Take time out

Self-care can be taking the time to enjoy the light and scent of a beautiful candle

This week I started out wanting to write about how difficult it's been facing the onslaught of traditional and social media commentary on Robin Williams' death, from the point of view of a suicide widow.

I wanted to talk about how it felt to read the ignorant, misinformed and hurtful remarks about suicide being 'selfish' and 'a choice' or 'the cowards way out'.

I wanted to talk about how my battered and bruised heart broke, again, for his family. And the personal triggers that have been set off, taking me right back to that day I lost my love to the demon disease depression.

But I'm exhausted from the relentless onslaught of information.  It's like every day there's another new angle the media has found to explore. The thousands of words that I've read about him began to swirl around and around me to the point where it's just become white noise. It started getting hard to breathe.

So instead, I'm choosing to remove myself from that space and talk about 'self-care'. Because when my energy levels start to drop and my anxiety begins to rise, I know it's time for me to wind things back a couple of notches and give myself room to breath again.

Self-care doesn't come easy to me. I'm not great at being assertive and am a 'pleaser' in the sense where I'll put myself out rather risk making someone else uncomfortable. Not with family of course, growing up I had no qualms in hogging the biggest piece of cake or disappearing after dinner when it came time to do the dishes. However when it comes to work or social situations, I seem to be forever worried about disappointing people or being seen as self-seeking or high-maintenance.

Luckily, I’ve had a wonderful counselor who helped me understand the difference between being ‘selfish’ and ‘self-care’ and with her help, I’ve learnt to identify when I need to say no or pull back; and how to let go of the guilt I’d usually associate with this.

I’m now actually really good at it.  I’ve developed an internal monologue that goes something like ‘Right, how are we holding up?  Have we got this?  Can I push on a bit longer or is it time to take a break? Yeah, feeling a bit fragile to be honest.  Ok, time to pull back.” 

Sometimes it feels like I’m a little character in a video game, running around collecting coins and fighting monsters and bouncing from level to level, and then suddenly I remember I’ve forgotten to collect those nourishing ‘food’ energy tokens.  Something red starts flashing in the corner of the screen and ominous tones start beeping at me, letting my know my vitality levels are dramatically low – if I don’t stop fighting the dragons and make ‘self-care’ my priority, it will soon be Game Over and I'll be back at the start.

So for me, self-care can be taking a half-hour break from work to walk through the nearby botanical garden or shouting myself to a 20-minute shoulder massage or pedicure.  It might be turning my phone and lap top off for the night to curl up on the lounge with a cup of tea, a packet of chocolate biscuits and some trashy reality tv (hello Real Housewives!).  Or it might be running a hot bath, lighting a candle and soaking in the silence. 

It's also about knowing when I'm reaching my limits in regards to my triggers.  There are days where I can talk openly about what happened to Dan.  I can speak up about his experience with depression and help others understand some of the challenges that he faced, doing my bit to raise awareness and fight the persistent stigmas.  However some days it can be too much.  Too heavy.  Too personal and too heartbreaking.  So it's also about knowing when I have to put my own wellbeing first, identifying the times when I'm nearing exhaustion and working out how to protect that part of me that is still grieving his loss. 

Yoga and meditation has been a wonderful source of self-care for me.  This week, when I started feeling dangerously low, I spent 75 minutes laying on a mat, listening to the calming voice of my yoga instructor reminding me not to let the past pull me back or the future pull me forward, but to live in the moment and quieten my mind.

For some of my widow friends, self-care can be cooking, reading, doing craft, going for a run or gardening. Basically anything that helps shut the noise of the world out, even for 15 minutes. 

Whatever it may be for you, I hope you too can find your place of peace and learn to check in there regularly.  After all, we are unable to grow and blossom without nourishment.

Running on empty

Do you know that saying 'running on the smell of an oily rag'? Maybe it's an Australian thing, but it's the best description I can think of to explain how I'm feeling today.  I'm exhausted and my tank is low. My 'refuel' light is flashing and I need to pull up and refuel.

So, I'm trying to lay low this weekend and as much as I want to pour my heart out here and write about this past week, the first anniversary of Dan's funeral and what it's been like to creep into my second year, I just don't have the energy to scrape it together. I'm sorry, I take my commitment to Widow's Voice very seriously and I promise I'll be back next week, pushing the limits of my word count.

In the mean time I thought I'd share an extract from my personal blog that still applies to how I feel today. Thank you for checking in and remember - it's ok to put your own needs first sometimes, in fact, it's essential. I know you guys get it. 

"Most days I don't really think about HOW my husband died anymore. The shock of his suicide has eased and now my pain is mainly focused around the loss of him, how much I miss him and my sadness for the life we should be living.

There are still days, however, where it creeps in to my mind or I find myself needed to share my story and as I get to 'that' bit... the uneasiness in my stomach grows again.

This morning I saw a health professional and as we discussed the stress I've been under due to my personal circumstances, it became relevant to explain the trauma around his death.

After all this time, I still stumble with the details and struggle to deliver it gracefully. 

It seems so inadequate to just say 'he took his own life'. 

He deserves more than this, he was so much more than 'just' a victim of suicide and I feel compelled to try and explain his actions. 

The most adequate explanation (short of spending a good 20 minutes going through what a brilliant, good-hearted, thoughtful, caring man he was) seems to be along the lines of: 'he had depression, we had no idea how badly... His symptoms were predominantly memory loss and inability to focus, so he became convinced he was developing dementia and, during a suspected psychotic episode, took his life to save us from having to care for him.'

But the truth is, this is merely the picture I ended up with from the prices of the puzzle that I could pull together. Pieces like: the beautiful, heart-felt note he left me; conversations we had about how scared he was by his symptoms, as well as those he had with his doctor; the assumption by police that his death was not planned or pre-meditated, but carried out in a state of detachment; and the undeniable fact that he adored me, and would never have wanted to willingly cause me this pain.

However I will never truly know what happened in his head that day. There will always be questions that creep in when I let my guard down. I will never fully understand the 'why's, no matter how much I try to help others understand and accept.

Maybe the best I can hope for is to find peace in knowing I will never know, and one day I won't need to ask the questions anymore."

Looking after me.

There's someone I've been neglecting for the past 3.5 years. 
She is strong, but has infrequent, spectacular meltdowns due to the ....(there is no word to describe this but widows know the feeling) .... of it all. 
She loves hard, but falls hard. 
She picks herself back up again, dusts herself off and keeps going. 
She takes every sling and arrow personally .... yet never backs away from fighting for something she believes in.
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School has been out for a week and there are still a few days of holidays to go before we head into the insane final term of the year.  Its a reporting term.  With a fete thrown in for good measure.  I know I will need something extra to get myself through to December....

So this week, I have been looking after me.

I've been eating right and walking lots. 
I've been indulging my passion for photography. 
I've been dog sitting and remember what fun it is to have a dog.
I bought myself the first non-work clothes I've had in the past 3.5 years.
I've listened to music I like .. Ed Sheeran, Passenger, Kate Miller- Heidke.....
I've read books and watched movies.
I decided that I can no longer cope with all of the housework and have just hired a cleaning lady to help me once a fortnight (oh the luxury!).

I've even found time to go out for a meal with a friend without the children.

Maybe its Spring talking, but life feels full of possibilities. 

and that feeling is amazing.

I know that I am riding the crest of a wave, but maybe I can surf this one for a little while longer and the next trough won't be so deep.