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I've been scary sad in the past few weeks. The kind of sad that feels impossible to withstand for one more second, that tears through me and sounds more like a scream than a sob, that makes me afraid to be alone, that makes me want to give up.
I think I've just felt too much pain to keep up the charade anymore. It wasn't that recent events were that awful (nothing can come close to Dave dying). It was that I hadn't had enough in reserves to withstand ONE MORE loss.
It's sent me back to the same symptoms I experienced in the month or two after Dave died. Tremors, generalized fears, chaotic mind, trouble reading, trouble sitting still, trouble eating, sleeping and getting through the day without crying, giant memory lapses. I feel trapped, desperate for comfort and not sure what would comfort me short of Dave returning from the dead.
I think I am simply terrified of being alone. The idea of living the rest of my life in my home, alone, freaks me out. I have an incredible network of loving, funny and intelligent friends. I have the time and space and money to explore my passions and discover a new path for my life that might make me happy. I have my health (when I'm not suffering from trauma-related symptoms), I have so much. Somehow, though, the one thing I can't have, has become the one thing I've decided I don't want to live without.
But I don't get to live with it now. Thinking that I might never have companionship like that again makes me miserable, so I try not to get too attached to that particular worry. I'd rather spend energy thinking that there's a great chance I will have that again or just attempt to direct my energies toward self care and let everything else fall into place as it will.
But what if a partner is not the answer? What if Dave's death cracked me open to uncover the real truth which is that I never felt good enough on my own and needed others' love and approval to feel worthy? What if I have to learn for the first time, how to live without it while deciding I'm good enough, regardless? If that's so, how the hell do I do that? Especially when the status of a single woman over 35 in this society is that of a spinster, a crazy cat lady or at the very least, is to be slightly pitied? Or when every time I see a smiling couple and their kids strolling through the park, I feel my heart spasm in jealousy? When I'm suddenly, for the first time since before I met Dave, afraid to be alone? Or when I most need the particular comfort you can only get from a loving spouse at the exact time in my life when I don't have one?
Okay. So I do it again. I get my feet under me again and regain my strength. I heal enough to get to the point where I feel a tiny spark of hope for the next day. I turn to my loved ones for as much comfort as I can find. I try to find comfort in helping others. I distract myself, stay busy, take baths, get massages, see my therapist, make gratitude lists, write, treat myself gently, heal, heal, heal.
I've done it before, I can do it again. It only feels like I'll never be happy again. It only seems like life isn't worth living if I'm alone, but it's a lie. Life is worth living simply because it is and there's only one chance at it. Right? Remind me until I can believe it again, myself. Please.
Cassie, you verbalized everything I feel and I'm living. It's been 28 months and I still feel every emotion and thought you just stated. Where do I go from here? When do I stop begging my husband to come back somehow? How do I accept living alone at this stage in my life when my grown daughters have families and lives of their own? How do I start over in my 60's? How do I feel happy again? When do I stop feeling like a child crying out in the dark? How do I start making new friends after our couple friends disappeared? How do I find hope? How do I accept being alone without my husband until I join him? Will the pain in my heart ever heal?
ReplyDeleteYes, as long as we are living, there is always hope for the future. One thing that I remind myself of when I'm feeling like you are, and that I always try to tell new widows, is "You won't always feel the way you do now." Be gentle with yourself, you deserve it.
ReplyDeleteCassie, I have been feeeling SO MUCH like this lately as well. Again with the intense sadness and pain. I keep sighing to myself "THIS again? Really?" So, I will remind you, if you remind me. xoox...
ReplyDeleteCassie, life is worth living. We are all here to remind each other. I know that my husband's birthday and the holidays are coming soon so I like you have made a conscious decision to be gentle to myself so when the sad days hit maybe they will be softer and the come back from them we be quicker.
ReplyDeleteHang in there.
Maria O.
So much familiar in what you write. Its been 32 months and just this past Saturday, I found myself crying out, "I can't believe I am alone." Life is so hard. I can say there are some pleasant moments now. Brief, but pleasant. Losing a spouse affects every single area of life. So hard to start all over, esp when you don't want to.
ReplyDeleteEven with testing the waters in a new, second first new relationship, that too is hard. Delightful at times. But hard as we each traverse these uncharted waters we never thought we'd be swimming. Hard as we both grieve our own loss and that of each others - we feel the others grief deeply; hard as I struggle to slow down, get to know him, when wanting to have known him 30 years and have cut through all this crap of a new relationship; and slow down? Slow down when all I want to do is not be alone, do life with someone, and be able to reach out in the night in the bed next to me to have someone there - yes, slow down - not wanted but necessary. Very hard. Though not much conscious "comparing" going on, we both struggle with wanting the other to know what we are thinking, like our spouse did, and relating, though trying not to, as if we were a married couple; it's in many ways easy to fall into that. Yes, widowed relationships are complicated. And while this has added many bright spots to my life, it also consumes a ton of energy, and honestly, I still miss my Marty throughout all my days. Both my new friend and I agree that having been best friends with someone for 30 years, the reality is that we will always miss them, regardless if this relationship works out for us, or if we are with someone else. There will always be a pain and a loss and times when our dead spouse is all we want. They have our 30 year history!!!!
I too, have hope. I can now see that my grief is different than it was 2 years ago. My grief is different than it was 1 year ago. And while my friend has only been my friend for 6 months, my grief is different than it was 6 months ago. I continue to move forward, honoring the past and moving into the future - not that I want to, or know how to, but the calendar pages keep turning, so I guess I must to. That's hope.
I can so relate to this. I cannot believe I'm alone, without my best friend, and if I don't want to be along, I have to open up enough to meet someone else. And I'm not sure I want to do that... but I don't want to be alone either. Walking in circles.... that's what I feel like!
ReplyDeleteits been a year the twentieth and I feel the same way!
DeleteI m just so lost. I cant believe that the grass is still growing the sun is still shining and hes not here!
Deleteoh my heart hurts for you. I can so remember when I noticed that the sun was still shining! And my friends were all sending me notes "hope your'e enjoying the sunshine today" and all I wanted to do was close the blinds and shut out the brightness and the birds singing. It hurt my eyes and ears. You are still in early grief, really early. This process takes WAY longer than I ever imagined. But why would it not? We lost not only our wonderful spouses, we lost our best friends who had been there day in and day out for years upon years. So so hard. What I know now (31 months) is that we do adapt - and I absolutely HATE to say that, never thought I would say it, but the truth is - though I hate coming home to an empty house night after night, I no longer cry as I drive there, I have become acclimated to it - I have become the best facer of truths. The truth is I am alone and the house is empty. I don't like it. Might not ever, but it is the truth. I face my grief head on over and over. I feel it. I bear it. Don't rush yourself. A year is a short time. But with all the pain involved, its easy to understand why we'd like things to get better soon. Grief is a beast with a mind of it's own. Hang on, stand firm. One day at a time, sometimes one minute at a time. It's not easy.
DeleteSo true. I don't like it, but it's the truth and I just keep facing the truth, over and over. It seems like it's too hard and that it takes too long, and it is. And it does. But the only way out is through (sorry for the cliche) and it takes more perseverance than I thought possible. I keep thinking that after this experience I'm simply a warrior, because it's the hardest thing I've ever done. It's making me crazy strong to survive this. I hope.
Deleteterrified of being alone - YES YES YES. I have been feeling the same way. 20 months and all i want is for him to come back. The pain just doesn't go AWAY. I go to the river hoping to find a little piece of the happiness we had there and just can't find it. Decided after last years first holidays with son his girlfriend now financee and her family that I can't and WILL NOT do it again. I decided to go on a cruise with a widow friend for the week of Thanksgiving out of Tampa. People ask where is it going - I don't know nor do I care it is just not staying home. Also planning on going to New York for Christmas. Never been and Jim and I always wanted to go and see the lights, music and a show. So I will go by myself as I continue to learn how to do things on my own. I just keep moving. But, I do have days I ask why???
ReplyDeleteNew York for Christmas. What an amazing idea. Sad to have to go alone, but also so bad-ass of you to do it.
DeleteCassie, this is your reminder...keep on keeping on. That's all any of us can do. Some days it doesn't feel like it's worth it, but what would your Dave say to that? I keep reminding myself that nothing stays the same. My whole world has/is changing...from housing and job and retirement plans and summer cottage on the lake and on and on it goes. I'm learning to accept that this is the way it is; no, I don't like it one bit, but he's not here, none of those things will be as they were.
ReplyDeleteI'm ahead of you, and those symptoms come and go still for me too. I've realized I'm a different person than I was when he was here, and am trying to accept that person as she is each and every day. Hoping that as time marches on, I will too, and someday I will like the person I have become. Don't want to be alone either, but I'm not focusing on finding someone now, hoping that it will happen when I least expect it. Take care of yourself, and as others have said, be gentle.
Once I read that when you feel like you are at the end of it all, that you cannot go on any more with the pain of your loss, try to give it 3 more months and then see how you feel. Just 3 more months. I have used this formula many times during my tenure as a widow. It helps me to cope. I guess it gives me a goal to achieve.
ReplyDeleteAnd if 3 months is too long to think about, give it one month or one week or one day. Sleep on it.
DeleteIt has only been 6 weeks for me. The pain is unbearable, but the one thing I do know, is that I want to be happy again, and I need to be happy again. If I cannot be happy with myself, like I was before, my 24 years with him, then I have nothing to live for. I still want to do things, and live my life, but finding that path without my soulmate seems impossible at times. It seems like time stands still for me, as everyone around me keeps living. All I have is hope, that days will be better, and I will learn to live a life without him. Even if my best and happiest days are behind me, I must find a way to enjoy the little things, the things I missed before...
ReplyDeleteYes. That IS what it feels like. Time stands still while everyone else keeps living.
DeleteIt's been 33 months for me and i too feel that "scary sadness". I still cry everyday ,can't concentrate ,can't focus and still have trouble sleeping. Will this ever stop?. Sometimes I think it would be great to have a new relationship,someone to have fun with, but after being married for 40 years (and 2 days) I know I will never have that same familiarity again. And wondering if I have the energy or if I really want to bothered.with a new relationship. There's always hope I guess.
ReplyDeleteSorry anonymous. 6 weeks out is very hard, you haven't had time to have days in between cry's. You are just going through the motions. Just take one day at a time. Don't worry about tomorrow, just focus on today. Tomorrow will come and you then will be ready for it tomorrow. I don't know who you are or where you are but if I could I would reach out and give you a great big hug. Sometimes lighting a candle makes me feel close to Jim, you might want to try it. Take Care.
ReplyDeleteI have never commented on one of these blogs before I have visited a few to try to get alittle inspiration maybe some advise on coping and how help my kids cope with this it will be 6 months that I lost my husband very sudden one day here next day gone my kids are 19-22 and 24. Not.babies but these are pretty hard yrs for them and me kinda freaks me out hearing things aren't going to get any better when I read some of these blogs I scares me death am I always going to have this emptiness??? I hope in time it can be filled with something other than this awful pain I see in my kids eyes and I know I have I want them to live and laugh and not feel guilty
ReplyDeleteBe encouraged. Things WILL get better! My kids were 31, 29 and 26 when my husband died suddenly, like yours, now here, now not. Sudden death is so, so hard! Time does not heal all wounds. And it is hard as a widow to see that time marches on. At six months post loss, I was functioning which meant showing up at things, but my heart was a million miles away. That lasted a long time. I can't even tell you when or how things began to shift, but they did. It's still not easy. I am still lonely. I still never wanted this. But my choice is to tie up my shoelaces each day and start walking (or not) and I have done that. Sometimes sideways, sometimes backwards, and sometimes standing still. But nonetheless. I hate cliches, but one statement that helped me (and still does on some days) is "Just do the next thing." Life as a widow is so hard. It is hard to maintain balance when I have lost my "balancer". And it is hard to now be the manager of it all. I still feel that I cannot do that. And at this point, I have found some order, but it takes only the smallest, trivial thing to upset the apple cart and find myself in a puddle of tears.
DeleteThough my kids are older and were out of the house living their own lives, we decided early on that they needed to continue to do that. That was a hard decision for me to verbalize bc I so badly wanted to say, "live here, move in here, please DON'T LEAVE ME." But I could not. They needed to keep on being self sufficient individuals like their dad and I taught them.
One rock in my road around the two year mark was the realization that my kids were moving forward - my oldest got engaged, my middle child had a baby and my youngest rented an apartment across the US from where we lived :/ all in the same year (2013). Sure signs that they were getting healthy. But in my heart I heard myself ask, "they all are moving forward into really good things, what about me?" So much of my life was and is the same day after day after day, esp in terms of positives.
But it does get better. I used to feel that my heart had a knife in it and from time to time it heated up and the pain was searing. Now I just feel the knife and it is a dull ache. That goes back to the fact that we adapt, unfortunately, or maybe not. If you don't adapt, you get stuck. I have refused to sink. And from time to time that means I sit in a life boat and float, but no matter. One day, one minute at a time, I will get to where I'm supposed to be, regardless of how long it takes me. Hold fast.
Things will get better. I think what's happening for me is that his death uncovered a lifetime of stuff to work on. When he was alive I didn't really have to confront it. Add that to the fact that I tried to be in a relationship again, and what really happened was that I just got overwhelmed. I still hear things from others ahead of me that scares me. That they still have rough bouts and cry and struggle. I also hear great things. And I SEE the proof that those of us who've lost our spouse not only go on, but go on to be amazing. It's just work. It takes work. It's up and down, but the downs don't last nearly as long and I can better feel the ups now. On a line graph, the line would be steadily going up over time, but if you look closely the line is full of peaks and valleys. You'll do this.
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