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My husband died today
- Post starter NarcSis
- Start date
- Status
AngelKeeperJ
Sponsor
((( :hug: Medic72 :hug: )))
Sending my thoughts and prayers! I know that it's MORE than hard to keep going some days, but you CAN and WILL get through these days. It's good that you have your dog! They know how to love unconditionally.
I think that if you had been the one to leave, your hubby would have been SO lost without you!
One day at a time... and you ARE very valuable!!! You are still here for a reason, even if you don't know what that is yet.
Blessings sent for you to have a better day tomorrow!
Sending my thoughts and prayers! I know that it's MORE than hard to keep going some days, but you CAN and WILL get through these days. It's good that you have your dog! They know how to love unconditionally.
I think that if you had been the one to leave, your hubby would have been SO lost without you!
One day at a time... and you ARE very valuable!!! You are still here for a reason, even if you don't know what that is yet.
Blessings sent for you to have a better day tomorrow!
- Post starter
- #1,239
I need my hubby! I can't sleep. I just got home from a week at my brothers house yesterday and had a major melt down on my dog. Totally my fault for not realizing that our home routine might change after spending a week in a completely different environment.
Usually when we arrive home from anywhere, I can open the car door and he will jump out and proceed (unleashed) directly to the front door to wait for me. I can be carrying groceries or whatever and he does our routine - runs up the stairs to the front door with me saying, "Up the stairs." So stupidly today I decided to grab our bags before letting him out of the car (as would be our usual routine). He jumped out, I said, "Up the stairs", he headed toward the stairs but changed his mind at the bottom, hesitated, looked at the kids running around in the street and turned toward them. I'm loaded down with three heavy gym bags around my neck and the dog decides not to behave according to routine. I place my body between him and the street and say, "No. Up the stairs." He goes up the stairs but not enthusiastically. I move between him and the door to unlock it and does he not turn, run down the stairs and head toward the street!!
I panicked. I LOST IT! I dropped everything (loudly) that I was carrying, which in retrospect probably frightened him more than my screaming, "STOP!" He ran around my car and out of sight so I ran after him; remember, he has no leash on, just a harness. (My fault, again.) With all of the neighborhood children now watching me, I am screaming "STOP!" at the top of my lungs and running down my driveway and then, because I'm panicked and trying to regain control I scream, "Goddamn you dog!!"
I caught him on the other side of my car but had to drag him because now he's terrified because I'm yelling at him! I drag him to the car for his leash, he's fighting me, he's trying to get in the car and I'm trying to hold him, so he keeps falling out, I finally get the leash on him and he refuses to move! The absolute second he feels slack he tries to run toward the street again so I tighten the leash, still raving mad and spewing profanity - I mean losing my SH*T on this dog - I finally recognize that I'm triggered and so is he; we're both in panic mode! I turn to him, see him cower and I kneel down, say "Momma pick you up" and I pick him up and carry him into the house. Poor guy was just shaking but I HAD TO take control, we were both "gone", lost in our own panic. He was afraid of me for a few hours after that.
I think back on it and I was already triggered to some extent when I got home. It was a long and tiring drive, I was hot and exhausted. When I got out of the car, one of the neighbor kids kept saying in a taunting voice, "Get off my lawn!" and "Don't play on my lawn!" which I assumed was directed at me. I'd run over a rotten orange someone had thrown in my driveway - likely the same bad kids. AND just before I let the dog out of the car, I noticed rotting pieces of orange scattered over my front lawn but I opened the door anyway not thinking anything of it!
I was annoyed and triggered to anger by the time I opened the door to let the dog out, no wonder he didn't listen to me.
I can't sleep because I'm now wondering if that was mould on the orange pieces on the lawn or some kind of poison. The dog seems to be sleeping fine and I know he didn't have time to ingest anything before mommy lost it on him but I saw the one kid from next door quickly running across my lawn bent over AFTER I came inside...maybe gathering up the "offering". Uggh, suspicious mind!!
I need hubby to make me feel better. I'm supposed to be happy to be home, not lying here wondering why people have no respect for me. I know they're just kids but it still hurts when they make fun of me. I was so angry when I came in the house with the dog I felt like I could fly into a murderous rage. I just put my hands to my head and tried to shut out all the banging and screaming noises from those kids. I wanted to fall down and just start bawling my eyes out. I'd just spent a week in the country at my brothers place where my only complaint the first morning was about how loud the birds are at 5am!
Now I'm back here, where kids think it's okay to make fun of you and disrespect you by running and playing soccer on your lawn...but this is where hubby and I lived together, in love; this is OUR home. This is where I feel him. This is where I'm happy to get home too, my safe place and yet I'm sad too because it's empty and hollow when I come in the door now.
I keep expecting him home. I don't know why for some reason my head thought today was going to be the day. THE DAY, where he'd suddenly walk back through that door and be home to end my nightmare. Even going to bed I thought I heard noises downstairs and I was so unbelievably happy in my heart because I was anticipating him. I even just thought to myself, "Did he even die or did I imagine all of that?"
He's still alive here. Not physically but in this house, he is very much alive and still with me. How can I ever leave that?
I can't sleep. I need him. I need his arm to snuggle under.
Usually when we arrive home from anywhere, I can open the car door and he will jump out and proceed (unleashed) directly to the front door to wait for me. I can be carrying groceries or whatever and he does our routine - runs up the stairs to the front door with me saying, "Up the stairs." So stupidly today I decided to grab our bags before letting him out of the car (as would be our usual routine). He jumped out, I said, "Up the stairs", he headed toward the stairs but changed his mind at the bottom, hesitated, looked at the kids running around in the street and turned toward them. I'm loaded down with three heavy gym bags around my neck and the dog decides not to behave according to routine. I place my body between him and the street and say, "No. Up the stairs." He goes up the stairs but not enthusiastically. I move between him and the door to unlock it and does he not turn, run down the stairs and head toward the street!!
I panicked. I LOST IT! I dropped everything (loudly) that I was carrying, which in retrospect probably frightened him more than my screaming, "STOP!" He ran around my car and out of sight so I ran after him; remember, he has no leash on, just a harness. (My fault, again.) With all of the neighborhood children now watching me, I am screaming "STOP!" at the top of my lungs and running down my driveway and then, because I'm panicked and trying to regain control I scream, "Goddamn you dog!!"
I caught him on the other side of my car but had to drag him because now he's terrified because I'm yelling at him! I drag him to the car for his leash, he's fighting me, he's trying to get in the car and I'm trying to hold him, so he keeps falling out, I finally get the leash on him and he refuses to move! The absolute second he feels slack he tries to run toward the street again so I tighten the leash, still raving mad and spewing profanity - I mean losing my SH*T on this dog - I finally recognize that I'm triggered and so is he; we're both in panic mode! I turn to him, see him cower and I kneel down, say "Momma pick you up" and I pick him up and carry him into the house. Poor guy was just shaking but I HAD TO take control, we were both "gone", lost in our own panic. He was afraid of me for a few hours after that.
I think back on it and I was already triggered to some extent when I got home. It was a long and tiring drive, I was hot and exhausted. When I got out of the car, one of the neighbor kids kept saying in a taunting voice, "Get off my lawn!" and "Don't play on my lawn!" which I assumed was directed at me. I'd run over a rotten orange someone had thrown in my driveway - likely the same bad kids. AND just before I let the dog out of the car, I noticed rotting pieces of orange scattered over my front lawn but I opened the door anyway not thinking anything of it!
I was annoyed and triggered to anger by the time I opened the door to let the dog out, no wonder he didn't listen to me.
I can't sleep because I'm now wondering if that was mould on the orange pieces on the lawn or some kind of poison. The dog seems to be sleeping fine and I know he didn't have time to ingest anything before mommy lost it on him but I saw the one kid from next door quickly running across my lawn bent over AFTER I came inside...maybe gathering up the "offering". Uggh, suspicious mind!!
I need hubby to make me feel better. I'm supposed to be happy to be home, not lying here wondering why people have no respect for me. I know they're just kids but it still hurts when they make fun of me. I was so angry when I came in the house with the dog I felt like I could fly into a murderous rage. I just put my hands to my head and tried to shut out all the banging and screaming noises from those kids. I wanted to fall down and just start bawling my eyes out. I'd just spent a week in the country at my brothers place where my only complaint the first morning was about how loud the birds are at 5am!
Now I'm back here, where kids think it's okay to make fun of you and disrespect you by running and playing soccer on your lawn...but this is where hubby and I lived together, in love; this is OUR home. This is where I feel him. This is where I'm happy to get home too, my safe place and yet I'm sad too because it's empty and hollow when I come in the door now.
I keep expecting him home. I don't know why for some reason my head thought today was going to be the day. THE DAY, where he'd suddenly walk back through that door and be home to end my nightmare. Even going to bed I thought I heard noises downstairs and I was so unbelievably happy in my heart because I was anticipating him. I even just thought to myself, "Did he even die or did I imagine all of that?"
He's still alive here. Not physically but in this house, he is very much alive and still with me. How can I ever leave that?
I can't sleep. I need him. I need his arm to snuggle under.
- Post starter
- #1,240
The dog is mad at me right now, it sounds ridiculous and every dog owner says they don't hold grudges but this one does, likely because I'm still angry and he can probably sense it. He pee'd on the rug upstairs. I LOST IT and spanked him. That was two hours ago. I don't understand why he's doing this, it's the second time he's done this and both offenses coincide with our coming back from my brother's house. I've been watching him for the past two days, caught him about to do it last night, said NO and sent him outside but today, I saw him go up the stairs and didn't think anything of it until about a minute later I realized what he could be up too. Ugggh!! I was ENRAGED. He didn't give any indication to me that he needed to go out. This has to be my fault in some way but I don't see it.
I can't let it go. I don't understand. and that makes me think about husband's death - I just do not understand.
He killed himself. That wasn't like him. That wasn't how he tackled his problems. That was never how he coped with things. He just gave up. He just gave in. He didn't even try to fight for himself. How could he do that? To us? To himself? To me? How?
I still don't get it. There was nothing wrong in our life except the stupid lawsuit. How could it happen so fast with no warning? How could one little trigger take away his whole sense of reason; destroy the level headed person he was? How can people insist to me that there HAD TO be warning signs? How could I have let him down so badly? What did I do wrong? What could I have done different? Could I have saved him?
People always say things like, one word, one action or one phrase and their lives were saved from the brink - why couldn't I have come up with any of those things when he needed me too? I think back on that day when he was in crisis and I failed him so badly. I failed him. I kept my mouth shut because when I'm afraid I react with anger and I knew he didn't need more anger from me. He knew I reacted angrily when I was afraid or if he was sick. I told him that this is how I was taught to cope when I was a kid, my mom got angry at us when we were hurt or sick because she HAD TO function through it somehow and anger must have gotten her through it. When someone was sick, I got angry, especially him because his being ill made me afraid. I never wanted to lose him. I never wanted to be alone. I never wanted to lose him.
I lost him. I lost him because of how I am; because of how I cope. I was never good for him. I was a burden on him. I was always going to need his looking after. I was always going to be dependent upon him and that was too much for him to cope with.
I spanked my dog. I damaged his trust of me. I lashed out in anger and I snapped my hand on his butt. I used to do this to my husband. Not hit him; I used to yell at him in frustration - half of the time not even directed at him, just to the world. I used to huff and sigh and yell about how unfair life was, how stupid I was, how dumb I now was because I couldn't remember things. misplaced things all the time. I used to turn to him and say, "Why am I so stupid!? How can I be this dumb!? I don't understand!!!"
I still get that way. I know it's the PTSD but that always sounds like an excuse. How do I stop my brain from overreacting to tiny little things? I just want it to stop. I want to be the me I was before. I want the brain I had before. I want to be able to think and feel in control again. I want to bring him back to me. I want our life back, the one where we were happy and able to travel and go on day trips and camping and smile and laugh together.
I killed him. I was drowning myself and I pulled him down with me. I couldn't keep him afloat. I couldn't save him when I didn't even know how to save me. I'm still just treading water here.
I read a post about a woman now going through the same deal I'm going through with her late husband's employer - her husband has been dead from suicide for two years. Last year they finally accepted that he died from PTSD and granted her a worker's comp benefit her only source of income), now they've decided to appeal that decision. Welcome to the hell we lived in. These Class 2 employers who administer their own benefits think they can get away with this all the time, they know it will place the case in queue and because of the appeals backlog, it will sit there for years, possibly decades and they won't have to pay out anything, in the meantime, the claimant either dies or gives up. I'm not giving up. Husband would not have wanted me to give up. If I don't make this fight and I die in the meantime, I'm leaving instructions to my lawyer to continue for the sake of my estate.
They should not get away with treating us this way. I'm a human being. If I could rain down hell on each of the ones keeping me locked in this torturous limbo, I would. My employer is ignoring the advice of their own lawyer. He is advising them to settle, they are not entertaining the idea. I think that is ridiculous since they were trying so hard to push a pay off settlement and gag order down my throat BEFORE they fired me. They were keen on paying me to Go Away three years ago, so I don't understand what changed. The consequences of going to tribunal are not in their favor, the deliberate misinterpretation of the psychiatrist's reports alone is enough to bury them in a repayment scenario that is far more than what we were asking for, let alone the precedent it will set for every single case that comes after mine. These people stole my life and they took the life of my husband. No amount will ever be enough.
I miss my hubby. I miss him and I want him back home with me. It gets so bad sometimes. I just need so badly to feel his arms around me. He was real. He was here. He was mine. They took him from me. People need to stop telling me to let it go, forgive them, and not to be angry - I can't. As long as I'm stuck in this limbo, I can't. I can't move forward. I can't go back. I can't be me again. I can't bring him home again. I'm not me without him.
I can't let it go. I don't understand. and that makes me think about husband's death - I just do not understand.
He killed himself. That wasn't like him. That wasn't how he tackled his problems. That was never how he coped with things. He just gave up. He just gave in. He didn't even try to fight for himself. How could he do that? To us? To himself? To me? How?
I still don't get it. There was nothing wrong in our life except the stupid lawsuit. How could it happen so fast with no warning? How could one little trigger take away his whole sense of reason; destroy the level headed person he was? How can people insist to me that there HAD TO be warning signs? How could I have let him down so badly? What did I do wrong? What could I have done different? Could I have saved him?
People always say things like, one word, one action or one phrase and their lives were saved from the brink - why couldn't I have come up with any of those things when he needed me too? I think back on that day when he was in crisis and I failed him so badly. I failed him. I kept my mouth shut because when I'm afraid I react with anger and I knew he didn't need more anger from me. He knew I reacted angrily when I was afraid or if he was sick. I told him that this is how I was taught to cope when I was a kid, my mom got angry at us when we were hurt or sick because she HAD TO function through it somehow and anger must have gotten her through it. When someone was sick, I got angry, especially him because his being ill made me afraid. I never wanted to lose him. I never wanted to be alone. I never wanted to lose him.
I lost him. I lost him because of how I am; because of how I cope. I was never good for him. I was a burden on him. I was always going to need his looking after. I was always going to be dependent upon him and that was too much for him to cope with.
I spanked my dog. I damaged his trust of me. I lashed out in anger and I snapped my hand on his butt. I used to do this to my husband. Not hit him; I used to yell at him in frustration - half of the time not even directed at him, just to the world. I used to huff and sigh and yell about how unfair life was, how stupid I was, how dumb I now was because I couldn't remember things. misplaced things all the time. I used to turn to him and say, "Why am I so stupid!? How can I be this dumb!? I don't understand!!!"
I still get that way. I know it's the PTSD but that always sounds like an excuse. How do I stop my brain from overreacting to tiny little things? I just want it to stop. I want to be the me I was before. I want the brain I had before. I want to be able to think and feel in control again. I want to bring him back to me. I want our life back, the one where we were happy and able to travel and go on day trips and camping and smile and laugh together.
I killed him. I was drowning myself and I pulled him down with me. I couldn't keep him afloat. I couldn't save him when I didn't even know how to save me. I'm still just treading water here.
I read a post about a woman now going through the same deal I'm going through with her late husband's employer - her husband has been dead from suicide for two years. Last year they finally accepted that he died from PTSD and granted her a worker's comp benefit her only source of income), now they've decided to appeal that decision. Welcome to the hell we lived in. These Class 2 employers who administer their own benefits think they can get away with this all the time, they know it will place the case in queue and because of the appeals backlog, it will sit there for years, possibly decades and they won't have to pay out anything, in the meantime, the claimant either dies or gives up. I'm not giving up. Husband would not have wanted me to give up. If I don't make this fight and I die in the meantime, I'm leaving instructions to my lawyer to continue for the sake of my estate.
They should not get away with treating us this way. I'm a human being. If I could rain down hell on each of the ones keeping me locked in this torturous limbo, I would. My employer is ignoring the advice of their own lawyer. He is advising them to settle, they are not entertaining the idea. I think that is ridiculous since they were trying so hard to push a pay off settlement and gag order down my throat BEFORE they fired me. They were keen on paying me to Go Away three years ago, so I don't understand what changed. The consequences of going to tribunal are not in their favor, the deliberate misinterpretation of the psychiatrist's reports alone is enough to bury them in a repayment scenario that is far more than what we were asking for, let alone the precedent it will set for every single case that comes after mine. These people stole my life and they took the life of my husband. No amount will ever be enough.
I miss my hubby. I miss him and I want him back home with me. It gets so bad sometimes. I just need so badly to feel his arms around me. He was real. He was here. He was mine. They took him from me. People need to stop telling me to let it go, forgive them, and not to be angry - I can't. As long as I'm stuck in this limbo, I can't. I can't move forward. I can't go back. I can't be me again. I can't bring him home again. I'm not me without him.
- Post starter
- #1,242
My husband's station partner killed himself yesterday.
He had wanted to come and visit in March but I was having a rough time, so I cancelled. I never heard from him again. He had said he wanted to visit with Tin. I thought at the time that it was a little unnerving.
No one saw it coming. He'd just finished a birthday celebration with his friends and then hung himself in his hotel room - very Chris Cornell.
If I were a betting person, I'd say he was a fan of Chris Cornell. The music seemed to be his "type".
I feel like a complete shit for not being well enough to talk to him in March. He was in a bad place that fall, I'd chatted with him a few times. He seemed to be getting better but his wife recently left him. I know he'd said in his last chat with me that he was glad he had the support of his daughter and wife.
No one saw it coming. They're all devastated again but if there was one person I was worried about, it was him.
I was wondering how long it would be before the next one. 15 months and 5 days.
I've been frantic since the first black badge was posted on social media this morning and I finally reached out to my old partner who told me. I've been crying since then.
My sister is coming down to be with me.
I couldn't help but be angry with her when I found out because she's the one that got me paranoid and all worked up surrounding his visit so I cancelled on him. I was convinced he had alterior motives and I hadn't been until she suggested them!
He needed someone to talk too. He used to confide in my husband. He wanted to visit with his ashes. He felt he could trust Tin. I denied him the ability to come to talk to him.
I feel bad.
But I also think, was his plan for coming here really to say goodbye? Had I allowed him that would he have killed himself that night? Did I sort of prolong his life by at least another two months?
He was a troubled man. He was very pessimistic and depressive. I had warned hubby about associating too closely with him because I knew hubby had a tendency to take on others moods. I wanted him to not get dragged into other people's negativity.
Now this guy is dead too. I hope they're together laughing now. I wonder if he realizes he's dead yet.
My old partner told me not to blame myself. She told me not to blame myself after hubby died. I told her I will because that's how it goes, they all will. She said if his daughter wasn't enough to keep him around, then she doesn't know what would have been enough. I said it wasn't about his daughter or his wife or anyone but his own mind being in a well it couldn't get out of. I'm sure he loved his family dearly.
He had wanted to come and visit in March but I was having a rough time, so I cancelled. I never heard from him again. He had said he wanted to visit with Tin. I thought at the time that it was a little unnerving.
No one saw it coming. He'd just finished a birthday celebration with his friends and then hung himself in his hotel room - very Chris Cornell.
If I were a betting person, I'd say he was a fan of Chris Cornell. The music seemed to be his "type".
I feel like a complete shit for not being well enough to talk to him in March. He was in a bad place that fall, I'd chatted with him a few times. He seemed to be getting better but his wife recently left him. I know he'd said in his last chat with me that he was glad he had the support of his daughter and wife.
No one saw it coming. They're all devastated again but if there was one person I was worried about, it was him.
I was wondering how long it would be before the next one. 15 months and 5 days.
I've been frantic since the first black badge was posted on social media this morning and I finally reached out to my old partner who told me. I've been crying since then.
My sister is coming down to be with me.
I couldn't help but be angry with her when I found out because she's the one that got me paranoid and all worked up surrounding his visit so I cancelled on him. I was convinced he had alterior motives and I hadn't been until she suggested them!
He needed someone to talk too. He used to confide in my husband. He wanted to visit with his ashes. He felt he could trust Tin. I denied him the ability to come to talk to him.
I feel bad.
But I also think, was his plan for coming here really to say goodbye? Had I allowed him that would he have killed himself that night? Did I sort of prolong his life by at least another two months?
He was a troubled man. He was very pessimistic and depressive. I had warned hubby about associating too closely with him because I knew hubby had a tendency to take on others moods. I wanted him to not get dragged into other people's negativity.
Now this guy is dead too. I hope they're together laughing now. I wonder if he realizes he's dead yet.
My old partner told me not to blame myself. She told me not to blame myself after hubby died. I told her I will because that's how it goes, they all will. She said if his daughter wasn't enough to keep him around, then she doesn't know what would have been enough. I said it wasn't about his daughter or his wife or anyone but his own mind being in a well it couldn't get out of. I'm sure he loved his family dearly.
scout86
VIP Member
REALLY sorry to hear this happened. It does seem like there should be a way to stop this stuff from happening, but I sure don't know how. It's a really helpless feeling.
You could speculate forever on what might have changed things. Try not to. There really isn't an answer to that question. :hug:
You could speculate forever on what might have changed things. Try not to. There really isn't an answer to that question. :hug:
- Post starter
- #1,244
- Post starter
- #1,245
I'm still sad. I won't find out about the funeral unless it's shared on social media, even then, I don't think I could go. There will be a lot of uniforms.
How much I wish I could be proud of that uniform and not be afraid of it. How much I wish I could be proud of having been a medic instead of angry and ashamed. How much I wish the past wouldn't taint my present. But it does and I have to accommodate to that.
Chris is never going to IM me again and even though his loss is mine too, I won't be included because I stopped being a part of them long before hubby took his own life. Hubby was their loss and I was included because I was the wife. I'm not even considered a "friend" or associate in Chris' case; no one knew he was reaching out to me and when I say he was, I'm told, "He was trying to be there to support you and express his loss of his friend, I hardly think he'd bring his problems to you when he knew you weren't equipped to deal with them." My answer was, "Did he tell you about his surgeries? You know then how much grief he was getting from management then? You know how bad his head space was all last year?" He told me those things, he told me he respected me and my hubby's opinions. He opened up to me.
I was worried for him. I know he liked hubby, I know he trusted him and I know they talked a lot over the years. Chris looked up to him.
The shock he must've gone through when hubby died. Like everyone who didn't see that crisis the day before, all of those people he laughed with that Thursday as he left work, the smile they saw as he walked to his car and began his week off, they didn't see a reason for his death by suicide only three short days later.
Life can get fouled up that quickly. Truly, it can.
Chris' friends didn't know as they lifted pints and cheered another year of his life that they weren't ever going to hear his voice again and in only a few short hours he would be silenced forever.
His ex-wife must be in hell right now. I wonder, if you're recently an ex- does that make it easier to function? Are you still caught up in your anger with him that caused you to leave in the first place that you have a more distant perspective on this?
I can hear them all now saying, "I just talked to him. He was fine." I'm sure Chris said those exact words about Tin.
No one can see inside you. No one can see that invisible cauldron boiling and churning and getting fuller by the day until it just spills over.
The trigger will be small, insignificant to others but to you, it will be world ending and you'll be floored and destroyed and you won't know how to ask for help, or the anger will prevent you from asking or the shame will tighten your vocal cords and all you can see is how your world is destroyed and how people will go on without you because they have too. You don't see that this frame of mind can change. Those feelings of anger and sadness and hurt will subside and you'll be able to feel again. It's a tidal wave and every wave recedes, you just have to let it wash past you. Hardest thing in the world to do.
You may even stay slightly depressed for a while. There may be a line of other small triggers waiting to send you back underwater but you ALWAYS come back up, you just have to let yourself come back up. You don't have to let it kill you.
You know, sometimes I've even felt like my own body was not under my own control. Like there was something actually working against me inside my own head wanting me to get up and just Do Something to end my own life. To end my misery, my sorrow, my self pity and my utter weakness. THe urge was so strong. I "fought".
People always try to define "fight" as something tangible, you do X action or you do Y action and you'll get through it. It's not that, its internal, in your head, almost metaphysical. That is why I often go limp and stay down. The more I move the more I take energy away from my side of the internal struggle and give it to the "other side". I don't want to die but often there doesn't seem to be a choice, nothing in life has meaning anymore. I'm struggling inside to find meaning, purpose, answers, reasons to not give up because I'm a hairs width from giving up.
The truly sad thing is, the pain keeps you silent. Your mind is tumbling, all the wrong phrases are popping up, the things you want to say are like footballs trying to pass your vocal cords so instead you scream them inside your head and you hope someone can hear or see it in your eyes. "I'm sorry"; "No more"; "Please help"; "I can't"; "I don't know how anymore"
"I'm so sad" I know now what hubby was trying to say and it makes me so angry that I couldn't see the depth of it. Sad is not destroyed, it's not depressed and wanting to die, it's shallow and transient. It's recoverable. But all the wrong words come out because there is no true way to describe what's boiling in that cauldron. There's no way to say it's boiling over and leaking out and draining away and I don't know how to put it back in where it's supposed to be. How do you say that?
Alcohol doesn't help. Alcohol takes away your ability to fight; drains energy from your side and gives it to the other. I offered hubby a cooler that evening hoping it would help him relax - he didn't want to relax. He said, "No. I'm afraid it will make me depressed." You see, he was already "sad" and he was fighting to stay him.
Chris went out with friends, he had a lot of alcohol. He was likely already "sad" and had been for a while. I know because since hubby's death I've been perpetually "sad" and only a few breaths from boiling over on any given day.
Chris lost the fight. Hubby lost the fight.
You're fighting on a ledge, everything is stacked against you and it's so easy to lose the battle. It's hard to keep fighting. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm fighting for this life anymore. Life itself I guess.
It can be such a shock. It can seem to come out of nowhere. You will have just seen them smile, or saw them wave or heard them laugh and suddenly, something sent them over the ledge and they're gone.
I'm going to miss Chris. We never ended our conversation. We never rescheduled that visit. Like hubby, he didn't say goodbye.
I didn't get to say, "I'm sorry I had to turn you away Chris. I wasn't in the proper frame of mind to take on your issues. I wasn't in the proper frame of mind even just to be a good friend. I couldn't help you and I'm sorry."
I need hubby to hug me.
How much I wish I could be proud of that uniform and not be afraid of it. How much I wish I could be proud of having been a medic instead of angry and ashamed. How much I wish the past wouldn't taint my present. But it does and I have to accommodate to that.
Chris is never going to IM me again and even though his loss is mine too, I won't be included because I stopped being a part of them long before hubby took his own life. Hubby was their loss and I was included because I was the wife. I'm not even considered a "friend" or associate in Chris' case; no one knew he was reaching out to me and when I say he was, I'm told, "He was trying to be there to support you and express his loss of his friend, I hardly think he'd bring his problems to you when he knew you weren't equipped to deal with them." My answer was, "Did he tell you about his surgeries? You know then how much grief he was getting from management then? You know how bad his head space was all last year?" He told me those things, he told me he respected me and my hubby's opinions. He opened up to me.
I was worried for him. I know he liked hubby, I know he trusted him and I know they talked a lot over the years. Chris looked up to him.
The shock he must've gone through when hubby died. Like everyone who didn't see that crisis the day before, all of those people he laughed with that Thursday as he left work, the smile they saw as he walked to his car and began his week off, they didn't see a reason for his death by suicide only three short days later.
Life can get fouled up that quickly. Truly, it can.
Chris' friends didn't know as they lifted pints and cheered another year of his life that they weren't ever going to hear his voice again and in only a few short hours he would be silenced forever.
His ex-wife must be in hell right now. I wonder, if you're recently an ex- does that make it easier to function? Are you still caught up in your anger with him that caused you to leave in the first place that you have a more distant perspective on this?
I can hear them all now saying, "I just talked to him. He was fine." I'm sure Chris said those exact words about Tin.
No one can see inside you. No one can see that invisible cauldron boiling and churning and getting fuller by the day until it just spills over.
The trigger will be small, insignificant to others but to you, it will be world ending and you'll be floored and destroyed and you won't know how to ask for help, or the anger will prevent you from asking or the shame will tighten your vocal cords and all you can see is how your world is destroyed and how people will go on without you because they have too. You don't see that this frame of mind can change. Those feelings of anger and sadness and hurt will subside and you'll be able to feel again. It's a tidal wave and every wave recedes, you just have to let it wash past you. Hardest thing in the world to do.
You may even stay slightly depressed for a while. There may be a line of other small triggers waiting to send you back underwater but you ALWAYS come back up, you just have to let yourself come back up. You don't have to let it kill you.
You know, sometimes I've even felt like my own body was not under my own control. Like there was something actually working against me inside my own head wanting me to get up and just Do Something to end my own life. To end my misery, my sorrow, my self pity and my utter weakness. THe urge was so strong. I "fought".
People always try to define "fight" as something tangible, you do X action or you do Y action and you'll get through it. It's not that, its internal, in your head, almost metaphysical. That is why I often go limp and stay down. The more I move the more I take energy away from my side of the internal struggle and give it to the "other side". I don't want to die but often there doesn't seem to be a choice, nothing in life has meaning anymore. I'm struggling inside to find meaning, purpose, answers, reasons to not give up because I'm a hairs width from giving up.
The truly sad thing is, the pain keeps you silent. Your mind is tumbling, all the wrong phrases are popping up, the things you want to say are like footballs trying to pass your vocal cords so instead you scream them inside your head and you hope someone can hear or see it in your eyes. "I'm sorry"; "No more"; "Please help"; "I can't"; "I don't know how anymore"
"I'm so sad" I know now what hubby was trying to say and it makes me so angry that I couldn't see the depth of it. Sad is not destroyed, it's not depressed and wanting to die, it's shallow and transient. It's recoverable. But all the wrong words come out because there is no true way to describe what's boiling in that cauldron. There's no way to say it's boiling over and leaking out and draining away and I don't know how to put it back in where it's supposed to be. How do you say that?
Alcohol doesn't help. Alcohol takes away your ability to fight; drains energy from your side and gives it to the other. I offered hubby a cooler that evening hoping it would help him relax - he didn't want to relax. He said, "No. I'm afraid it will make me depressed." You see, he was already "sad" and he was fighting to stay him.
Chris went out with friends, he had a lot of alcohol. He was likely already "sad" and had been for a while. I know because since hubby's death I've been perpetually "sad" and only a few breaths from boiling over on any given day.
Chris lost the fight. Hubby lost the fight.
You're fighting on a ledge, everything is stacked against you and it's so easy to lose the battle. It's hard to keep fighting. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm fighting for this life anymore. Life itself I guess.
It can be such a shock. It can seem to come out of nowhere. You will have just seen them smile, or saw them wave or heard them laugh and suddenly, something sent them over the ledge and they're gone.
I'm going to miss Chris. We never ended our conversation. We never rescheduled that visit. Like hubby, he didn't say goodbye.
I didn't get to say, "I'm sorry I had to turn you away Chris. I wasn't in the proper frame of mind to take on your issues. I wasn't in the proper frame of mind even just to be a good friend. I couldn't help you and I'm sorry."
I need hubby to hug me.
- Post starter
- #1,246
Can't sleep tonight. Just got bit by something twice, once on the lower leg and next on the opposite foot! Uggh, I think there's a spider in my room. I'm seriously hoping it's not a tick, I washed about 30 dead ones from my dog the other day.
Besides, I keep dreaming about hubby and how he died, the aftermath and how horrible I felt. My stomach is a huge ball of tension. I miss him. I'm missing him so badly tonight. I want to talk to him about Chris' death. I want to hear him tell me it was inevitable, that he saw signs and that he hoped it wouldn't happen.
I want hubby to be here telling me these things instead of dead by suicide himself. Oh, excuse me, Chris' death is "still under investigation" and "alcohol may have been a factor". Immediate denial, how typical.
This is hurting me more than it should. Yes, I knew and had worked with Chris in the past, but I haven't worked in almost a decade. The last time I saw him was three years ago (four years?) at my friends wedding and he came up and gave me a hug. You see, the thing with work was, although I worked with them all there were very few I considered "friends" but that didn't work in reverse; there were a lot of them who considered me a friend despite not associating with me outside of work. A lot of them considered me "friend" simply because of their close association with hubby at work (again, without that association extending outside of work). Chris fit in that category. In all honesty, we had only a handful of people we would see outside of work and even that was rare - we had each other, we didn't need anyone else.
Chris' death just causes my mind and body to go through the same exact things it went through last year. I feel physically exhausted. All of my muscles ache. I can't sleep. I am not hungry. I'm a ball of tension that I can't release. My stomach hurts. I'm on a roller coaster ride of emotion.
I hate it. I need to talk to hubby. I want him here, not dead. I need him. :(
Besides, I keep dreaming about hubby and how he died, the aftermath and how horrible I felt. My stomach is a huge ball of tension. I miss him. I'm missing him so badly tonight. I want to talk to him about Chris' death. I want to hear him tell me it was inevitable, that he saw signs and that he hoped it wouldn't happen.
I want hubby to be here telling me these things instead of dead by suicide himself. Oh, excuse me, Chris' death is "still under investigation" and "alcohol may have been a factor". Immediate denial, how typical.
This is hurting me more than it should. Yes, I knew and had worked with Chris in the past, but I haven't worked in almost a decade. The last time I saw him was three years ago (four years?) at my friends wedding and he came up and gave me a hug. You see, the thing with work was, although I worked with them all there were very few I considered "friends" but that didn't work in reverse; there were a lot of them who considered me a friend despite not associating with me outside of work. A lot of them considered me "friend" simply because of their close association with hubby at work (again, without that association extending outside of work). Chris fit in that category. In all honesty, we had only a handful of people we would see outside of work and even that was rare - we had each other, we didn't need anyone else.
Chris' death just causes my mind and body to go through the same exact things it went through last year. I feel physically exhausted. All of my muscles ache. I can't sleep. I am not hungry. I'm a ball of tension that I can't release. My stomach hurts. I'm on a roller coaster ride of emotion.
I hate it. I need to talk to hubby. I want him here, not dead. I need him. :(
- Post starter
- #1,247
I'm still in bed, it's almost 10 o'clock in the morning and I'm glad dogs don't mind sleep because we should have been gone and out the door for walks by now. My husband's watch is going off to signal his wake up time for his night shifts, it's in the bathroom right where he left it that last evening here.
He died by suicide. I can't wrap my head around that. Here I am looking for reasons for his coworker's suicide and I still can't figure out his own death.
I read an article about a woman whose husband killed himself, he was a successful business executive, he smiled all the time, was very athletic and involved in his community and with his family. He was a best friend to his sons, he adored his wife and wasn't a drinker or an addict of any kind. Looking back she thought maybe his runs were odd. He would go on long runs after work every single day, go get lost in himself for at least an hour or more. One day he came home early from work, carefully wrote out a note for her and left it on her bedside table and went into the pre-prepared bathroom and shot himself in the head. He never gave one indication that he might have been depressed or even upset with his life.
There were no answers. There were no signs and she was completely lost and still is. Like me, but unlike me, there was no precipitating event that she was aware of. Her husband was in the middle of a big project at work that was going well, his note was practical letting her know he loved her and the kids and where to find his will. He didn't write that he was sorry, he didn't express anything but his love for them even in his final note, he never let on just how tortured his soul was.
I knew hubby was upset about his physio appointment and the unconfirmed enlarged heart in his x-ray. I know he was "very sad" that night but I did not see that as a life ending event. It never in any incarnation should have been a life ending event, especially for him. But 20/20 hindsight and I can see how he was changing over that last year of his life. How he was getting more and more sullen, how he was succumbing more and more to stress, withdrawing more, easily aggravated, dreading going to work and not just jokingly, he was getting tired and worn down and I wished so badly I could just take him away on a months vacation somewhere.
I worked him on his days off by hiking and getting out because I wanted him to fight to keep connected to life because that is exactly what I was doing. I was on the verge of letting go because I was being affected by his negative moods just as much as he was being affected by mine. I stopped nattering on about my dull boring days because he always sighed like he was annoyed at my constant chatter about nonsense, like facebook or twitter or tv shows. I had no life (and still don't) outside of that. I didn't want to "burden" him any further than he was already feeling.
But I paint this picture of a miserable old man who throws stones at passing cars - he wasn't that. He was that a lot but he wasn't that ALL THE TIME. Most of the time he was still him, he laughed, he did his shakey butt dance in the livingroom, he cuddled, he "played", he asked, "What do you want to do today, Medic?" He would grab my face and lick it or pat my bottom or "dog-hump" my leg if he was excited. He was that person the majority of the time, but that silent, brooding one that sat on the couch lost in his own head, that person was always in there too. That's the person that started to take over whenever we went driving now. That's the person who took over when we had out "stay home" days. If I didn't keep him moving, that is the person who emerged and I didn't like that person. That person wasn't alive, they were just existing.
I knew that because that was me when he wasn't around. I was lost in my own head, negative, sad, feeling useless and struggling to find something for someone to be proud of me for.
People are "proud" of me now. I've survived so much, look at how strong I am. I'm not really that strong, I'm just still existing. Deep inside me is a blank void, pessimistic, sad and perpetually lonely. But I smile at everyone. I make light of things. I seem so okay that no one would ever believe how I feel inside. And I'm never believed when i try to tell people how I truly feel inside...just like I didn't believe hubby's "sad" could be a life ending depressive cry for help.
I cry too much. No one wants to hear it anymore. I pity myself too much. Everyone wants to see me "Do Something" about it. I'll be 50 in five years - my therapist wants to see me recovered and working by then. I want to stay retired, because I feel I've done enough in my short 20 years in the emergency services. I want to live some kind of life unencumbered by the demands of others - a simple life, that's all I'm asking for now. I just want to feel better about not having to serve other people any more.
I picked up and carried a large black garbage bag the other day. No reaction. Inside my head I was rapidly saying to myself out of fear, "It's not the same, it's not the same." and it wasn't. It wasn't the same. It was a large bag of hoarded refuse that made me angry, that I didn't understand. (Cleaned out my brother's basement, he's a hoarder of trash, I don't think he's put his garbage out all winter.) I removed 5 of those bags plus 20 other smaller white bags of trash and recycling from this man's basement. It was the anger that helped pull me through to function. I had no reaction. I had no after effects. I thought to myself, since my husband died, I've been functioning quite well in terms of my PTSD symptoms (comparatively). I can stay longer in the bathroom after flushing the toilet. I can look at ambulances for longer periods. I can tolerate seeing police cruisers with lights...but the sirens still get me. The babies still get me. Death still gets me. But I can sleep. When was the last trauma-related nightmare? Night terror? It's been a while.
It's almost like there was a huge piece of worry lifted from me when he died. I worried endlessly about him, his safety, his health, how I would react if something were to happen to him. I had often wondered, if he'd died from an accident or sudden medical loss, would I kill myself because I was so tied to him and he was my whole world. Now I've lost him to suicide and as unexpected as that was, it makes me fear "copying" him.
But someone had to copy him. It was almost inevitable. Like if he hadn't done it, there would be no suicide in that service. He was their "first"...and now he's not their last because male suicide is almost contagious, all it takes is one to seed a whole lot of others. How long until the next one? Especially since Chris went out the way he did, party, happy - gone.
Of course, he wasn't really their first, he was their first death - there are a lot of them who are attempt survivors. It's there under the surface, alive and well.
I just wish it wasn't him. He was a natural leader. He was a mentor. He was on a pedestal in his career.
He was my only love, my only guide and my greatest hero and I miss him so much every single day. :(
He died by suicide. I can't wrap my head around that. Here I am looking for reasons for his coworker's suicide and I still can't figure out his own death.
I read an article about a woman whose husband killed himself, he was a successful business executive, he smiled all the time, was very athletic and involved in his community and with his family. He was a best friend to his sons, he adored his wife and wasn't a drinker or an addict of any kind. Looking back she thought maybe his runs were odd. He would go on long runs after work every single day, go get lost in himself for at least an hour or more. One day he came home early from work, carefully wrote out a note for her and left it on her bedside table and went into the pre-prepared bathroom and shot himself in the head. He never gave one indication that he might have been depressed or even upset with his life.
There were no answers. There were no signs and she was completely lost and still is. Like me, but unlike me, there was no precipitating event that she was aware of. Her husband was in the middle of a big project at work that was going well, his note was practical letting her know he loved her and the kids and where to find his will. He didn't write that he was sorry, he didn't express anything but his love for them even in his final note, he never let on just how tortured his soul was.
I knew hubby was upset about his physio appointment and the unconfirmed enlarged heart in his x-ray. I know he was "very sad" that night but I did not see that as a life ending event. It never in any incarnation should have been a life ending event, especially for him. But 20/20 hindsight and I can see how he was changing over that last year of his life. How he was getting more and more sullen, how he was succumbing more and more to stress, withdrawing more, easily aggravated, dreading going to work and not just jokingly, he was getting tired and worn down and I wished so badly I could just take him away on a months vacation somewhere.
I worked him on his days off by hiking and getting out because I wanted him to fight to keep connected to life because that is exactly what I was doing. I was on the verge of letting go because I was being affected by his negative moods just as much as he was being affected by mine. I stopped nattering on about my dull boring days because he always sighed like he was annoyed at my constant chatter about nonsense, like facebook or twitter or tv shows. I had no life (and still don't) outside of that. I didn't want to "burden" him any further than he was already feeling.
But I paint this picture of a miserable old man who throws stones at passing cars - he wasn't that. He was that a lot but he wasn't that ALL THE TIME. Most of the time he was still him, he laughed, he did his shakey butt dance in the livingroom, he cuddled, he "played", he asked, "What do you want to do today, Medic?" He would grab my face and lick it or pat my bottom or "dog-hump" my leg if he was excited. He was that person the majority of the time, but that silent, brooding one that sat on the couch lost in his own head, that person was always in there too. That's the person that started to take over whenever we went driving now. That's the person who took over when we had out "stay home" days. If I didn't keep him moving, that is the person who emerged and I didn't like that person. That person wasn't alive, they were just existing.
I knew that because that was me when he wasn't around. I was lost in my own head, negative, sad, feeling useless and struggling to find something for someone to be proud of me for.
People are "proud" of me now. I've survived so much, look at how strong I am. I'm not really that strong, I'm just still existing. Deep inside me is a blank void, pessimistic, sad and perpetually lonely. But I smile at everyone. I make light of things. I seem so okay that no one would ever believe how I feel inside. And I'm never believed when i try to tell people how I truly feel inside...just like I didn't believe hubby's "sad" could be a life ending depressive cry for help.
I cry too much. No one wants to hear it anymore. I pity myself too much. Everyone wants to see me "Do Something" about it. I'll be 50 in five years - my therapist wants to see me recovered and working by then. I want to stay retired, because I feel I've done enough in my short 20 years in the emergency services. I want to live some kind of life unencumbered by the demands of others - a simple life, that's all I'm asking for now. I just want to feel better about not having to serve other people any more.
I picked up and carried a large black garbage bag the other day. No reaction. Inside my head I was rapidly saying to myself out of fear, "It's not the same, it's not the same." and it wasn't. It wasn't the same. It was a large bag of hoarded refuse that made me angry, that I didn't understand. (Cleaned out my brother's basement, he's a hoarder of trash, I don't think he's put his garbage out all winter.) I removed 5 of those bags plus 20 other smaller white bags of trash and recycling from this man's basement. It was the anger that helped pull me through to function. I had no reaction. I had no after effects. I thought to myself, since my husband died, I've been functioning quite well in terms of my PTSD symptoms (comparatively). I can stay longer in the bathroom after flushing the toilet. I can look at ambulances for longer periods. I can tolerate seeing police cruisers with lights...but the sirens still get me. The babies still get me. Death still gets me. But I can sleep. When was the last trauma-related nightmare? Night terror? It's been a while.
It's almost like there was a huge piece of worry lifted from me when he died. I worried endlessly about him, his safety, his health, how I would react if something were to happen to him. I had often wondered, if he'd died from an accident or sudden medical loss, would I kill myself because I was so tied to him and he was my whole world. Now I've lost him to suicide and as unexpected as that was, it makes me fear "copying" him.
But someone had to copy him. It was almost inevitable. Like if he hadn't done it, there would be no suicide in that service. He was their "first"...and now he's not their last because male suicide is almost contagious, all it takes is one to seed a whole lot of others. How long until the next one? Especially since Chris went out the way he did, party, happy - gone.
Of course, he wasn't really their first, he was their first death - there are a lot of them who are attempt survivors. It's there under the surface, alive and well.
I just wish it wasn't him. He was a natural leader. He was a mentor. He was on a pedestal in his career.
He was my only love, my only guide and my greatest hero and I miss him so much every single day. :(
- Post starter
- #1,248
Chris will be laid to rest tomorrow. I found his obituary online. It seems like a rushed thing, no mention of buses or honor guards or the like. Visitation hours will immediately precede funeral and burial. Quick and hasty, line em' up, get em' through, don't let the door hit you on the way out. I couldn't have done that to my husband, there were too many people who needed that mourning period, that necessary gathering and debriefing.
I had a strange experience today. The dog and I went hiking in the forest. I was being loud, talking and singing to the dog (afraid of bears) and yet, as we walked by a meadow, there in the shade stood a large deer. I stopped. It stopped. We stood staring at each other, at first tense, then we both relaxed and seemed to take in the awe of the whole experience. It was no more than 100 feet from me and we stood there for a good three or four minutes. I got a strange sensation about it. I'm not sure what, a knowing somehow, a recognition of some kind, this odd connection to this wild deer. And then it bounded off.
We continued on another few hundred feet through the forest and I heard a snap of a branch. I stopped and looked toward the trees. This one was closer, maybe about 50 feet away but in dense underbrush and hidden quite well, the only way I was sure it was a deer staring at me was that it flicked it's ears. Again, I got this sensation but it was more distant, like the connection wasn't as strong more like a familiarity. It was very strange.
As I drove home I thought, was it them? Was it Hubby and Chris? Did they come to show me they were okay?
When I got home I made a memorial for them. I placed a black ribbon around the Celtic cross in my garden that I bought last year to honor my hubby. I pinned their service crest to it and on each arm of the ribbon I pinned their badge numbers. I placed a vase of fuscia carnations below the cross. As I sat there, I was overcome with grief. I sat and cried for a few minutes with my head bowed and then went inside where I was bowled over by a wave of deep sadness. I stood in my kitchen bawling my eyes out for another 10 minutes.
I never wanted to lose him. I never wanted anyone else to follow him down that path. How many more will go now? How many blind eyes will there be screaming how they didn't see it coming? How many more of my old coworkers are going to die by suicide?
Chris would have turned 40 on the 19th of this month. Instead, he's being buried ten days before his birthday. He was 12 years younger than my hubby was when he died. Only 5 years my junior.
I know he was the pessimistic sort. Always complaining about management, or the union or finding some way to make an issue negative but he, like my husband had his mischievous streak. I remember always making him nervous by staring at him and smiling - he'd smile back then shift around, then finally look at me and say, "What!?" and I'd laugh. He had this perpetual look in his eye, like he was always up to something and THAT is why I always smiled at him because sometimes that look was never far off. Hiding someone's coffee or switching it with a cup of water, putting tape on someone's seat, powder in the air vents; these were the type of things he'd get up to. And he'd always play serious afterward, like he had No Clue who would want to do something so heinous. He always called me "girl". "Hey girl" or "Hey girly". He'd come up and shake my shoulders or massage them.
We weren't best friends, but while I was working, he was a friend and I saw him often. I didn't mind him most of the time because I could get him to smile and look at things in a different light - just like how hubby was able to do with me. We had fun when we'd work together. He had a great smile.
He looked up to hubby. Hubby set a very bad example, especially if Chris had always been struggling with depression. We never see it do we? It's always when it's too late do we say, "Yeah, well, he was always" this way or that way and we assume and try to make it okay. Chris started IM'ing with me in November of 2016. Said he'd attended a mandatory mental health course at work and had decided to take a long hard look at himself. Reassured me he was getting his shit together, seeing a counselor and putting his mental health back together. Indeed when I chatted to him in March, he seemed upbeat, more positive and in no way depressed. But again, we never see it, they'll always smile, say the right things and will hide it so well.
He was anxious to see me but especially wanted to "visit with hubby" which struck me as a little eerie, but who was I to judge or deny someone who needed their closure? I was going to grant that to him. It really pains me that I never got to do that for him. It really bothers me. Of course, it's moot now, they're probably together laughing, smoking cigars and playing practical jokes on people. Big smiles from ear to ear.
I think I bawled my eyes out today because I miss my husband and no matter how hard I wish or whatever I try, I can't ever bring him back home. It's like, here I was thinking about how this guy's family is going to "put him away" neat and tidy and move on and that makes it more real for me that I will never see my hubby ever again. He's been folded away neat and tidy and packed in a box forever. He's not alive somewhere out there in the world where I just can't access him. He's dead and I will never feel his arms around me or hear his heart beat as I press my ear to his chest and I so desperately need to feel his arms around me to make me feel safe.
I'm not just waiting for him to come home. I still want so badly for him to just come home. :(
I had a strange experience today. The dog and I went hiking in the forest. I was being loud, talking and singing to the dog (afraid of bears) and yet, as we walked by a meadow, there in the shade stood a large deer. I stopped. It stopped. We stood staring at each other, at first tense, then we both relaxed and seemed to take in the awe of the whole experience. It was no more than 100 feet from me and we stood there for a good three or four minutes. I got a strange sensation about it. I'm not sure what, a knowing somehow, a recognition of some kind, this odd connection to this wild deer. And then it bounded off.
We continued on another few hundred feet through the forest and I heard a snap of a branch. I stopped and looked toward the trees. This one was closer, maybe about 50 feet away but in dense underbrush and hidden quite well, the only way I was sure it was a deer staring at me was that it flicked it's ears. Again, I got this sensation but it was more distant, like the connection wasn't as strong more like a familiarity. It was very strange.
As I drove home I thought, was it them? Was it Hubby and Chris? Did they come to show me they were okay?
When I got home I made a memorial for them. I placed a black ribbon around the Celtic cross in my garden that I bought last year to honor my hubby. I pinned their service crest to it and on each arm of the ribbon I pinned their badge numbers. I placed a vase of fuscia carnations below the cross. As I sat there, I was overcome with grief. I sat and cried for a few minutes with my head bowed and then went inside where I was bowled over by a wave of deep sadness. I stood in my kitchen bawling my eyes out for another 10 minutes.
I never wanted to lose him. I never wanted anyone else to follow him down that path. How many more will go now? How many blind eyes will there be screaming how they didn't see it coming? How many more of my old coworkers are going to die by suicide?
Chris would have turned 40 on the 19th of this month. Instead, he's being buried ten days before his birthday. He was 12 years younger than my hubby was when he died. Only 5 years my junior.
I know he was the pessimistic sort. Always complaining about management, or the union or finding some way to make an issue negative but he, like my husband had his mischievous streak. I remember always making him nervous by staring at him and smiling - he'd smile back then shift around, then finally look at me and say, "What!?" and I'd laugh. He had this perpetual look in his eye, like he was always up to something and THAT is why I always smiled at him because sometimes that look was never far off. Hiding someone's coffee or switching it with a cup of water, putting tape on someone's seat, powder in the air vents; these were the type of things he'd get up to. And he'd always play serious afterward, like he had No Clue who would want to do something so heinous. He always called me "girl". "Hey girl" or "Hey girly". He'd come up and shake my shoulders or massage them.
We weren't best friends, but while I was working, he was a friend and I saw him often. I didn't mind him most of the time because I could get him to smile and look at things in a different light - just like how hubby was able to do with me. We had fun when we'd work together. He had a great smile.
He looked up to hubby. Hubby set a very bad example, especially if Chris had always been struggling with depression. We never see it do we? It's always when it's too late do we say, "Yeah, well, he was always" this way or that way and we assume and try to make it okay. Chris started IM'ing with me in November of 2016. Said he'd attended a mandatory mental health course at work and had decided to take a long hard look at himself. Reassured me he was getting his shit together, seeing a counselor and putting his mental health back together. Indeed when I chatted to him in March, he seemed upbeat, more positive and in no way depressed. But again, we never see it, they'll always smile, say the right things and will hide it so well.
He was anxious to see me but especially wanted to "visit with hubby" which struck me as a little eerie, but who was I to judge or deny someone who needed their closure? I was going to grant that to him. It really pains me that I never got to do that for him. It really bothers me. Of course, it's moot now, they're probably together laughing, smoking cigars and playing practical jokes on people. Big smiles from ear to ear.
I think I bawled my eyes out today because I miss my husband and no matter how hard I wish or whatever I try, I can't ever bring him back home. It's like, here I was thinking about how this guy's family is going to "put him away" neat and tidy and move on and that makes it more real for me that I will never see my hubby ever again. He's been folded away neat and tidy and packed in a box forever. He's not alive somewhere out there in the world where I just can't access him. He's dead and I will never feel his arms around me or hear his heart beat as I press my ear to his chest and I so desperately need to feel his arms around me to make me feel safe.
I'm not just waiting for him to come home. I still want so badly for him to just come home. :(
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