My husband died today

[seedling]

I believe all that love and comfort you give to your bears is stored there in them. To be there for you later and to be reflected back to you as you give to them.

As you grieve and things change tiny bit by tiny bit there will be new beginnings in your life. Maybe way down the road from now. I don't believe that you will forever be without the kind of support that you want in your life.

Here are a lot of hugs to ease your pain and fears. :hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug:

 

[NarcSis]

Bad day today. I just can't stand the reminders, knowing I'll never feel him again is just shredding me inside. I'm lying in bed crying while sister prepares dinner.

I'm bargaining with the universe. I'm calling out his name and just screaming somewhere deep inside.

I want to be strong again. I want to be with him again, like it was. I want our normal back.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

I can so relate and I want you to know that you are perfectly normal for what you have experienced and I can relate to needing the good hugs from my husband and I miss them still. Next month will be three years since he died.

Lots of hugs to you and know this you are doing the best you can and society just wants those who have lost a spouse to get over it and move on with their lives until it happens to them and then they understand.

I have a very good friend who really was not there for me when my husband died and then a year later her husband died and it unlocked a door that gave us real bonding.

I am very sad that there are no grief groups for you, I went to a grief group but did not like the therapist so I dropped out. I had a history with her and she was not a good moderator.

So keep on writing and pour your heart out here because you will be understood here. You are not alone and you will miss your husband for a long time. It is like having a big part of you getting amputated off. It comes and goes the grief and the memories. I got to a point when I was being flooded with good memories and that is when my regrets started as well.

I did the best I could for my husband, but it sure is a lonely experience to go through in the aftermath. You are doing the best you can and I admire you for doing so many things. Just one foot in front of the other ok? It does get better with time passing which really sucks. It is such a hard thing to go through. Lots of hugs for you.

 

[NarcSis]

@gizmo, thank you so much, it feels so much better knowing that what I'm going through is normal, I wish there was a way to skip this step and just cope but I guess at some points you have to crawl.

I had an issue with my sister this morning and we both ended up crying, me openly and her by going to the washroom. I have my old friend coming over on Saturday, he's not coming over alone, he's bringing another male friend with him so no, there are no "unchaperoned" visits going on here with me and no I'm not arranging dates already (the man has a girlfriend for crying out loud). Regardless this is the old friend that I used to know before my husband, the one everyone was convinced I was dating and to this day my sister still refuses to believe that we shared a purely platonic relationship! Anyway, she had this dream last night and I was somewhere in her dream with him and both she and my brother were trying to find me and they were angry that I'd gone off to be alone with "that guy". Yes, it's a dream but it also speaks volumes about where her mind is with regard to this whole thing.

I got angry. I got angry over her dream. I said to her, "Well, I guess things are going back to when we were kids then, I won't be allowed to have my own friends again and I won't be able to spend time with anyone ever again in my life unless you're there." I stopped short of saying that I'm a grown woman and I don't need my life supervised. I didn't even say it angrily even, I used more of a depressed tone because I have been very depressed the past two days. It just kept running through my mind, "I'll never have my own life ever again".

The only life I was allowed to have as my own was my life with my husband because I was away at school when I started dating him and I kept that completely secret from her so that she could not interfere. Believe me over the years she tried to get in between us and sow discord. I don't know if that was just jealousy for his taking away her sister or what but I will not put up with her interfering in my life post husband. She is not my guardian! I am a fully grown independent woman who can make my own decisions and mistakes if I want too.

I'm not a child!

Besides, she cannot be my sole support system she lives TWO HOURS AWAY! I need people here within a reasonable distance to me. I need people who can come over when I need someone to talk too or just be with watching a movie or taking a walk or share a meal with. I need those people in my life. I cannot rely on my family they live too far from me and they suck at being a support system anyway. I need to stay being ME and not revert back to being "the little sister" who is incompetent and unable to look after herself.

Heaven forbid I be "needy". In her mind that is weakness. Needing to be with other people is a weakness. She has never needed other people...and yet, she is a very social person when she goes home and she is so well "liked" on FB. She even said to me after my husband died, "Oh yeah, you're needy like that, I was never that way." That makes me angry - so what if I need people, so what if I eventually end up meeting someone and moving on from my husband? He's dead, he's not here anymore and he is never coming back. I potentially have 40 more years of life (she scoffs at that too, saying I won't live past 65 because she won't). What am I supposed to do in those 40 years? Live in isolation, become a hermit and adopt 30 cats to fill that loneliness void??? If it's currently not acceptable for me to be so depressed over his death, then why in hell am I supposed to be spend the rest of my life pining over him and being alone?? If I eventually move on (not likely because I'm not the most social person in the world) it won't mean I don't still love him or I"m "over him", it will mean that I've grown to accept his absence and I'm able to accept that I have companionship needs.

The messages people send you after someone dies are so conflicting it just drives me nuts. One day I'm being shown these pictures of scantily clad muscled men and encouraged to leer - which, by the way, feels so absolutely wrong to me right now and most of those men are just babies! - and the next day, I'm being told that it's wrong for people to "just move on like that" after their spouse dies. I don't know what I'm supposed to even feel from one day to the next other than empty and alone. Oh and yeah, by the way, showing pictures of scantily clad "babies" and not mature real men, does not make me feel better. In fact, it makes me remember him when he was that way and it makes me miss him more. I loved his big strong arms around me. He used to love me when I'd reach out and feel his arms and his shoulders because I was so fascinated by the sheer amount of muscle beneath his skin. So no, pictures of young men are not "hot" to me, they're not real and they're not my man.

I miss my man. It hurts so bad its almost unbearable at times.

I was lying on the bed having "silent nap time" today - and I said it to my sister that way too, "I have to go have nap time now, okay? Otherwise I will be grumpy later." She was okay with it when I said it that way - anyway, I was having silent nap time but really I was in my room crying into the pillow and opening my mouth and screaming silently to the room. The pain felt like it was tearing me up inside. I just miss him so much. It doesn't make it better to see his pictures when I'm like this, it makes the pain more intense. I just needed some sensory deprivation and to get rid of that pent up energy. I cried myself to sleep and I slept for over two hours!

My body feels heavy. I feel like my energy reserves have been emptied. I'm tired again and it's early for me.

His mom called again tonight apparently its a bad day for her too...and she wasn't this close to him for the last half of his life. The thing I don't get though is that if its a bad day for her, then why does she do everything to avoid speaking about what it is that is exactly making her feel bad??? I start to open up to her about how I'm feeling and why (missing him) and I get the subject changed immediately. I don't think I've actually spoken to her about him being dead since that night when he died. You can feel that tension on the line when I say ridiculous things like, "that day when he passed." I hate using that term but everyone seems to cringe when I use the word dead or died. That's what he is. Anyway, she tends to pause and go quiet if I even broach the topic, so i'm careful to avoid talking about his death at all. I could really use someone to talk too about it though, to talk about him with and that day...

I don't think she'll ever get the full my side of the story about what happened that weekend. I don't think she'll ever really understand just what frame of mind he was in for those few months leading up to his death. He didn't mention it to her, not unless he called her to talk but I have his phone, I've gone through all of his emails and phone records, he never once mentioned the amount of stress he was under for the past few months - see? I did it again. It wasn't "the past few months", it was the months leading up to his death.

According to his family doctor I was contributing factor to his death because he was under "considerable stress over his wife's PTSD", at least that's what he wrote on the insurance paperwork. My question is, if he knew my husband was "under considerable stress" why in hell did he not refer him to someone??? Apparently my husband made this confession to him in October! So instead of getting him help he just ignored it and downplayed it? So I guess my PTSD stressing him was supposed to somehow ease off or something?

We'd both been under considerable stress since the PTSD diagnosis. It was 8 years of an unending battle for both of us and things were just starting to seem like they were improving. I was seeing an end to the fight that was causing us so much of that stress. We were going to get a settlement of some kind. He'd already started counting the chickens and I was upset over that because I couldn't trust anything not even something that was almost a guarantee. He only had to hold out for another three months and our nightmare would have been over. His salary would have been his in its entirety because I was going to pay off our mortgage. Our financial situation would have improved. He just had to hold on a little bit longer.

I was a bitch yes. I'm not arguing that. I hate admitting that because not only does it bring me massive guilt but it gives people something to pin it on - me! I was no peach to live with. I've already said that. I knew it was hard on him dealing with the mood swings, the irritability, the repeated crying for unknown reasons, the thinking it was his fault and lately, my needing more and more time away from him as the date for our final hearing approached. I don't know exactly how deeply my PTSD effected him but it did, there is no arguing that. It's not easy living with someone with PTSD, ask any supporter.

He's gone now. I will never hear his voice. See his smile. Feel him. He no longer exists. I still love him so deeply. If he ever had any doubt, wherever he is, I hope he can see me and feel my pain because I loved the hell out of him. He was my first love and my only love, there was never anyone better than him in my eyes. I'd never known anything like that before I met him. We always said that we felt like we were made for each other and it did. He knew me on a level that no one else could ever decipher. I liked that I knew him so well. I liked that no one else got to know him that way - I was his special one and he was mine.

I hate PTSD for driving a wedge into our relationship. I hate that he gave up and left me the way he did. I'm sorry he felt he had to go. I wish I could bring him back to me but I can't. I never will be able too and to try to hold onto that relationship and close myself off to life? It seems ridiculous. The fact is that time marches on. I am merely a leaf on the river of time. I can't stop it and live in this place of him forever. My life will change. People won't like the way it changes. I'm not sure if I will. All I know for sure is that I won't ever stop loving him. I won't ever stop missing him. Time won't change that and no one can replace him or the love I gave to him. That love was his alone.

I miss him.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Medic72 I so remember how hard it was to deal with people after my husband died and our culture does not give us permission to grieve and I found it was a taboo subject for many people around me. They had not been through it so they avoided it. Too scary to think about I am guessing. Too uncomfortable but that does not help you at all.'

The challenge for you I believe is finding your own path and rediscovering the hidden real you. It is a process and I am still learning. I just realized that I need more human contact than I have had and the feelings of loneliness are coming up for me a lot.

Do and follow your heart and trust your gut instincts and gather all of the healthy support that you can find. Be true to yourself. hugs

 

[seedling]

I was contributing factor to his death because he was under "considerable stress over his wife's PTSD"

First off, it's not "you", it's the impact of your illness.
Second, this could have just as easily read: His son's autism, his mother's Alzheimers. It's an illness and a stressor. Lots of people live with the consequences of illnesses.
It's not you.
Yeah, and why didn't his doctor suggest more support? That's how stressors are dealt with.

Sorry about the stress of the settlement issues - been there, and only for three years. Major stress for anyone, not to mention the PTSD playing in to it. Everyone in the household is at the limit when stuff like this is in the picture.

He only had to hold out for another three months

He just had to hold on a little bit longer

I hate that he gave up and left me

His suicidality was an illness.
My friend's husband got sick at Christmas and they had to cancel a vacation, flight plans etc. No way to say "If he just hadn't gotten sick, stayed well a few more days" we could have gone.
Maybe you disagree with me. That's the way I have to look at it based on the way I feel when I'm thinking about dying. It's just got such a hold on me and nothing matters. When I'm "back" I'm aghast at myself, realize how off I've been.

I don't think he wanted to leave you.

she tends to pause and go quiet if I even broach the topic,

Do you think she might feel some guilt? Trying not to think that she had some responsibility (hmm)?
If it was my son I don't think I'd ever let go of wondering.

I don't think she'll ever get the full my side of the story

Maybe she doesn't deserve to.

I hope he can see me and feel my pain

I think he is as close to you as it is possible for him to be. I don't think he would want to be anywhere else. Your love has tied you together forever. Your sometimes being a bitch and him sometimes being a jerk over the daily stuff doesn't change that.

I was his special one and he was mine

YES, this!


I hope I haven't offended you by anything I've said. All the peace to you that's possible.

 

[NarcSis]

I'm avoiding.

I won't drive by that street. I noticed today as I was coming home from our drive in the country that i was headed the regular way that he and I would take after we'd gone to the park hiking but when it came time to taking the short cut I went the long way around - taking the short cut takes me by that street.

I won't leave our subdivision that way, i will drive through the residential streets to get to the area on the other side of that street. If I have to leave the subdivision that way, I do not look up toward that stop sign anymore. I get all shivery and anxious in my stomach and I just want to squeal my tires and go racing through the intersection. If I'm coming home and waiting to turn into the subdivision, I will look toward the street and feel a heaviness in the pit of my stomach. Dead. That's the word that troubles me so much. I look toward that street, heck, even if I consciously avoid looking there, my mind knows exactly where it is and it generates these feelings of dread in me and the word "DEAD" echoes in my thoughts.

He is dead.

I am acutely aware of the location of that street all hours of the day no matter where I am, even right now, sitting here on my bed typing this, I can point you in the exact direction of that street....it's right off the right side of my forehead, just take a line straight out from that point and you'll hit the exact spot that he died in about 7 or 800 metres (through houses).

If you go in the opposite direction, off the left rear side of my head just behind my ear and you draw a straight line through the countryside and the city streets, you will arrive at the building where my trauma took place. You've gotta love this innate sense of direction I have in my head. It used to be fascinating to me but now it's just annoying because my brain is highly aware of these two exact locations now 24/7.

I went to that site two days after his death and I laid a rose down for him. So I have gone there but now, it brings up feelings that I don't like to be feeling and so I am avoiding the area. I will need to work on desensitizing myself to it eventually though because I am going to have to live here for a very long time. I have to take my neighborhood back and own it as mine again.

Just not right now.

There are other ways to get to where I want to go; the park, out of town, or just exploring, for now I can go out of my way and be okay with it.

My sister and I went on a country drive today. We went to a small sandwich shop out in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, we pulled into the parking lot and BLAM there it was in all of it's blazing glory - my husband's car! Only it wasn't his car, you see, I automatically checked the plate number, his car was destroyed into scrap metal. This was the exact make, model and color and I almost didn't know how to park my own vehicle after seeing it. My sister talked me into a parking spot and as I went to get out, there right beside me was yet another of the exact same car only in a dark grey color!! Like what are the odds??? I felt sick to my stomach. It's that car I keep seeing when I think of that day, that stupid car. I never saw him, I saw his car. His car is associated with his death now - images of his car mean Death to me now.

In the weeks after his death my entire family was acutely aware of how many times they would meet up with that car. I was seeing it everywhere, it's like everyone in my neighborhood and town had suddenly gone out to buy one in the exact color. That awareness has settled some, I no longer notice it everywhere I go but I do notice it from time to time now, but this today? That was it slammed in my face and forced down my throat. I felt like I could gag. I wanted nothing more than to just get into the shop and not have to look outside to the parking lot again. Sister wanted to relax and kick back sipping her cappucino after lunch but I really wanted out and away from those cars, so we left almost immediately - she didn't understand why I wanted to leave right away. Uggh.

We went to the park. I could hear the squirrels chirping and chasing one another. I got to hear the roar of the water rushing out of the dam. I heard the birds chirping. I heard the geese honking. I felt the cold wind chilling my body. I felt my hands freezing in the cold. I felt what alive really is and it was so reassuring to me. I am alive and in amongst life when I'm out there in that park. I am not dead. I am living just as the pine trees are living, just as the grass is living. He is dead....yet in that park, his memory is still so alive with me. It's like the trees remember him, the grass remembers him, the geese, the birds, the water...he was just here with them in January, the week before he died. He is still there in some way. He is not dead there, he is very much alive. I am alive with him there in that park.

I know he's dead. I know I can never interact with him again ever. I know my life has to go on and it is so unfair to have to live like this but I can't change it. I can't bring him back to me. I have to find him in the things we shared together; the life we had together. I can't keep letting that intersection haunt me. I can't keep his death front and center in my mind, I have to think past it. I have to move away from it.

I will learn how to accept that intersection and that street again. I will take back my power from his death there eventually. For now, I will avoid it until I'm truly ready. I loved him and I'm still hurting. I miss him.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

I understand you avoiding the triggering spot. It can last for a very long time. This one is so powerful that I understand.

I am slowly going to places my husband and I went to and it is getting easier than it was at first. It will get better in time just hang on get yourself through each day as you are able. The first year is the hardest and you have so many other complications to his death and no wonder you are feeling such poweful feelings. Hugs.

 

[stillstanding2]

Heaven forbid I be "needy". In her mind that is weakness.

I found that after my wife died I was accused of that "weakness" several times by people who were either very shallow or were so caught up in the shallowness of other people that they couldn't recognize my state of mind for what it was. What I was seeking was sincerity, both in my self and in others, having known the depth of intimacy and honest connection.

Many well-meaning-but-outgoing people seem almost fearful of meaningful conversation. And some can't handle it, having never experienced it themselves.

 

[NarcSis]

@gizmo, you're right, the first year will be the hardest. It is a long adjustment period and trying to hold on to things that time will place further and further away from me. Here I am after only 70 days expecting that I should be "over him" and "moving on" with my life. One day at a time. Some days I will live in the harsh past and other days I will live in the happy past. Regardless of how I look at it, this entire year will be an adventure into the bittersweet after effects of loss.

having never experienced it themselves

You're quite right there. My sister has never had a boyfriend, let alone a close loving friendship with a man (or woman) that she was not related too. I did. I alone know what it's like to be connected to another human being in that way. I mean she makes sex jokes that are so immature and naive for a woman her age that sometimes I wonder how one could remain so childishly naive their entire life and be okay with that. She's never emotionally connected to another person in the way I connected to my husband. Emotions are her "enemy" because they chip away at that tough exterior front she puts up. I can't talk to her about the things I'm really going to miss about him because she does not understand.

Oddly my male friend whose coming to visit tomorrow can sometimes be very emotionally intelligent and then other times, he may as well be my sister with how emotionally distant he is. I don't know what I'm going to get tomorrow. I do know that whatever it is, it will be a distraction from my depressive mood state. The house is so silent right now without my sister here that it's almost eerie. I've barred my bedroom door in an effort to make myself feel more comfortable and able to sleep again. I'm glad she's gone and then I wish she were still here. I guess it's the devil you know.

I considered taking his things out of the shower today and freeing up a shelf on the shower caddy but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I swing back and forth every morning on the decision to remove his towel from the hanger on the back of the door - I can't do that yet either. I don't know when I will finish tidying up the basement but I've told everyone who keeps wanting to come over and help me do it that I need to do it on my own. It's like therapy for me to go through his private things and besides, they were his private things, he'd be so angry to have his private things exposed to other people - nothing scandalous mind you, just his hobbies, his passions, his collections and his habits. I would never do that to him. His stuff was sacred to him, so it needs to be put away and sorted honorably and with as much care as possible. I think I will go back to it on Sunday if I feel up to it.

I still feel like I would like to take one day and just stay in bed all day. Just sleep, read, type and relax. Maybe one day this week I will.

I still miss him so much.

 

[Tinyflame]

It's like therapy for me to go through his private things and besides, they were his private things, he'd be so angry to have his private things exposed to other people - nothing scandalous mind you, just his hobbies, his passions, his collections and his habits. I would never do that to him. His stuff w needs to be put away and sorted honorably and with as much care as possible. I think I will go back to it on Sunday if I feel up to it.

I still feel like I would like to take one day and just stay in bed all day. Just sleep, read, type and relax.

I think that's profoundly loving & respectful @Medic72 . :notworthy: :inlove:

Please do take the time & in whatever manner you need for yourself. Xoxox. :hug: :hug: :hug:

 

[NarcSis]

I woke up exhausted today, nightmare last night and I ended up not feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep until I barred the door with something. It always seems to be like that after my sister leaves, it will likely take me a few days to get used to being alone at night again.

I had two old friends come over today and it was so nice to sit all afternoon and have mature, intelligent conversation with someone. It just did wonders for me that I was sad to see them go. It was fun, it was stimulating and it was so what I needed. My hubby and I used to sit and just talk some afternoons, even if we'd made plans to go out, we'd sometimes get so wrapped up in conversation that we'd often lose track of time and before we knew it, we'd have spent three hours just talking. That was the kind of conversation I enjoyed today, just one that went from topic to topic and had that give and take of normal conversation rather than having someone just talk at you to tell you something.

It was just so rejuvenating, I just wished they could have stayed - or just moved in, lol.

I so miss mature conversation. I miss talking about boring everyday stuff and sharing stories with people. I miss sitting and examining issues from a sociological point of view, uggh, I just miss having smart people around me. I think it was funny that my old friend said the same thing because he works in an industry that doesn't match his educational status. I used to find that despite being able to have conversations with my peers at work, that many of them would get that same lost look on their faces that my sister would when I really started talking about something, my husband would say the same thing and he told me once that he loved coming home to me because at least I was "at his level."

My hubby had a bit of dyslexia, so he was a slow reader and his spelling was a little off but that didn't mean he wasn't an intelligent guy - he was highly intelligent. He worked very hard to compensate for his (barely noticeable) disability and he never admitted to having a "disability". He also had a very good memory, so the cliche about women being able to quote you something wrong you'd done seven years ago and using that against you for the rest of your life? Yeah, husband could do that. He didn't forget much. Before PTSD, I would say I had a very adept memory, after PTSD I had trouble remembering things I'd just done let alone things I'd just read or the sequence things occurred in. Hubby had a very keen memory and I started to rely on him a lot.

My husband always felt lesser than other people who had university degrees because he didn't hold one. That always bothered him and I think he was jealous of other people. We were planning to get him a degree online once our settlement came in - if only just to bolster his self esteem. He believed he was dumb but he was FAR from dumb, had he had the financial means when he was younger and a tutor for his disability, he likely would have become a physician, instead, he dropped out of university and "settled" for community college and being a paramedic.

He and I were so much alike. The things we liked, the things we said, the actions we made even at times often mirrored one another. He would always say to me jokingly, "Get out of my head!" If I'd open my mouth and ask him a question that he was just about to ask me. Or if we both got up, went to the kitchen and reached for the same mug. There were times I would swear he could read my mind, it was so uncanny at times that we'd sit and stare at each other shocked. Of course, when we'd try to read each other's minds it never worked. I think we were just that much in sync with one another.

After PTSD in me things changed. We were less in sync and often on completely the opposite pages. I had trouble getting a sense of him and I think he had the same problem with me. There was a lot of misinterpreting, a lot of passive aggression and butting heads. We tried to work through that because I knew it was the PTSD and it didn't mean we were no longer compatible. I was just starting to be able to get that sense of him on occasion again so it feels so incredibly distressing to not have him here anymore.

I still fully expect to see him in the house. I was sweeping the stairs to the basement today and I paused, sat down on the stairs like I used to do and looked over toward the treadmill. I thought I'd see him there and say to him, "Hey, Tin!" like I used too when he was working out. I really wished I would see him. I didn't. It was sad. So I spoke to him as if he were there.

I was also a little afraid to look toward where the guns were stored because I was afraid I'd see him there. As I got closer to the bottom stair I was sweeping, I made myself look over into that corner just to reassure myself that he was not there. Instead I stood there trying to imagine his actions that morning. Watching him in my head as he got the gun out of the box and carefully put the box back where it was. Carefully moving the white fan in the way to block the path into that area. Carrying the gun and the cleaning kit toward the treadmill so he could clean it. I sometimes expect to see him standing there, holding that gun, sad and sorry that he died and left me alone. That is the area where I most expect to see him standing.

Uggh, I miss him. I'm sad when I think about him. He was such a smart man. He was such a good man. He was such a smiling man. He had this infectious giggle. He was a joker and loved getting people with his stories. His big thing was being able to tell a story with a straight face and see how many people he could rope in before he started to laugh. He was my silly man. He would close his eyes, tilt his head up and shake his hips when he'd hear a song he really liked. He sang with this hoarse voice but that never stopped him when he was around me. He'd laugh when he'd grab me to dance because I didn't ever let him lead. He liked making me laugh hard, you could tell just the way he looked at me when I was breathless with laughter that he loved the sound of it. He was so devoted to me. I was completely dedicated to him. He was supposed to be my one and only. I thought he'd long out live me and he more than likely could have because it was in his genes. He came from a long lived family line. He would have lived long after I was gone.

His taking his own life makes no sense and at the same time it makes perfect sense in context of the circumstances. I hate the cliches people come out with about seeing signs ahead of time and being able to prevent people from taking their lives. My "ahead of time" was 20 hours. For so many people to be saying that they saw "how sometimes he'd get withdrawn and moody" at work? That's crap. He'd always needed his "away time" from "the kids" because he rarely felt he fit in with them anymore. A lot of those new "kids" treated him like he was elderly and stupid despite his reputation. He was constantly frustrated with their lack of ability to follow simple instructions and trying to usurp his authority on a scene. My husband took everything to heart.

At work my husband rarely felt he got the credit he deserved, despite winning awards. He felt he was being followed by a "black cloud" to the extent that at one point people referred to him as the grim reaper and new people and those who were burnt out were afraid to be assigned to work with him. His reputation for always drawing the worst luck when it came to calls bothered him some days and made him feel invincible on others. Every bad and horrific call he had taught him a new lesson and made him the award winning medic with that stellar reputation that he had. And despite all that, he still felt he wasn't good enough in that job. He was getting worn down. He was looking for a change of pace. He was considering leaving the road to become a supervisor and he felt he was getting passed over again. He wondered aloud one day if it was because of what was happening with me and the appeals process hell we were in.

That appeal took a lot out of him. You could almost feel the wind leaving his sails when he had to deal with my recurring depression and symptoms each time a new meeting came up. He loved his work and hated his employer. In the end, he hated his body because of his injuries and how disabling they were becoming - especially after what I'd gone through with our employer and after what other coworkers had gone through with their physical illnesses and injuries (unscrupulously being fired), he felt he would meet with the same fate and we would both be unemployed. We would lose everything we'd worked our entire lives for.

Sadly, I don't blame him for thinking that. It wasn't a completely ridiculous thought. We'd seen it happen to others. We'd been living it through me for the past three years. It was not a far fetched idea at all, it was an actual possibility. That employer doesn't give second chances to people who are ill or injured, they put them through hell and they fire them or they trick them into a contract to get them out of union protection and they fire them. His fears in those 20 hours leading up to his death were founded in a reality that was entirely possible. He had to stop that from happening to us...again. He made a decision that he felt would work out best for me. He made a decision to die to head off what was in his mind the inevitable end of his career and his reputation shattered.

He made a decision to die and I will never ever forgive my employer for placing him under that much stress, for creating the situations that would lead everyone under their care to fear them so much that they would rather die. A man of impeccable reputation as a paramedic took his own life rather than face the possibility of having to go up against them in a fight for his own career.

The real tragedy is that his illness was not real, it was a Schroedinger's illness , we hadn't proven or dis-proven anything yet. He didn't hang on long enough to investigate things any further to see if he was really ill or not.

Instead he chose to die. I don't understand why him. I don't see how this could happen to him. I miss him so damned much, I wish that one family member from each of our employers families would die by suicide too. I wish the universe would take their children and loved ones from them in the most harsh and tragic of ways. I wish they would suffer far worse than I have, worse than anything imaginable.

I want nothing more than to just wrap my arms around him and cuddle him and tell him life is going to be okay, that he is going to be okay and we are going to go on, like we planned and get old together and that we are going to be okay. I want nothing more than to be able to tell him I forgive him for dying, I'm not angry at him for leaving me and I love him still, despite how he died. He was my husband. My one and only. I love him so much.