Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Idle Thoughts as I Approach 2 Years~

I'm in total disbelief not only that Chuck has been dead for 2 years but that I'm still alive.  How is it that I haven't died of a broken heart?

I'm going to counseling.  Dr. Shima is going to do EMDR and aural acupuncture, both to assist in (hopefully) dispersing the block between my emotions and intellect.  That block, she surmises, is what keeps me from feeling connection of any sort to him.  It keeps me feeling disconnected to the world at large and keeps me from feeling connected even to myself.

She used the word trauma with me.  Not in a PTSD way and not so much in relation to the manner in which he died but having to do with the fact that he and I shared an unusually close and loving relationship and the very fact of living without him is traumatic for me.  The price of deep love....

St John's Wort, Ignatia Amara, Star of Bethlehem, Rescue Remedy, Stress Away oil, Warrior Training Exercise program 3x/week.  Remedies, all, to help me move this fucking grief.

Twice lately, I've had an experience that I call a holographic experience, in which I see a couple holding hands, or something that reminds me of a place where Chuck and I were, or something we did, and I suddenly see him, if that's the correct way to describe it.  Just bam! there he is and then bam! again, there he isn't.  I recognize the clothing he's wearing when this happens.

I had a dream the other night, not with Chuck in it, really (I've had no dreams of him since he died), but one in which I imagined that he was sitting next to me and I put my head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent and repeatedly said to myself in the dream I wish this was real I wish this was real.

This world without him is so unreal to me.

I no longer know how to describe this world of his absence.  Is there really any way for any of us to describe the new world we live in without that one person who loved us so deeply and whom we loved so deeply in return?

My final realization is; you know what?  It doesn't matter how desperate I might feel to see him again, how deep my grief, how lonely my days and just doesn't matter because all those feelings aren't going to change the devastating reality and I need to just suck it up, like everyone else has done since time began.

Knowing that doesn't make it any easier.

A huge part of my heart is gone.


  1. Not been back here for about a year but just passed the 2 years of my wife of 51 years. Sure you know we all face these things in different ways and hope you find the key to enjoy what time is left. i have 3 boys 6 grandkids and almost 2 great grands. Talk with them often and try to travel but better with 2 of course. It just hit me last month taking care of my sisters dog in Ca. that it is time to stop the lonelyness. So if you can make a goal maybe this is your year to do the same. My Best Wishes go out to you.

  2. I wonder how I have managed to muddle along for 5 years, too. I am a different person than I was in the before life, some days I don't even recognize me. As a friend remarked, "we need to put on our big girl panties ", like everyone else has. I'm not so sure I want to anymore.

  3. So true, Alison, that no matter what our feelings are, how lonely, how much we want them back, those feelings won't change the reality we now have. You and I talked briefly at Camp Widow, and I appreciate your honesty in your writing. Sandi

  4. Surreal. Unbelievable. Unchangeable. Devastated.
    Not sure how to live this life either, Allison. All my joy is gone.
    Thoughts & prayers for peace and comfort to you & all of us. Jane

  5. Allison, you put into words what I can't... feeling the same at 11-1/2 months.. don't know how I will ever get through the rest of my life without him..

  6. Allison, I am at 39 months and somewhere along the way realized I would not die of a broken heart..... but learn to live with one everyday. That is the sorrow we carry always, but sometimes it is an easier burden than other times. Life is a gift that we continue to live for those who have passed.