@gizmo, everything you say just rings so true. I hate it when I see happy couples, I feel like it's so unfair. I just want to scream at them. It makes me uncomfortable.
I was thinking about my ring today, at what point do you take that off or do you ever take that off? I know my mom wore hers for the rest of her life (she only lasted 8 years after my Dad died). It's hard also realizing that there will never be another "happily ever after" in your life, even if you decide to date or see someone else, it just won't be the same. I know it's not supposed too because everyone is different. but having spent your entire life with someone, all of those things you did together, all of your little Couple idiosyncrasies, no one can erase those and you're repeatedly struck by the memory of those things day in and day out. How is that fair to another person? I guess it would actually take a really patient and caring person to be able to handle that type of relationship...to play second fiddle to a memory.
I was very brave today. I felt the urge to run so I went. I got ready and went out the door. At first I started out planning to go to the grocery store but I ended up picking up a few things at the drugstore and then I was wanting to just drive anywhere. So I did. I ended up at the park. At first I said to myself, "I'll just go there and sit in the parking area." because I was too afraid to go in alone. Once I got there, there were many cars in the lot, so I reasoned with myself, "I will be safe, there are many eyes here. I will be seen and noticed. I won't be 'alone'." I got out of my vehicle, and walked around it, then decided to take out a hiking pole, it just so happened I grabbed my hubby's hiking pole. I stared at it and thought, "You're here aren't you? I'm not alone. You're here, this is your pole. Those are your ties on it. You are here with me." I went into the park. I felt safer carrying his hiking pole with me. I was not alone, it was almost like I could sense him with me, it was actually kind of eerie, I kept looking beside me and seeing no one there.
I sat at a picnic table in the sun and watched the geese out on the river. I saw a dog walker in the distance struggling with at least 6 dogs but other than that, no one else was in view, likely they were out of the public areas and on the trails. I stayed in the public areas. I walked along the beach talking to hubby's hiking pole. I stopped at our fishing cove and talked to the fry that were hanging around in the shallows. I made my way to the small dock and stood there talking to the geese. In reality, I wasn't talking to them, I was talking to him...aloud...and I didn't care who heard me. I figured if I looked like a crazy lady then for sure no one would bother with me.
When I left the park and got back into my vehicle I put my hand on the gear shift and I said to "him", "I just went for a hike all alone! Aren't you so proud of me!? Oh my God, I just went for a hike all alone. I wasn't scared. I did it. You were with me and I did it!" I could imagine him putting his hand over top of mine like he used too and I could feel him smiling at me. I could almost hear him say, "I'm always proud of you. I love you." like he always used to say when I'd do something brave by myself. Halfway home I burst out crying while driving. When I got a hold of myself again, I just started talking to him again.
I asked him things like I've said already here, "Why did you feel you had to leave me?", "I did everything I could to help you, I didn't know what else to do. I did everything I could do, what more could I have done to help you?", "I wasn't ready to let go of you, why did you think I'd be okay with this?" and "What is death? I don't know what that is, I don't know where you are. Why did you have to leave so soon? We weren't finished our life together yet."
I remember his face. I remember how he used to put his hand on mine and smile at me and say, "I'm always proud of you, I love you." I remembered his voice. I could almost hear it. He could make me feel so safe and loved with just one touch. I asked him a tough question for me to even say, "Was I too dependent on you? Was having to look after me and carry me financially too much of a strain on you? Did I place too much pressure on you to provide for me?" and then I cried again and said, "If I could have gone back to work, I would have, I hope you know that. I was trying so hard to take the pressure off of you. If I could have helped you that night, i would have, I would have made it all better for you. I would have."
I'm asking his forgiveness for my not being able to save him. He saved me on so many occasions and I could not reach him and keep him with me. I hate the universe for that.
Every time we were sitting on the couch and I was sad or I would just suddenly burst out crying for no reason, he would reach over, nudge me and just lift his arm up inviting me in so he could hug me. This was "snugs". I didn't give him snugs on the couch that night when he was crying. I should have just reached over and touched him. I never knew if I could or not because when he was sad or sick sometimes he hated it if I showered him with attention. He growled at me once when he was sick, "I just want to be left alone. I don't like being fussed over." I feel guilt about not reaching over to him that night, even though later I laid down with him on the floor and I hugged him and i rubbed his back and I stroked his hair and I put my forehead to his and I told him I loved him and I wished I could make him feel better. He stayed sad.
I go over that night in my head, even though I try hard not too anymore, I can't help it sometimes. I wonder just what his plan was why he wanted to sleep there on the floor on the air mattress. Was he planning to wait until I'd fallen asleep and then sneak off to do the same thing that he did? I know when he came upstairs to bed I said, "I thought you were going to sleep on the floor" and he said, "No, I got scared." You see, it never occurred to me that he might have gotten scared of how close he was to ending his life and had changed his mind right there at that point, so he came to bed with me because he scared himself. He'd always had issues with being alone in the dark, so I figured that he'd just gotten scared of being alone in the dark of the living room. Now that he's dead the way he died, it makes sense why he was "scared" that night.
Why did he wake up and change his mind back again? Why didn't he just hold on? Why didn't he just get scared again and come to me!?
I can never answer these questions. This is not for me to know. I don't know how to carry those questions around with me for the rest of my life. In suicide "Why?" holds the same power as the "What if?" of PTSD. Neither can ever be answered.
Was he really that close to having saved himself? He "got scared." I'm scared a lot now because he's no longer here to protect me.
I miss the hell out of him.
