We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I am not alone (why I am glad I blog)
I'm sitting here, calmly typing this and it's been 622 days since my husband died.
I know exactly how many days because of my regular blog.
But to think that I can type this without tears would have been unthinkable a year ago.
I began writing about my pain just over a month after the accident.
I blogged everything because I knew I'd always be able to find it ... the internet being forever and all.
Now I read those posts back and tears stream down my face.
Was that me?
How did I ever survive such pain?
How did I keep my kids functioning and how on earth did they get from those first jagged, razor-sharp days to these days of a duller, aching pain?
(Pain which still flares up both rapidly and unexpectedly but the jagged edges are not quite so sharp).
and the short answer is that I don't really know how we got here.
... but I do know that time has helped.
I do know that friends and family have helped.
I do know that routine has helped.
and I do know that blogging has helped.
My blog helped (and continues to help) me pour out the hurt, anger, fear, rage, devastation, worry and horror of this journey.
...and *this* blog helped me see that I am not alone in these feelings.
Widow's Voice was one of the first blogs I read in The After.
I've cried and nodded along to more posts than I can count.
I've marvelled at how brave other widows and widowers are.
I've recognised similarities and differences between my journey and the varying journeys we are all on (for our spouses were unique ... as we are ... so no two of us are on the exact same path).
I've laughed at the dark humour.
I've rejoiced at the finding of new love, but seen that it's not a magic bullet that takes away this pain.
But most of all, I've realised that
I
Am
Not
Alone.
...and nor are you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Was just being thankful for you this morning (in a myers briggs way), and here you are with a you are not alone post.
ReplyDeleteAnd, crazy isn't it - I went back and reread through my blog a few weeks ago, crying/wondering that I actually lived that.
Crazy, your words are mine this morning! My daughter turned 11 this week, and birthdays are so tough without her dad (this was her third 'without Dad' birthday). And yet, we keep going, doing, creating this new life. Reading this blog has been part of the journey, thanks Amanda. Thanks all of you bloggers and readers.
ReplyDeleteThank you Amanda for being willing to take the extra step of sharing your journey here. Your courage and honesty prove to other widowed people exactly what you first discovered here, that knowing you are not alone helps too.
ReplyDeletexo M
Beautifully expressed.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Amanda. Welcome!
ReplyDeleteDitto!
ReplyDeleteAlthough I started a blog when Dave was first diagnosed, I found that I couldn't bring myself to carry on with it after he died. We started it mainly to keep friends and family in the loop of how things were going so we didn't have to keep repeating things over and over and over. I was amazed at how many people read it, and Dave seemed to like it. But I find it oh so personal and didn't want to share my pain and vulnerability with everybody after he died.
ReplyDeleteSo, I began journaling the old-fashioned way a month after he died. With a pen and paper. It's been 17 months now and I've only gone back and read a few pages recently. I don't enjoy it. It was extremely helpful at the time but I don't feel like reliving it.
Thank you all, for your continued courage to keep on blogging and baring you souls for public viewing.
I just started my blog and hopefully one day I can read my old writings and say to myself..
ReplyDelete"See.. It does get better"
Reading some the blogs on this site are inspirational and sometimes painful.
Right now now I'm just living day to day trying to survive without my baby.
Thank you for helping me to understand why I keep blogging, my wife died in May after 40 years together... and though the tears flow every single day as I sit down to write, somehow fitting a few words together helps me to make sense of it all.
ReplyDelete