So last week I put it out there that I’d been feeling happy and ‘doing ok’. I seriously didn’t realise how scary that would feel, as if I was tempting the universe. As the weekend came and went, I found myself full of anticipation and it took a while to work out what I was waiting for. Then I realised, I was waiting for the crash.
I know it’s coming. It may not be today, or this week, or even for another couple of weeks, but I know for a fact that it will come again and I’ll feel foolish for my cockiness. I know this, because there’s a proven track record. The grief always seems to build and build and then surge into a wave that drags me under again. Sometimes it’s dramatic and I find myself mid-meltdown in public, scrambling for a safe place to take cover while I try to keep my head above the tidal wave. Other times it sneaks up on my when I’m not looking – I’ll wake up one morning and it’s back, just smothering me in its heavy cloak of misery.
Gee, what a pessimist, huh!? Here I am feeling pretty good, but rather than just soaking it up, I’m fighting this internal dialogue: ‘Hey lady, who do you think you are! Don’t you remember that your husband died!? HELLOOOOO!! Who are you kidding, pretending that you’re not only coping – but actually finding some enjoyment in this world? Pfft, good luck with that, enjoy your DENIAL, fool!’ Yeah, my niggling negative voice is harsh.
There it is… denial. That’s what I’m worried about. Am I really doing ok at the moment or am I just in a temporary state of denial where I’m subconsciously pretending that Dan isn’t really dead, he’s just gone away for a while. Is it possible that I’ve just blocked out the horror of his suicide because it’s just too painful to deal with? Maybe I’m not actually taking steps forward by feeling happy in my life, but rather, I’m regressing into a shock-like state where my brain is just having a holiday from the trauma?
How exhausting it is to be constantly questioning and judging myself. When did I lost my confidence in my ability to know my own heart? Why can't I just trust myself? I think a big part of it is that I didn’t see Dan’s death coming. I was so happy in my newly-wed glow, so secure in our love, so excited for our future together, so confident that Dan’s treatment was on the right track, so sure that he’d talk to me if he didn’t feel ok. Now I look at that person and just think – you were so naive. It’s always there – I missed the signs, I let him down, I failed him. Will I ever trust myself again? Will I ever let myself off the hook for not seeing how much he was struggling
I really hope so. I know it’s not my fault and I didn’t cause his death, but I can’t imagine ever not wishing that I’d been able to save him. I will miss him forever.
Hi Rebecca... you and your feelings are not alone. I lost my husband to suicide in May of 2011. I too remember going through periods of feeling good, even happy in my new life. I feelings of guilt would come just as you described. As time passed, I realized that those strong emotions/breakdowns would come and weirdly enough, they helped me to feel less guilty each time I was back in that happy state. It's been 40 months now and I don't go through that process anymore. With time, for me, came a truer sense of acceptance and forgiveness (for him and myself) and now I no longer feel guilty about my happiness. I miss him and will always love him, and I see things differently now because of what I've been through. I can't help now but to appreciate and love life... Guilt free. I hope you find that one day very soon too!
ReplyDeleteAmaryllis, thank you for your comment. I'm sorry for your loss, however it's comforting to know that you've also experienced this strange guilt and that it's eased for you. I'm so glad to hear that you're in a good place. take care.
DeleteI am so sorry for your loss. Dan looks like a sweet man and I love this picture. It's been 10 months since my husband died and I just keep feeling "ok, that's long enough to not have seen you, times up, come home NOW". Knowing it will only get longer and longer and this missing him part is not going away.
ReplyDeleteThank you, I love this picture too. Whenever I get the urge to hug him I look at this and feel comforted that he knew he was adored. I know that feeling of 'this is long enough, you can come back now thanks!'. Sometimes when I'm having a big cry and letting it all out I hear myself begging him to come home, even though i know it's impossible. I was scared to reach the one-year mark because then it would have been a whole year since I'd seen him and I couldn't bear that thought, but time is a strange thing... it's sad that it's been so long, but it's also slowly getting easier too, which is a relief.
DeleteMy oldest son was killed 4 years ago. I've learned to take those good days as a gift, and just roll with the bad days. No guilt needed either way.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry for your loss of your son, you're right - we need to take it as it comes.
DeleteHello Rebecca. I was so happy to read your post, although wow - I am sooooooo sorry for your loss. I truly do not mean that I am happy to read it, just so glad I am not alone in my feelings. My husband took his own life 6 weeks ago. I've had moments where I am doing so okay, I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. Of course, sometimes things happen that remind me that I am still heavily grieving. For example, this past week was my first week back at work. I was feeling really good, almost normal. I even wondered how can I be feeling this good? By the end of the week, my fatigue took over. The thought of throwing my husband's took brush away made me a basket case once again. But 5 minutes later, I was fine. Grief is weird and definitely like swimming in an ocean.
ReplyDeleteI think we widows need to be nice to ourselves. Sometimes, I think we feel guilty for feeling good because we are often told that is not how it is supposed to be. We compare our grief to others and think we are somehow not fully functioning properly if we are not crying all the time. Well, that is silly. Who wants to feel bad ALL THE TIME? Sometimes, I need a break from it, and especially for my children. I also know that I loved my husband dearly and his loss is always felt. I often wonder what this will be like for me in year, two years, five years?
Hugs to you.
Angelique, I'm so sorry to hear about your husband, six weeks - wow, I was still in a total daze at that stage. I returned to work at week four and was lucky to have a very patient, understanding employer. At that early stage everything was so scary and foreign and I had to take it hour-by-hour, as thinking past a full day seemed overwhelming. There is a good chance that you might still in shock, and those moments of feeling 'normal' are your brains way of letting you rest between bouts of disbelief and intense pain. It can also be a way of your body letting you cope and get things done, like caring for your children. Grief is definitely weird and complicated and confusing. I'm glad you found this blog and Soaring Spirits. Be gentle with yourself and rest as much as you can. It is a real roller coaster and a very long road to walk, but you're not alone. Thank you for commenting and reaching out xo
DeleteI am so sorry for your loss Rebecca and I wish you peace for each day and hope for tomorrow. You have described the grief crash so well and I can relate to your sentiments. Though our circumstances of loss differ, we are both missing the love of our life. I keep waiting for the feeling of being punched in the gut to go away but it never really does, always lurking in the background of my days and nights. We cannot change our circumstances no matter how we would wish it so, but may we be able to face each day with courage and the belief that our existence can be meaningful and full of hope and love to share with those we encounter every day.
ReplyDeleteI was on a non widow blog the other day and suicide was discussed. After reading your posts and Melinda's I feel I have a better understanding of the subject and when I read what they said I had to comment because I felt their opinions were lacking. It must be so hard to live with something so misunderstood. It's bad enough how being widowed is misunderstood but you have the addition of the pain of how it happened. You look beautiful in your photo above and you both look so happy. Writing your story while your grief is so fresh helps people and I hope you are proud of what you are doing because you should be. I wish you peace and happiness, though I know all to well that takes time(I am still looking for it...)
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