything he stood for, everything he was as a person. It was so ridiculously human. Like at the core of every one of us is this obsession to know death and to think that in some ways life itself is the punishment we endure. I spoke to her about how I understand and at the same time I don't understand - I get it from a logical standpoint, my mind can grip it in some ways but my heart can't and parts of my brain refuse to understand and believe that he could do that.

I told her about how I'm living my life constantly expecting things to eventually just get back to normal - him back home, as though he's going to return to me at some point in the future, like I'm just biding my time now until he comes back. Making dinner, struggling to figure out what to feed myself and thinking, "Uggh, can't wait until I'm able to go back to cooking big meals again for us." and then catching myself and getting upset because there's that part of me that just won't let go, just won't come to terms with the finality of everything that's happened with him.

He's in a marble container upstairs. everything that was him was burned to ash but I don't feel him there. I feel him in my bed, with me, like we always were. I feel him most there at night with me and I hate that nights turn to day and I have to be "away" from him down here in the rest of the house. I still struggle with what becomes of us after death. I've never known a death quite like this one. I've known of them, known the person but I've never been directly affected by it. I'm directly affected by this.

I struggle with knowing precisely where he is, if he is. I believe the We that we are leaves the body at the time of death but I don't know precisely what to believe in terms of conceptualizing that "leaving". Did his "essence" seep into the car or the ground below it as his blood soaked into everything? Did some of "him" remain with the body and get turned to ash and is in fact in that container? Was "he" wandering around that scene watching, trying to figure out what had happened to cause him to be out of sync with my reality? Did the "he" he was get trapped by the ritual my brother performed at the scene and did he in fact get bound to my brother in those days? Was the counter ritual they did enough to return "him" to the house here with me or is that all just hokus pokus ridiculous belief? Sometimes I feel his essence, sometimes I catch his scent so strong, sometimes I feel pressure on my shoulders as I sleep as though someone is hugging me, sometimes things go awry for no explanation. I pray it's him but it's hard to believe in it. Other times I find it hard to smell him, I don't feel a presence, I don't sense him - can he come and go from the house and choose to visit others?

I tell him every day that I still need him with me. I tell him every day how loved he was. I tell him every day that I will never let go of him and he will never be alone.

 

[Tinyflame]

Dear @Medic72 , I cannot answer the questions but maybe this is one possibility: I do also as you do believe we have a spirit or soul or essence, & yes the ashes are sacred but one's spirit, I believe, is free- free most especially to remain where most loved- obviously this would be with you. If you have the ability to notice or sense that, that is a gift. Even Einstein said we see in 3D, but it may be infinite 'dimensions' are possible. Meaning that other things are there we do not have the dimensional-eyesight to see. There is a saying something like kick over a stone & many angels are under it.

My friend said that at least with her mom's death it was something there was no choice in but with the way he died, he made a choice. I don't think he did, he merely took the only way out visible at the time - you can't choose if all there is is one thing. I guess you could refuse to choose and in that continue to exist by default, but I don't think acting out of panic and anguish is a true choice. If his head were clear, he would have chosen not to die. he wouldn't have wanted that but he was blinded by anguish, he was blinded by thinking errors, he was blinded by emotional reasoning and he died by his own hand. She's never been there.

I believe this is part of the second anguish you're faced with- people don't get it. Thank God you understand. If you feel up to it, check out Ron Rolheiser's writings on suicide, because I think you will find them consoling. Like he said it's often the people who are too sensitive, not wilfully choosing to abandon others or because they are selfishly choosing, not at all. ETA, though he is Roman Catholic, as he says there is no reason either to fear "God" being angry/ condemning; quite the opposite. If we get it 'a little bit' God gets it 'a lot'. If we can feel compassion, how much more does 'God' feel? He calls it the equivalent of emotional cancer, & just like any type of cancer sometimes people survive, sometimes there's remissions, sometimes people don't. Not the person's fault, not entirely within their or other's control.

I know he has an article- something about provided we love someone, that person- no matter what-remains connected to God & us. I can't recall more of what he said about that, but it made sense reading it.

If any of this is not helpful @Medic72 just ignore. It's simply, for you, 1000x more difficult. No words. :cry: Hang in there.

:hug: :hug: :hug: xoxox

 

[NarcSis]

Thank you @Junebug I will look up Ron Rolheiser.

I find I'm rolling over every morning and talking to him like we used to when he was alive - he's not answering me, at least, i don't hear him, so I'm not having delusions or anything but I swear sometimes the scent in his shirt actually gets stronger as I'm talking. I think it's funny how when he was alive he would smell himself or his shirts when he took them off and pucker up his face and say, "Ick, I'm stinky." I never noticed how "strong" he smelled, I kind of liked it, that being said, there were times when it was particularly hot when he'd be on his days off and wouldn't shower for a full day, so he'd have two days worth of scent on him - it wasn't the prettiest smell in the world.

I'm not sure if every couple does it, but in our relationship we could get really cutesy with one another, I'd get little, he'd get semi-little as much as he could allow himself too and we'd have cutesy little kid chats in bed. We'd be silly with one another, he'd tickle or kick me in the butt or spank me and I'd roll over on him and give him "smushies". I'm doing that to his blanket/shirt now and I'm placing my hand on it and massaging it like I used to do when I'd rub his chest or the back of his head. He used to like that, we hadn't done that in a long time, I'd face him in bed, put my hand up on the back of his head and stroke the back of his neck while we talked. I miss that.

I also used to wake up sometimes, smush him and give him kisses all over his chest - I'm doing those same things every morning now with his blanket/shirt. It makes me feel like he's still here. It makes me feel happy when I wake up. It's actually easier for me to fight back the depression and sorrow to feel like he's here with me. I can still "get little" with him and smile and giggle and tell him things and remind him of things we used to do and things he used to like and I tell him about the things I did or the things I dreamed about. Then I'll just lay there, like I used too on his chest; I imagine I can feel him under me. I used to press my ear to his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

Last night I was lying on the couch, like I used too when he was alive and imagining that I was resting my head on his leg again. I was talking to him and telling him that I missed him and I wished he didn't have to go away and that I would give anything just to have him hug on me just one more time - just feel the pressure of his arm around my shoulder again. Of course, that made me cry so hard. It's hard to face the realization of never being able to actually feel him physically again. So tough.

I went to a park today with my sister, my brother works there and so we brought him a picnic lunch. It was a nice day out but I swear every single time I go anywhere now I see "his car". I'm just so acutely aware of that model of car now, I never used to notice it this often when he was alive. Most of the time it's okay because the car is a different color but today, when I was telling my sister a story about something I'd done recently, a silver car exactly like his passed us on the roadway - I couldn't remember what I was talking about, my mind went completely blank the second that car came into view. Afterward i saw it several times in several different colors. White. Maroon. Black. Gray. At one point were two cars, one behind the other, the first was the same model as the old car he used to drive before this last one he had - the car I passed was exactly that one, color and all - but even stranger, it was followed by the exact car he was driving when he died, again, make, model, color and all. It was kind of eerie to me.

He's everywhere now. He's never more than a second from my mind. He's in everything I look at. I just miss him so. I wonder if that will always be or if it too will fade with time.

Oh yes, another sort of wary occurrence today. I received an IM through FB from a man on a widows/widowers group I'm on through fb. First off, none of the women have chosen to private message me, all of our communications and sharing is out in the open on the site in the comments where we support one another etc. Suddenly there are these two men "liking" my posts and replying to my comments and NOW one of those two is private messaging me wanting to know "my story" of how my husband died!? Talk about Red Flags popping up everywhere in my brain. Are there honestly sick people out there who seriously pray on the recently widowed???? Sure the message seemed innocent enough, "If you want to talk about your loss, I am looking for someone to share with." But, from a FB group??? Nope, sorry. I simply deleted the message.

I didn't know whether to notify the administrators of the page that I'd received a personal contact from a male in the group who wanted to "swap stories" and "share grief" because, again, I'm not sure if it's entirely inappropriate, that being said, none of the females in the group are doing this so......red flags.

I told my sister today that I don't want anyone really to know that I'm widowed - if people think I'm still married and have a husband who comes home every evening and children off to college, then fine, no one needs to know about my personal situation unless i choose to share it with them. She was laughing because the contractor for my roof was asking about my husband - "he work long hours I never see him yet!" and I just phoney laughed and said, "Well, yes, he was home the last time you came but he was sleeping. He works long hours." The last thing you want is strangers to know your situation! I mean, just because your spouse died suddenly doesn't mean you have to broadcast it everywhere to everyone. ALL of her coworkers know what happened with me and several of her male colleagues have been hinting about wanting to come here to "help me" with things or asking when I'm having a yard sale - STRANGERS!!! Nope, not going to happen. Not letting strangers into my life unless it's on MY terms.

I'm only in the fourth month after his death for crying out loud. I have good days and I have worse than bad days and there doesn't seem to be anything in between. I'm trying to keep busy but I know with the PTSD, if I push too hard for too long things go awry with my coping and I end up in a bad emotional frame - I don't need that right now. I just need to keep up some form of social contact at least once per week so that I can fight this loneliness. I'm going to be okay. I'm going to get through this. I'm going to keep moving forward.

I am going to do everything I can to keep going forward.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Medic72 I think that by deleting that conversation was a very good thing for you to do. And not broadcasting that you are alone, funny, yet very smart. Keep on writing so you can look back and measure your progress if you want to.

I also believe in the Creator and I cannot prove it but He loves me and I feel loved. It took me many years to come to this point in my life.

While I was care giving twenty four seven it was if God disappeared and now I realize that I had no life at all taking care of my husband and being so caught up in worrying about my husband. It took me to go through my season of grieving for Him to reveal Himself back into my life.

I believe that your husband was a good man and that he is in a good place right now waiting for you. I believe that it is timeless there because it is a forever place.

Keep on loving your husband and talking to him. Many people do that and I sometimes do it myself. You are not alone.:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

I did a lot today, well, not really a lot just 4 hours of steady backbreaking work around the yard. I was lifting patio stones and replacing weedbarrier, then while I was on the ground decided to de-weed the rock area between my and the neighbor's house and THEN I decided to pull the stone area I have on our side and replace the weed barrier underneath it - and get rid of all of the weeds there too. I think it was a little much for one day because I just had a pretty severe crying episode.

I have essentially been sitting for the rest of the day giving my back a break but just as I came up the stairs to bed, I started to feel off inside. I'm not sure exactly what it was, sorrow, agitation or anxiety, all I know is that when I laid down in bed and rolled over to hug his blanket, I was suddenly swallowed up by this intense crying jag. I hugged his blanket and cried, "why did you leave me? why did you do it, Tinny? I needed you. I still need you. How come you left me? You knew I needed you. I loved you, I never loved anyone else, just you. I don't want to be alone. You're supposed to be here with me. You said you'd be here until we got old. You promised, Tin, you promised me we'd be together forever, remember? How come you're not here!?"

At one point I was just silently shaking but it felt like there was something in there that needed to come out, so I opened my mouth and thought to myself, "I really don't care if the neighbors hear me." And it came out in these long howls, a constant loud exhaling of pain until I had nothing left in my lungs. Then like a little kid I just sucked in breath in these broken little fits with cries in between.

I ask the same things over and over every time. "Why did you do it?" "How could you do it?" "Why would you want to leave me?" and then I start with the begging, "Come back. Please come back to me. God, please, I need him, please bring him back. Wake me up from this nightmare and make it all okay again. Put it back the way it was. I NEED him. Please, please, please, wake me up from this nightmare. I want it to be okay again. I just want things to go back to when he was here. Please bring him back."

Oh and then there's the, "Why didn't you just come back to bed, Tin? Why didn't you just ask me for help? Why didn't you come to me!? There was nothing wrong, we could have got through it, Tin, you didn't have to do that, you didn't have to leave me. Why, Tin, Why did you want to leave me alone?"

I wish I could just talk to him. I wish I could just hug him and tell him it's all going to be okay again. I wish I could just make him feel better and stop him from going to that stupid basement and getting that stupid gun and driving away from here. Why in hell did I not get up that morning!?

I have people say to me, "It worked out the way it was supposed to work out." Ummm, that doesn't help me! Why in hell was he "supposed to" die??? Why??? Why not that person? Why not someone else's husband? Why not someone else in that company? Why not everyone who's ever crossed me??? Why did HE HAVE TO die??

And yeah, I do wonder why me. What did I do in this life to deserve everything in my life to fall apart so many times? What did I do wrong? Is this some kind of punishment for something?

I know those are common questions. I know I did nothing wrong. I know his suicide has nothing to do with me and my life but still those questions are there.

Four months. I felt like I was getting better.......
.......
.....Aha, I got an email from his brother today!!! And there boys and girls is the trigger!!

I got an email from his brother asking how I was doing, telling me his oldest is graduating from computer science later this month and his youngest is returning to school in the fall. This is the first time he's mentioned the boys to me - the boys who didn't come to their ONLY uncle's funeral. I told his brother that I'm staying busy so that I don't think too much and that is true - I'm doing all of these projects that I could have done last year but just never got around too. I've done a crap load of work around here already, projects that were once "In June we'll do...and in July we'll do...." I just did in about three days. It's almost like I'm somehow punishing myself with work. I just feel I have some use in life if I'm slogging in the dirt and doing backbreaking manual labor. I have to have a point to existing, if that point is to get done all of the projects that have been on the back burner for years, then so be it. I'm realizing now, just how lazy I was while he was alive - I mean, other than housework, I did nothing around here!! The yard looked like crap and the projects are no longer "maybe one day I'll...", they're I HAVE TO.

I told his brother that I'm thinking of getting a dog. I'm hoping the dog will be enough of a distraction but I also worry that it may be a bit of a tax on my coping ability - I won't know until I get it. At least with a rescue there is a trial period for the dog and the organization checks up on you. I'm starting to get anxious. I put in the application for a dog yesterday and they already tried to call me today - it's all so fast! The pre-screening process takes two weeks, they have to do a home visit and then I get visits with the dog to see if we're suited to one another and then if it's a good match, I get the dog. Whew, anxiety just thinking of it.

I asked his brother if we can try to meet up somewhere for lunch before he moves. He's moving 6 hours away, so I will likely never see him again, I'd like to give him something of his brother's or return his Dad's sketches to the family. Oh and I'd also like to finally be able to give his mom her share of the ashes and return my husband's Scottish regalia to the family - even though it didn't ever originate in their family, his mother said it was tradition to give it back so it stays in the family, so I've packed it up and it's waiting to go to her. Plus I've got a bag filled with old family photos that they should keep, it's not my history and we have no children, so those should go to the grand kids maybe.

I'm hoping he can make time to meet for lunch before he goes. Again, I'll be saying a "final goodbye" to him soon; that's going to hurt all over again - not that they were close to us or anything, it's just I have a real issue with goodbye's now. Somehow I think history may repeat itself though, he'll be gone and I'll find out from his mother months afterward. Oddly, I still consider him my brother-in-law and his mom, I still consider my Mother-in-law, even though technically, all ties I had to them are now lost. When do you "let go" of the in-law thing?

My husband loved his little brother. He was proud of his little brother. He was also so hurt by the fact that other than Best Man at the wedding, he hardly heard from him. My hubby always reasoned that "we're too busy" and his brother "had the kids", but when "kids" go to college and your brother moves without telling you - well, I know it hurt him. Considering he only had one brother, and since my sister was almost always over here visiting us and I made the trek home all the time to see my family, it had to be hard on him to compare families. I know it was hard on me, I never understood his family and how distant they were. You're FAMILY for crying out loud.

It makes me wonder how they felt when my nieces and nephews stood up and eulogized their "Uncle" and cried terribly at his funeral. They knew him. He didn't like it but they called him "uncle" because he was their uncle. I think my hubby tried to keep my family at arms length like he did his own family but my family would have none of that, he joined our family the day he started dating me. He was their Uncle and they cried when he died. They were proud of him. His own blood nephews didn't even show up.

I'll never understand that.

I'm trying to think of happy memories, lately it's really difficult. I'm here in bed thinking about how he'd poke my nose or knock my teddy bear clear across the bed, so I'd make it jump on his chest and "stare" at him. I made the teddy bear call him "daddy", so he'd argue with the teddy bear saying that he couldn't be his father because he didn't have fur. (Teddy bears don't have real fur!, tee hee hee). My teddy is a polar bear, so Tin would always point out that the "kid" was also black, so there's no way he could be the father (polar bears have black skin under their fur, LOL). My hubby was a silly boy and he made me smile all the time. And I had this knack of making him smile that he hated - even when he was mad, I could make him smile by staring at him. That didn't work leading up to his death. He just withdrew from me even more.

I miss his smile. I miss how his eyes would light up. I miss making him happy. I miss hugging him, kissing him and holding his hand. I loved that man so much.

 

[Stickler]

:(. Listening.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug: The day will come to you when you will become flooded with so many happy memories, but not yet. Your howl in other cultures is called keening so normal. I think by keeping yourself busy with hard work is very good for you, it will keep you from neglecting you. You might even start to sleep better and it is good for endorphins for you.

I am really proud of you because I understand how very hard it is to face each bleak and empty day and yet you continue to go forwards anyway.

I really hope that you get a good dog and will be amazed at how much the love between the both of you will grow and bond.

You are doing good. Just keep on writing and breathing. So very proud of you.

The questions are part of the hardest part I think because you may or may not find some answers that comfort you. Everyone asks the why questions it is so normal.

Platitudes are a real pain in the ass. I agree with you that some things would be better off being unsaid. I hope that I have not said anything to hurt you at all.:hug:

 

[NarcSis]

I'm missing him so much today. I'm taking today as a day of rest - so no yard work today, I just sat on my butt watching tv like how hubby used too. I don't know how he would do that, no wonder his back hurt all the time, it actually hurts physically to do nothing.

I woke up thinking about whether he loved me or not - I know, all evidence over the years points to the fact that he loved me intensely but with him leaving without an explanation, without a reason, I automatically blame myself. I've always been like that, I blame myself for everything bad that's happened in my life. He was the only good thing that happened in my life, the rest of it was just blah accomplishments, he was the one thing I was most proud of. Did I ever say that to him? Did I ever show him enough love? Why can't I let go of that question? Is it just because of the suicide? Is that a common thing to wonder after suicide?

I just feel so alone right now, so uncared for. I know I have friends, I know they're giving me time as often as they can afford to but I guess I just feel like he was the only one who actually cared for me in this world...but what if I was wrong about that? What if I was just blind in those last few months or years? What if I was ignoring him and he was falling out of love with me? Why did he keep those books about saving your marriage and deciding on divorce? How long did he have those books? How long did he think we were in trouble? (Did he think we were in trouble?) Why when I invited him to couple therapy with me did he reject that outright?

I just got off the phone with my sister and I guess this is where this whole thing is coming from. I just spent an hour feeling devalued. When I speak with her over the phone the call is less conversation and more someone talking at me purging the contents of their day or days since we've last spoken and when I start sharing the things I've done, I get a disinterested "Oh yeah." and then she moves straight back to her stories. Nothing I say holds any value. Nothing I say is interesting to anyone anymore. I feel alone and lonely in this world.

Husband and I used to converse. There were pauses for contributions and sharing of opinions. It was a conversation, it wasn't a one-sided purging of stories and then, "good bye". Hubby would ask about me. He would wonder what I'd done, he would care and we would talk about things that were NOT work related; we shared interests. Yes, when I speak with my sister the call usually starts with, "Hi, whatcha doin'?" but she honestly doesn't care, that's just a conversation starter designed to get me to ask about her. Just once again in this life I'd like things to be about me again. I'd love to be able to share with someone and I'd love to be able to be open about what I'm feeling.

I'm afraid. I'm lonely. I'm hurting. I'm tired of pretending I'm okay. I'm tired of working myself so hard in order to prevent myself from thinking. I would just like to be able to sit down with someone and say to them, "you know what? I'm sad. I think about him all the time. I cry a lot. All those happy pics my sister posts of me are not a true reflection of how I really feel. I need a hug. I need you to say that it's okay to feel this way and you're not going to be afraid when i say that sometimes I want to die." Because, honestly, sometimes I just want to die without him.

I've been through a lot over the past 8 years. Why am I even still here? What is the point? Why was it "his time" and not mine??? How much longer do I have to wait and how much more do i have to endure? Will it all be like this? Will life get better for me, even if it does, will it Be better without him?

My T is hinting that she thinks my sister is a narcissist and that scares me because without her, I have no one in my life. My T says that perhaps my sister needs to feel needed why she comes here and once that need is met, she no longer goes out of her way to come back - my sister has no real plans to spend time with me in the near future, likely because I told her I needed space so I'm not repeatedly having to deal with goodbyes and leaving. All or nothing. Then there's the depressive thinking that she seems to use to hurt me, when I say things she doesn't like, which my T has labelled emotional manipulation. I don't know, I hesitate to call her a narcissist, really because of the negative connotation involved in that and the danger. I just think my sister is a bit less intelligent than I am, definitely emotionally clueless about other people and self absorbed.

But so was i before I met my husband! My family are all emotionally inept. We don't deal with emotion so we just pretend it doesn't exist. I was socially awkward, unfamiliar with social etiquette, hell, I still don't know how to treat visitors when they come to my home - I think of things like offering meals or snacks and stuff only AFTER they've left. I've never "hosted" people. I don't know how to interact with people in a way that's about them and considers their possible needs. It took my husband so long to just get me used to being hugged, before him, being hugged made me feel "weak" and I hated it. I never dreamed back then that I would one day crave to be hugged. I'm so craving a hug, not just a simple pat on the back hug though, a real, tight, strong and long hug. A REAL hug.

Uggh, I guess I'm just hurting in every way right now. I'm lonely. I'm missing him. I'm feeling devalued. I've got no one to turn too anymore, I can't just turn to him and say, "I need hugs." and have him open his arms to me without a word.

Love is so contrary to how he died. The two words don't work well together, love and suicide. I don't get it. I just don't understand right now.

 

[Tinyflame]

@Medic72 :hug: :hug: :hug:

You're FAMILY for crying out loud.

That's the thing though, no, not really.

It's not the same & not meant to be the same, but a dog out there (& JMHO but a little older is much easier, if housebroken & not biting out of fear) needs a family. Choose the one your heart tells you to, if you do decide on it. I feel you will know. They are suffering grief too. I think they will choose you, too. You will see. It's not like 'on paper'. :hug:

Xoxoxox (((((( @Medic72 )))))))