Soundgarten frontman killed himself today. He was 52. I want to cry. Hubby was 52. He was ONLY 52. I still can't believe he's gone, it's still not real for me. Does it ever "become real" or do I just move on in some way?
I think about this tragedy today and how many of the people who knew him well are now walking around in that haze, that haze I know all too well where your head just can't wrap around the news. You do the, "I JUST saw him!" and the "He CAN'T be dead." questioning. And then this whole cloud of something settles over you and you think to yourself, "What is dead? What does that even mean? He was JUST here."
It's been 15,1/2 months since my hubby killed himself. I still can't accommodate to that, it's still not real for me . In my mind and in my heart he is still so very alive with me, but he's just not here and my mind seems to be okay just accepting that he's just not around anymore because it can't understand "dead". The most frustrating thing is that my mind keeps thinking he will be back, that we will see each other again, I will touch him again, feel him again and hold him again. It's a heartbreaking thing to have to keep correcting. It's a heartbreaking thing to have to realize over and over and over.
I look at pictures of him and I say to myself, "He was REAL. He was HERE. I touched him. I held him. I loved him. I had a whole life with him." And then naturally, I ask, "How can HE be dead? WHERE is he?"
15, 1/2 months. Why am I still alive, what is my purpose anymore?
Had a scare today and really needed him here with me. I needed my protector to protect me and make me feel better. I had to call 911 because a man hit a woman down the street from me. I could have just ignored it and walked away but I could hear hubby talking about the woman he attended who was stabbed 57 times (died) and how he was proud that his testimony was key in sending her assailant to prison (the guy subsequently threatened my husband's life). I also very clearly remembered the woman I attended who was stabbed 38 times (lived) and how pale she was and how shallow her breathing was and just how she was only a breath away from death covered in her own blood. I imagined this happening to the woman down the street and I was practically running for the phone to get help - in all honesty, it was only because I didn't ever want to see anything like that ever again in my life. I was calling 911 for me, not really for her safety.
I heard the man shout as I ran up my front steps, "Ahhh, you gonna go call the f*ckin' cops!" 911 is so frustrating; Who are you? How do you spell your name? What street are you on? By the time I answered the litany of questions I was shaking and my memory was starting to betray me! I was in a panic, my memory isn't great at the best of times, but toss panic into the mix and I become a bumbling idiot. Couldn't pinpoint which house, couldn't remember what he looked like, couldn't even remember what the second vehicle looked like!! The police showed up pretty quick, but of course, the victim AND assailant had fled the scene by the time they got here. Oh and of course, the police put a big target on my back by pulling up to my house and talking to me - thanks a lot man, I have to live on this street!!
The people were obviously hiding somewhere because not even five minutes after the police left, there they were pulling into their driveway! I finished up my yard work VERY quickly and came inside where I sat paranoid that I was going to be targeted by them. I'm still afraid and it's been hours without any incident or further "noise" from their area of the street.
I needed my husband. I needed him to hold me and tell me I did the right thing. I needed him to help me feel protected and safe - I need him because I still feel vulnerable and unsafe. My sister said that she can come down to be with me this weekend, "I'll show up in uniform after work, send him a message." Ugggh, so not what I need. I saw something, the something ended, obviously the victim doesn't care how she's treated, it's over now. I have to realize that it's over now and no one is angry anymore and everything has de-escalated. It's okay now.
I keep thinking of that story hubby would tell. I heard that story so many times because that guy threatened to kill him once he got out of prison. He was released a few years back, we were warned as a courtesy. Hubby was severely paranoid, started sleeping with knives under the bed, the baseball bat was in a KNOWN place for us, there were crow bars and other knives hidden around the house and we had an "escape plan" in place. He slept close to his phone and made sure our phones were always fully charged. He was scared. He was living afraid for at least two years. He was just beginning to settle down when he started his drastic withdrawing from me.
I remember these things and I think, just exactly how long has there been something "wrong" with him? Like I said, after he died I found I don't know how many copies of the composite sketch of the assailant in a child sexual assault case he handled back when he was in security. That was another story I was VERY well acquainted with. He vowed if he ever found that guy he would kill him and make it look like an accident. It really bothered him.
Hubby saw a lot over his years. So many calls I helped him to get through while trying to swallow back my own calls. Babies. They were the worst. His was a black tag baby. A miscarriage that fit in a kidney basin but started to breathe! Things out of horror movies. Those were the ones that never went away. SIDS. There were times he couldn't stand to look at kids, that's why we went on vacations away from people. We sought solitude. Peace. People just don't get how these things add up and rot you inside. I mean, I panicked today because I could clearly see in my mind, that woman sitting there on her stairwell in a pool of blood. I didn't want it to happen again.
I'm afraid the universe has a target on me. Bad things happen. They happen to me and they used to happen to hubby. He was known as a black cloud at work. If sh*t was going to hit the fan, it was going to do it on his watch....we worked the same watch, just different sectors. I guess I became depressed deep inside of me long ago, or just severely pessimistic because I remember once sitting on the couch and complaining about why life just didn't go right for me, why other people seemed to have things fall into their laps and no matter how hard I worked, nothing ever fell positively toward me. I remember hubby sitting there and saying to me, "Why are you like this!? Why can't you just appreciate what you have? What more do you need to be satisfied?"
I wanted us to be at rest. I wanted us to not be so stressed out and tired all the time. I wanted us to be happy because I wasn't happy inside with how my life was going. I guess he felt I wasn't happy with him - I was, he was the ONLY thing good in my life but I guess I felt he deserved to be happier and I was supposed to do that for him somehow. I felt I was a disappointment to him because I wasn't a "success" in anything. I never saw the good in the job I was doing. I never saw the satisfaction in doing that job well, I just wanted more for us. I think this is what my T called emptiness. I was empty inside. The job did that to me because I was tired all the time and didn't feel I was getting anywhere. I was doing Good for the world. We were.
I know he was tired. He'd been tired for a long time. I know what it's like to feel like there is no end and the only end that seems to be coming at you is not one that you imagined. His heart was going to betray him. It was going to take his job and our life and our happiness and there would be no rest in his future...so he ended his life. The thing is, he didn't know for sure if there was truly anything wrong with his heart. That's the real kicker. That's the thing that makes me angry and shaking my fist at the universe. He was WRONG! He acted impulsively. He didn't stop to think. He didn't even say goodbye.
i miss him like hell every single day. I wish every day for him to just come home.
))) You are right about there not being a set period for mourning. Even if your hubby had died from another cause, you would be missing him. 
