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My husband died today

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So I did a post this morning and my internet was fouling up again, so I'll have to try again tomorrow, it will be out of sequence but I think Trump almost broke the internet today.

I came into my room and looked around today - there is a pile of laundry two feet high and I have to get on with doing the bedding in the spare room. It just never ends.

I've checked off almost all tasks on my schedule but tomorrow will have to be a laundry day.

I also looked around the room and noticed how stale the air was. It smells like sleep and dog in here and then it struck me, I can get an air freshener for the room! Hubby hated all scents, he found almost every air freshener "over powering" and asked that I not use them in the bedroom. He especially hated the smell of cinnamon, so burning scented candles or boiling pot pourri was out too. I can do these things now. I used to buy these scent sprays to put on the furnace air filter and he'd be walking around complaining about how he could smell something really strong - our house was never allowed to smell pretty. Once I bleached the shower and tub, diluted mind you and he came practically stumbling out of the bathroom going on about how he couldn't breathe in there - and it was hours after I'd cleaned it! Yep, there were quirks about him that I always had to work around. He wasn't controlling, he just had these things that I had to acclimatize to.

I can burn scented candles again. I can buy cinnamon ones. It still feels disrespectful in a way though.

It feels cruel to think of things that I can do now without thinking of him. Go away - although I'm finding that tough with the dog now. Use scents. Use bleach and scented laundry soap. Eat whenever I want. Listen to music loud. Walk around naked...okay not that...ever. Change the furniture around. Get rid of extra "junk" that he held onto like computer monitors, old microwaves etc. Stuff. He was a stuff collector.

Maybe one day I'll paint some rooms, like his computer room which is still builder pink. He liked it because it was bright. I'm thinking a sophisticated silver grey. I don't know. That may take years.

He's not coming back. He won't be coming home. He'll never need or use his stuff again. I still can't fathom this. I see his stuff here but I just can't see giving it away even though I know he can't come back for it.

All that he was, the person, the man, his quirks, his likes, his obsessions, that's still all there in his stuff. I'm not ready.

9 months. I still can't begin to let go of him. I ask myself every night, "How is he dead?" I look at the bed and I pray to wake up to everything normal again.

I needed him.
 
This is the post I was supposed to post yesterday morning.

I awoke this morning to my husband's worse nightmare - Donald Trump is the President-elect of the United States. That being said, husband also predicted a bone-head move made out of hubris and a swift impeachment. I had said that his staff nor the senate will allow him to seriously screw up the country, so if an angry voter doesn't assassinate him, his aides will essentially take over direction of their country. Who knows, he could be an actual person and do the job he's supposed to do - he's good at jobs ("business"). Of course, he's also a bully, so I pity anyone who has to negotiate anything with the US.

I had a wicked nightmare last night. There was a burning woman standing beside my bed and she was screaming and screaming. Her face was melting, her hair was thick, matted and curled. I could smell it starting to burn. Her clothes were all on fire. I tried to move to help her but I was frozen in place. I started trying to scream for help but nothing would come out so I tried harder and harder to scream. The sound of my own voice woke me up but it woke me up into another nightmare. I sat up, looked toward the dark corner by the bedroom door and there was a face looking at me with thick curly matted hair. I definitely sat up then and said, "Ahhhhh!" into my dark room. I hate those types of dreams! I was terrified to go to bed after that, just so completely afraid of the dark that I had to turn the tv on just to have some light in the room. I really could have used my hubby last night.

Interesting to note that since the dog has left my room, I'm having nightmares again.

Uggh. I was just thinking about things around the house that I always relied on hubby for - plumbing issues, changing out the electrical things like light fixtures and smoke alarms, troubleshooting the furnace and just knowing those "man things". I know a lot but those were the things that were strictly his. I'm thinking of things like the Christmas tree - do I even decorate this year? It was always so tiring because he never helped me, the most he ever did was help to carry the tree in it's box up from the basement. But then I think of things like the meaning of that tree - it was OURS and his Christmas stocking, it's older than I am, his grandma knitted it for him when he was just a little boy. These things MEAN something and this year especially it seems important to honor him by doing these things. Maybe I'll be one of those people who decorate at the end of November. My sister wants me to get a smaller pre-lit tree to make it easier on me but that seems wrong to me. Hubby and I were about honor and tradition and respect - it just feels improper for me to replace the tree that he and I've had since our first apartment together. That tree is 19 years old!

Oh and there's the issue of outside lights for Christmas. I'm the one who's been putting those up for years now. Hubby always used to say his favorite time of year was Christmas so I would go all out for Christmas to try to make it special - years later he told me that he just liked the "feel" of the season not the decorating and gift giving and stuff. Sigh. He had this way of getting out of doing the work with me. I'm conflicted about Christmas because there are things I can do now that he disapproved of before - he hated the scent of cinnamon, so those pretty smelling Christmas decorations were banned in our house, well, he can't smell anything anymore, so is that one of the changes I'm going to make this year? Lights. He didn't like going overboard on lights but I want to be able to make our house look pretty, so I may actually place some lights in our backyard, a feature of some kind just so that I can see it, maybe even add a little more seasonal lighting to the inside of the house itself.

It feels wrong but there are things I can do around the house that he never used to like me doing. I don't have to ask his opinion about things now....that's pretty sad really...I no longer have to consider his feelings about things anymore. :(

I heard word from our lawyer about our (my) case the other day. It may be another year or so that this drags out. Hubby was hoping all was going to be finally settled by March of this year and we could put all of that crap behind us to focus on my getting better - we were realizing when we hadn't heard word by mid-January that nothing was actually going to be settled. It was more stress on him. He won't see the end of that fight. The first "offer" of settlement is just going in now. It will then be up to the lawyers to haggle on that number, the lawyer said don't expect them to just pull out their check books and pay what we're asking. Mind you, I wouldn't be unhappy if they did just that, they can honestly afford this number without even a mark to their bottom line but no one pays what anyone asks, they will likely extremely low ball the number and we will get tied up negotiations for years. I just want all of that over with. Husband just wanted all of that over so we could try to get me better and move on with our lives. We needed that stress to get out of our lives and stop complicating things. It's part of what killed him.

I'm not over exaggerating that. Everyone knows what happens to PTSD when it is left untreated. I am not a nice person to live with or deal with anymore. I wanted to die so many times and he had to deal with that. On top of everything else he had to deal with! I keep thinking that once this whole issue settles I'm going to "leave the world". Not die, just leave them and have them leave me alone. I want to go where no one can touch me and I can live in peace - quiet town, no sidewalks, close enough to a town and hospital that I don't have to worry, maybe get involved in community stuff. Uggh, retired stuff. Bake sales, craft shows, residency groups; stuff like that. I want small town again. I want to walk down a street and only occasionally encounter a vehicle. I want to sit out in my backyard and hear birds not traffic. This is what we both wanted.

If he's pure energy, can he come with me or is he tied to THIS house?
 
Thanks for that @scout86, I still have yet to "experience" him outside of the house, but I haven't stopped looking for him. My hubby loved his couch, my cousin always called him "house cat" so I hope he will come with me if I ever decide to leave.

Had a phone counselling appointment today. I started crying at one point and my therapist says, "Are you triggering or are you just crying?" I couldn't answer because I was crying and trying not too, so she says, "Ohhh, this is why I hate phone stuff, I can't see your face." :(

I was crying because of something I had said. We were talking about the severance money my husband is supposed to be getting from his work, she was all happy about it because it means more money and financial security for me but I cried because I remembered how angry he was that the union was going to try to bargain that away until the employees it affected spoke up and demanded a payout. He'd been looking forward to that money. He thought he was going to get it in the spring. I told her that he was planning to buy a new car with it...and that was when I burst into tears.

My therapist then said, "Wow, that is so sad. He was planning for his future, he was looking forward. It must make his suicide that much harder to comprehend." Ummmm, YES! YES! YES!! This is what I've been screaming since day 1. He HAD PLANS FOR OUR FUTURE. HE WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THINGS! And then, he shoots himself!? It's like I was living in an upside down world. None of it made sense to me. Over a potential heart condition? So quickly? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!?

Everything I've been grasping at since his death. Everything I'm looking back on and interpreting as "signs". All of it. None of it can ever be validated. All of it is just me speculating, interpreting, assuming. I'm trying to find logic in something that is purely illogical. I'm trying to find some way to make the pain easier.

I said to him once that the aftermath of suicide is not about the dead, it's about the pain the survivor feels. If a person thinks their death will change things, it doesn't usually; it doesn't make life easier for those of us left behind, we don't forget about you, in fact we now obsess over you. We don't just go on, the very fabric of time tears at the moment of your death and thus time makes no sense afterward, everything is measured in "since you died" and because of that, we NEVER forget. We carry the pain that lingers from you for the rest of our lives. We focus the blame on ourselves and we hold onto that blame for years, decades even. It hurts like nothing you could ever imagine, that's why many of us want to die too.

He decided to die. It wasn't about me. He didn't consider me. He didn't voice it at all. He didn't have to die. Nothing he was facing was that bad. We could have survived. Instead, I now have to survive. I hate being a "survivor".

There are women who were divorced or separated from their husbands when they killed themselves and they still go through this pain. There were women who were victims of their husbands before he committed suicide and they still go through this pain. It's not a "saying", it's the truth, suicide only passes your pain to someone else. It's like a baton of energy and we have to take it whether we want it or not. We will either run with it, or hand it off to someone else in the same manner.

On the fb group the other day someone wrote a goodbye letter to us. I've said some things in posts that could be interpreted as suicidal because of the depression speaking through me, the pain inside looking for an outlet, the hopelessness that now overwhelms me but I've never once said goodbye to people. That's not allowed. There are rules and the administrators have a certain amount of responsibility to maintain the safety of the group. This person raged on and on the next day after the police showed up at her door for a well-being check - duh! You cannot threaten suicide and not expect someone to act. She felt violated - well, what about the rest of us? When you threaten publicly in a forum of your supporters who are all in the same boat as you, you threaten our sense of safety. You violate OUR sense of trust. Worse yet, you incite a panic that most of us thought we'd never have to experience again in our lives.

If you feel suicidal, please call a help line. If you feel you want to die and you publicly cry out for help, don't get angry when help arrives...you are crying out for HELP after all. No one really wants to die, they just want to feel better. Suicidal is a feeling and like all other feelings it will come and go. My aunt is in her 60s and it's been almost a year since her last attempt, this is a huge accomplishment for a woman who has been repeatedly attempting for 20 years. She is now being treated for trauma, she now knows how to fight against her feelings. She asked for help. She continues to ask for help. She is no longer ashamed of her pain, instead she speaks about it.

I have a pain that I can't even describe. I inherited it the day he died. It is a well so deep it feels bottomless. It is like nothing I've ever experienced in my life and even though there were days I'd wanted to die from an internal pain before his death, this pain seems to overshadow anything I've ever been through before; makes the things I wanted to die over before seem insignificant now. I'm afraid to die now. I saw how quickly it took the love of my life. I am terrified of death even though it still feels like it's there just over my shoulder, giggling at me now.

Huh. "It makes the things I wanted to die over before seem insignificant now." I just answered a question. How could he die over something so insignificant? Something so trivial and so seemingly small? Because at the time he was feeling it, it wasn't. Just like all of those other times I wanted to die, that one thing was the ONLY thing in the whole world and I just wanted to be done with it. I didn't want to deal with it anymore. Most of the time I was tired of fighting, the PTSD, my employer, workers comp. I was just tired and I needed a reprieve. I wanted silence, peace, an end to my trials. A heart problem would have seriously hindered our life...he didn't want a ticking time bomb in his chest. It was too much.

But it wasn't real. He didn't have any evidence for his thoughts. He had no confirmation of a heart problem just the word of an inexperienced physiotherapist. It wasn't real. He believed a thinking error. He let a thinking error kill him.

I shouldn't be sitting here missing him. I shouldn't have too. :(

PS.
I don't think this posting issue is a function of my connection, I'm connected to the internet, able to use my ipod without an issue right now and surf pages in other tabs but every time I hit Reply To Thread, the loading signal starts and then just ends with nothing happening. Super frustrating.
 
I took the dog for a long hour and a half hike today in the park where my husband and I used to go all the time.

I talked to him (my husband) as we hiked. I pointed out areas to the dog on the hike where husband and I had either done something or come across something.

I apologized to my husband for not getting to him sooner. It was on my mind because I'd read a post a woman wrote to her husband asking his forgiveness for being angry at him and not going straight home when he called her to threaten suicide (apparently he'd done this a lot), instead she drove by the house to cool off and came back after 10 minutes. It was too late by the time she'd gotten there.

I'm not saying I could have helped him or prevented what happened, he was already dead when I woke up but something kept me driving north past his car that day. Had I turned to investigate the "drunk driver the cops pulled over", which is what I thought at the time, I would have come on the unsecured scene of his death - I would have seen him because there was only a lone police car on scene at that time. I thought it was a drunk driver pulled over on the side street.

I was angry at him but he didn't know that. I was angry because he left the house without telling me where he was and he wasn't answering my texts. I was angry because he left without a word and that is what his dad used to do to them when he was little and he made me promise I'd never do that to HIM, yet here he was doing it to me. I assumed he was angry at me for some reason why he wouldn't answer my texts so I got angry. I packed my bag, rinsed off in the shower, tossed on clothes and a baseball cap and left the house screaming, "Fine! See how you like it when you come home and I've disappeared without a word!" I was going to go to my sisters place.

Anger was driving me at full speed away from the house...but anger only lasts so long. About 15 minutes from our house I felt guilt. He was struggling to deal with his potential heart issue and here I was being stupid and getting angry and trying to put the fear of God in him because he was doing it to me. I tried to think of where he could be. I thought about whether I should just turn around and go back home. Instead I kept driving. I said to myself, "I'll go to the park and cool off....I wonder....if he was angry would he go there to do the same thing? I'll go check the park, maybe he just went there."

So I drove the half hour out to the park. I drove further and further away from him still wondering where he would have gone and why, and why wouldn't he answer me? I got us food from McD's drive thru, texted him again, drove around the park checking the parking lots and didn't see his car. By then I was getting exhausted. I felt defeated. I felt guilty for leaving the house - now I didn't want him coming home, not finding ME and getting angry with me, he was upset enough. I decided to go home and wait for him to come back.

It was as I turned into the roundabout to head home that I "searched my gut" trying to sense him and that shadow of a feeling said he was dead. I immediately told my mind to shut up, that was impossible, he couldn't die, I was being ridiculous. I was coming to the second roundabout when I decided I was going to go check our local park before going home; I'd go the "back way", the way I'd showed him just the other day when we went there to have lunch.

I came around the roundabout and there were many police vehicles in the area of that street where I'd seen the "pulled over car" I'd passed earlier. I slowed down. It was the street I needed to go down to get to the park. I saw the car there on the shoulder. It was his car.

Wow, huge tangent sorry. My original thought - I was hiking and telling husband I was sorry I didn't go straight to him. Instead I stupidly drove by because I was angry at him, he didn't know I was angry at him. I didn't know he was right there. By the time I got there they wouldn't let me near him. I was sorry I couldn't get to him, I tried. I told him that I wanted to go to him and I tried but they wouldn't let me near and I was sorry, I was so sorry that I didn't get to touch him and cry on him and scream to tell people to leave him alone and get their hands off of him. I told him he was mine. I should have gone to him but I couldn't, I didn't think it was him when I first went by, the cops wouldn't let me near him when I got there. I said to the silent forest as I hiked today, "Tin, I tried to get to you. I tried. I'm sorry."

Who is to say what is best? Some of us don't want to see "that" and some of us need to see "that" to slap us with a finality. I saw him alive looking in a casket. He wasn't "dead looking" in terms of what my medic mind knows that dead should look like. I needed to see him dead.

Do you know there are things I think about like, how he hated being seen naked - he used to sleep naked when I met him but after we started sleeping together he started getting "naked issues"; he'd run from the bed to the bathroom or cover himself even though it was only me. I think about how, at the coroners office, they had to strip him and see him naked, see his "pee-pee" and how he would have hated that so much.

I think about how he was stored in a refrigerated drawer and he was always so cold, he would have hated that. 4 days they kept him in there, alone!

How come I didn't get to go to him? How come I couldn't protect him from those things they were doing to him? Why wasn't I given the option?

I'm sorry I couldn't protect him.

I'm sorry I couldn't save him from himself.

I would give anything to have him home with me again.
 
I'm missing him a lot today. I just want him to come home, just please come home and tell me it was all a ruse. Tell me his life was in danger and they needed to protect him. Just tell me that he's still alive and he's safe and I don't have to worry about anything again.

I drove by the street where he killed himself today. They changed it. It was a connector street between two other streets, a T intersection, 3 way stop. It's not a 3 way stop anymore. The stop sign his car was in front of is gone, they've added a turning lane there. I'm kind of upset. It made me realize that the exact spot he was in that morning when he died, they paved over it. They paved OVER it! I can visit the "area" where he died, but I can't visit the spot anymore, it's an active traffic lane now. :(

I went back once. On my way home the first time since that day when my family scooped me and took me away. On my way home I stopped and bought a dozen roses. I placed one there in the mud on the exact spot where his car had sat that morning. I was still in shock and numb. I couldn't cry. I couldn't mourn. I was just numb, not feeling anything but confused and feeling like I had to do something, just something to memorialize him, to mark that spot where he died.

I've always heard my family say, "I don't know why people go to the spot where someone dies, they're not there, they're not here anymore, they're not anywhere." My mom. My brothers. My dad. My sister. They all said that at some point. Hell, I even said it because it was something that my Mom believed, so I had to believe it too. My mom always used to say, "I don't want anyone crying over my grave or bringing me flowers year after year, I won't be there, I'll be in heaven." I thought of that every single time I went home and made that short walk across the yard to the cemetery to visit her grave. I always had this feeling like I was doing something "wrong" going to "visit her". When my brother died, my mom went up to the spot once but she never went back. She didn't make it a pilgrimage, she didn't place flowers or put a cross there, she just went, looked around and then came home. I thought of him every single time I passed by that spot, eventually, I started to forget that it was where he died. Now I pass that spot without a second thought - my brother died there 30 years ago this past September.

When my husband died, my greatest fear was that he was still there, in that spot, maybe his essence was in his blood, maybe some leaked into the earth there...just the wild thoughts that go through your head trying to make sense of that thing called death. This whole thing about his blood leaking into the ground there - I don't know where that came from, just something my mind thought up. I don't know how much he bled. I don't know where his blood was other than soaked into his seat like my brother said. If any of what I was thinking is true, then his "essence" was with the car when they took it, with him still inside away on a flatbed truck.

But then my brother had gone to do his ceremony there and then told my other brother that he thought he screwed something up because he "saw him following me when I was on my walk this morning. He must have attached himself to me when I put down the offering and followed me home." I almost lost it when i heard this. God, the things my family just didn't think about before they spoke to me!! THAT is why I wonder where he is, what became of "him", his spirit, his essence, his love, his smile, his energy. MY husband. He should have been here with me. He should not have gotten lost. He should have felt my love and followed me. I was the center of his universe and he was the center of mine - I don't know why my brother felt he had to perform some ceremony for the dead when my husband was Scots, not Ojibway!

My Mom taught me to believe that we leave this earth, we don't stay attached to things here, we go off to heaven to wait for our loved ones. I lost my husband suddenly and tragically. I lost him away from our house and he was alone. I couldn't feel him leave me. I still cannot feel him or sense him. I am still numb in some ways to what happened. I find it hard to believe that he's not still out there, wandering, lost and trying to find a way to get back to me, to our home. He was not himself when he died. His mind wasn't in the right place. He was lost in his last moments. Is he still lost now?

I search for him when I'm out. I search for him in the places we used to go. I search for him in the woods near where he died. I search for him because when something like this happens, something so out of the natural course of things, everything you thought you knew or believed goes up in smoke; it evaporates into thin air because you're slammed with the one thing you never thought you'd ever have to face. Your reality gets shattered. Your sense of control, your sense of hope, your sense of anything making any sense anymore in this life just gets shattered into oblivion. You are slammed with the reality that you really knew nothing; you know nothing at all about what death really means.

is he still there? I don't know. My mother didn't know, so all that is left is "maybe" and you try to cross all the i's and dot all the t's and hope somehow you're doing the right thing by him.

I want him home with me. I want him back. I want to never be afraid and alone again. I want to find him. I need to find him. I can't accept that he no longer exists in some form. I still need him.
 
I cried a few times today.

This morning the dog got me up at 6am but as soon as he toilets and eats he goes straight back to bed, leaving me to sit up half awake but unable to go back to sleep.

I was sitting curled up on the couch watching television when the phone started beeping on the charger. Beep. Pause. Beep. Pause. Beep. I was dumbfounded. I stared at it, the dog groaned and it started again. Beep. Pause. Beep. Pause. Beep.

I said aloud, "Tinny, is that you?" Does the damn thing not start going Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep! I smiled at first and then said, "Morning Tin, we miss you. I miss you. How come I can't see you? How come I can't hug you? I need hugs, Tin, I need em real bad..."

No more beeps. I burst into tears and said, "Why did you leave me here alone!? I miss you so much, Tinny. I just miss you so much."

I cried again after our lawyer called today. I was talking important things with him, that serious professional stuff that leaves me panicked and shaking and furiously taking notes because I won't remember a damn thing when I hang up. He was human today, after business he asked how I was doing. It made me think about my husband and how I used to have to go over the phone calls with him so he could remember what was said. I hung up, walked into the living room and promptly collapsed to the floor unable to catch my breath. I scared the poor dog who sat looking at me sideways with his head down. When I could finally breathe I started bawling and asking my husband why he left me, couldn't he see how much I still needed him!?

"I need you. I need you. I need you." I sobbed over and over. "I-I-I can't do this alone, Tin!! I can't do this without you!"

I finally pulled myself off the floor after 10 minutes and prepared the dog for a walk.

I cried again during dinner. I was in the middle of chewing, the dog was sitting there staring at me and suddenly I just burst into tears. "I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Please hug me. I need you home with us! I need to feel you hug me! I need you!!"

Uggh. Having a very emotional day today.
 
I don't know why people go to the spot where someone dies,
I suppose it's different for different people. I have a couple people where I visit their graves once or twice a year, if I can. I leave a rose. I sit down and talk to them for awhile, about what ever comes to mind. Honestly, these are people I 'talk' to, in my head, all the time. I'm not sure why I visit their graves. I know they aren't there. I don't think the essence of person is confined to their body. I think there is a soul, or spirit, or something that's 'us' and it isn't physical. It's some kind of energy. So, the way I see it, these people might be 'around' anywhere, any time. Or not. But, somehow, visiting the grave of a few special people means something to me. I can understand how you feel about that parking spot now being a traffic lane!
 
I have my sons and my husbands ashes in my bedroom but they are not there anymore. I am still searching for a resting place for them to be able to go and visit them in a place that is beautiful.

I am so sorry that the pain is too much for you right now. I am sorry they paved over the site of his death.

I have no more words only know that my heart is with yours right now.:hug:
 
I just had a whirlwind specialists appointment for my diabetes, went to get some groceries, come home to find the lawyer needs me to get a few things done (like yesterday), and I am completely drained of energy right now. The dog still needs a walk and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for a few days.

I'm done. I've hit a wall here. I heard today that I "can improve so many things and greatly effect my quality of life." Uggh. Same speech, different mouths. Physically I am in great health other than being overweight...the BMI says I should weigh 120lbs and I repeatedly say that I haven't weighed that since I was 15. I just dropped 18 lbs over this past year and it's really discouraging when someone looks at you and says, "not enough". Well, guess what? I wasn't trying to lose that weight, I just wasn't eating right. Should I just keep doing what I'm doing because it's not what they're telling me I should be doing.

I have PTSD and my husband killed himself. I struggle from day to day just to remember to do the dog routine and look after the house while trying to look after me. It's really tough for me but people who've never been there look at you and frown and call that "an excuse" and when it comes to your health there are no acceptable excuses. I just did a two hour marathon session of diabetes education, my brain is overloaded, my body is sapped and I want to curl up and die - THAT is how I'm coping right now. That simple appointment has just left my "daily function" tank empty.

The other things I was supposed to do today? I can't do them. I just can't face them right now. Husband was always good at "handling" me when i'd get overwhelmed, he'd give me permission to chill out by explaining to me how putting things aside for now would not seriously affect the outcome. I need to hear that. I need to hear that the world won't end if I don't make the calls the lawyer needs me to make today or fax the paperwork he wanted. I need to learn to give myself permission to do that. I'd love it if the dog didn't notice that I haven't taken him for a proper walk today but he will.

If I move, I want to go out in the woods for hours. I want to leave all the pressing matters behind me and pretend they don't exist. I want to disappear off the face of the earth - temporarily until I feel stronger again.

I'm tired and I need hubby to tell me it's okay, that he's got things under control while I rest. I need him to make it all better.
 
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