Saturday, July 26, 2014

A terrible day

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Thursday marked the one-year anniversary of my husband’s suicide, and the day my world fell apart.  I can’t believe I’ve survived twelve months, it feels like such an unreasonably long time.  I hate even saying it out loud.  One year.  I don’t feel ready to be in my second year of grieving, it’s still too soon, too raw, too unbelievable. 

I can no longer think ‘this time last year we were…’ I can no longer tell people he died ‘recently’ or ‘a few months ago’. 

I know that in widow-terms I’m still in my early days of grieving, but to the rest of the world, it’s been a long time now.  I know people will start or have started forming certain expectations on where I should be, how I should be behaving.  I also know I need to ignore these people and listen to my heart, but I can’t help wanting the world to slow down – stop even.  To just wait until I can catch a breath and pull myself together again.

I don’t think I was fully prepared for how much the anniversary would hurt.  Obviously being on holidays overseas was a big distraction but in hindsight, timing it so that I got back to Australia the day before probably wasn’t the best decision (although, because my trip revolved around the dates of Camp Widow West, I was working within certain limits). 

Everyone says the lead up is the worst, and with our wedding anniversary and his birthday, it certainly felt that way. But with his death anniversary, it was very different.  The day kind of snuck up on me, I wasn’t prepared.  Not that I know what ‘prepared’ even looks like. 

With his birthday in March and our wedding anniversary in June I was somehow able to find positive things to focus on that day, to carry me through the pain.  On his birthday I was grateful for the amazing life he’d lived.  I spent the day with his friends and family, remembering good times, crying together, and trying to celebrate this wonderful man who was loved by so many.  On our wedding anniversary I was able to be thankful for the love we shared and cloaked myself with that.  I felt overwhelmed with gratitude that I met Dan, that I spent almost two years with him and that he gave me the honour of calling myself his wife. 

However there was nothing to be positive about on his death anniversary.  It was just a horrible, sad, f*#ked up day.  Knowing now the turmoil he must have been in that morning when he kissed me goodbye and left for work, my heart breaks for him all over again. We know that his suicide wasn’t planned – it was spontaneous and triggered by a psychotic episode caused by a bad reaction to his anti-depressant medication, but thinking about how scared and lost he must have felt just destroys me. I couldn’t get the images out of my head of him driving to work that morning and turning the car in a different direction. 

Images of him writing me his heartfelt letter, trying to explain that he loved me and was sorry for the hurt that his death would cause, but that he was losing his mind and needed to make this sacrifice before it was too late and he became a constant burden on me and our families.  Images of his final moments.  Of his death.  Of his body being taken away.

It was a terrible day, and it has hit me hard.  I cried the entire anniversary and as I write this, two days later, I am still crying, feeling broken and empty.

I guess there might be one thing to be grateful for right now though.  At least now that I’ve been in this place for a year, I know how to get through these dark, painful lows.  I know how to practice self-care, mindfulness and listen to my body when it tells me I need to slow down and rest.  I am laying low and being gentle with myself.  I’m gathering my people around me and letting them protect me and carry me.  I have received countless messages, phone calls and deliveries of flowers this week.  I know I am loved by many, and these people are keeping Dan and I in their thoughts and prayers. I know I’m not alone.  I will survive this and smile again, but today it is ok to cry. It’s a shitty day.

16 comments:

  1. I am so sorry for your loss. Over and over again...

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    1. Hello, I understand about that awful terrible.. Day.. My husbands accident was on a beautiful Thursday summer night... A Thursday I will never forget.

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  2. "but to the rest of the world, it’s been a long time now" is so true. I think after 3 months, many of the people I knew had already moved on.

    Wishing you Patience and Courage. Patience with others who want to help but don't know how and with yourself because healing takes time. And Courage to make it through the next day, hour, or even minute.

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    1. Thank you Paul. Watching my family battle with wanting to help me but not knowing how has been really hard. I can't imagine what they too must be going through, I know it hurts them so much to see me like this. I am lucky to have a strong (and patient) support network - I hope you do too. Thank you again for commenting, it's so nice to know we're not alone.

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  3. Rebecca my heart aches for you as i know the pain you are walking through. I agree with you that there are wonderful things to remember and celebrate for your wedding anniversary and his birthday. it has been three years and i still hate to see the anniversary date on the calendar; I agree it is such an f*K up day and nothing makes it any better. I try to focus on the good days and make a plan to just survive "the day" because it is not a day that I can ever associate with good memories. I trust that you can look forward to more good memories. It doesn't change the loss, but it does help to live with it. Like you I will always be thankful that my Jeff chose me to be his wife. In my heart he will always be my husband. I wish you blessing and peace for this part of the journey.
    SJK

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    1. Thank you for your comment SJK, I'm glad you're able to try and focus on the good days - I know it's not always that easy. Best wishes to you x

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  5. Take as long as you need to grieve, Rebecca. Those around me keep saying "isn't it long enough? Don't you want to join the living and move on?" Of course we do, but the heart needs to repair itself, and that time is different for all of us. I'm into the fourth year, some days it still feels so fresh, especially when he just missed our daughters wedding. Big trigger. Yes, it is ok to cry. Take care.

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  6. oh, Rebecca,

    I am so very sorry for all the devastation and sorrow that is so heart-wrenching, a weight that is so heavy, and a reality that seems so surreal. do all you are able to fortify yourself and be able to ignore expectations of others. you have enough to deal with your own expectations as you grieve and re-live that awful day, and the terrible loss of your Darling Dan. I wish you respite during the in between times of profound and agonizing pain, I wish you the continued love and support of those dearest to you to keep you surrounded and protected. I am so glad you are able to be good to yourself, take care of yourself, being mindful and gentle, and that you know you are not alone.

    much love and many warm hugs to you,

    Karen xoxo

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    1. Karen, I love your thoughtful comments, thank you for your kind words and support.

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  7. I'm sorry for your loss. For me, the second year was filled with looking back at both the prior year of "firsts" and the year before that. It wasn't until the third year that the "new normal" started to feel normal.
    I agree that we need the support of other widows because people who haven't experienced it can't possibly understand or even relate to how differently time goes by during active grieving.

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  8. Hello, just read everyone's post..everything so true....still trying to figure it all out too..it is what is.. I can't change any of past..I guess what I truly on my heart an soul feel now is,,,, oh so this is what it's like to be a grown up??? The adult world..wow.. Why didn't at least one person come to me when I first started out and say to me , oh u r gonna have pain, real pain, pain like u never knew.. Pain that there is no cure for.. Not a broken heart... They can be mended... But a shattered heart beyond repair...all because we Love...seems so unfair..but my Faith kicked back in, and said to me in the end I'm here, that's all that matters because it will b perfection in heaven.. My only Peace abt my tragedy..

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