The Seasons

September 26, 2011

The change of the seasons has always been something I have looked forward to and one of the reasons I loved living on the East Coast.  We had four full season, with distinct weather and foliage changes.  

Fall of course was a favorite.  The beautiful leaves, the crisp air, Halloween.  It is one of the reasons we decided to get married in October.  Now it just makes me sad.  But all of the seasons make me sad.  There are so many painful memories attached to them.  I had been hoping one of them might be easier than the others.  I think I was wrong.

Winter – our last full season together, where we got snowed in together for a week.  We had so much fun and it represents the happiest time of my life. Last winter was hard to get through, it was very lonely.

Spring – brings back Chris’s death.  He died in April, right as spring was in full bloom.  Easter was our last holiday together.

Summer – I thought would be the easiest, but this summer was so hard. My birthday is in the summer and it went downhill from there.  The long days searching for activities to fill it.  The nights not spent grilling, walking the neighborhood, and going to the pool with Chris were brutal.  Plus we had hoped to start a family by this summer. 

Fall – so I had been looking forward to fall as a  change and maybe a regaining of energy.  It hasn’t materialized yet.  But the sadness is here. The dread of having to go through our second wedding anniversary alone (I guess that is all I know since we never got an anniversary together) and the holidays and Chris’s birthday. 

I just feel like I can never get a break.  Is there a time of year or a type of weather that won’t be painful or sad?  I think maybe once I get to a point where memories of Chris aren’t painful and I am more at peace with being widowed rather than married with kids  I will get a break.  But when will that be? It has been almost a year and a half and the memories are as painful as ever.

The comfort of anonymity

September 22, 2011

Thank you for the comments after my post.  It really does help.   It is amazing how people you have never met, will likely never meet can give you the kind of comfort no one you know can give. It makes it easier to say things, to acknowledge the truth. To put it out on “paper”. That and therapy.   Going to a therapist once a week really helps.  I feel much better after my session last night.  The pain, anxiety, despair are all a little less so I can breathe easier.

So what do you do when you are feeling a little better?  I try to be productive and go through things.   Chris is was a packrat (still make the present tense slip) and it is taking a long time to go through his stuff.  I only really started in earnest this summer.  I have given away books, and sporting equipment.  Going through his stuff is awful.  It makes me determined to simplify my life and limit the amount of stuff I have so that when someone has to do this after I die (that is sad too, not knowing who will care about my stuff when I die as I “belong” to no one).  I have done a will and intend to set up an account sheet that will make it easy to deal with the finances. Knowing what it is like to have to clean up after a sudden death, I don’t want to leave a mess for others.

Morbid, yes.  Practical, yes.  One of the many new perspectives I have gained since Chris died. 



I think I need this blog again

September 21, 2011

So I went on hiatus.  Many people do for various reasons.  I felt back in the late spring that I needed a break; that writing on this blog was too painful for me. 

Now, 4-5 months later, I think not writing on this blog is painful for me.  I am not sure what changed or when it changed.

So hello again.

I have had a terrible week.  One of the worst in a while and I feel fairly alone.  Mostly in the sense of being able to express where I am and how I am doing.  Part of it is my fault.  I am not good with spoken words.  I really can’t get out what I am feeling. I have always been better on “paper”.  Where I can think and switch and replace until I feel like what I want I have down is what I mean.  No one tries to add to it and I don’t alter it for the audience.  It is purely me.

It has also been made clear to me recently, that many can no longer deal with my pain.  It is very disheartening because I try very hard to keep the worst of it to myself and God.  I don’t complain and whine and cry for hours. I generally try to focus my time with people on that time, what we are doing.  I felt so demoralized to hear that my efforts have been wasted.  Why do I bother?  It makes me want to retreat more.  To simplify and minimize my life to a nice little controllable box.

I have spent so much energy trying to keep engaged in life, even if it is different. I volunteer, I have a few new hobbies, I plan things to do on a somewhat frequent basis.  I go to work. I support myself.  I am still alive.  I think I have done fairly well considering the trauma and shock and grief of Chris’s death.

I just feel very sick about it and the most helpless and ready to give up I have felt in a year. 

How do I pick myself back up again?  Well I thought writing about it might help.  Since speaking is so hard.

I know another problem I have that makes it hard for me to share, is that I am an independent person.  Chris is the exception to this.  Outside of him, I have never really wanted any inputs in my decisions, any opinions on how I look or feel.  As time has gone on, with something as personal and deep as my grief for Chris and our family that will never exist,  I have stopped talking about it with those I am close to who have a stake in my life (family and friends).  I just can’t handle their input, at any level.  What do they know of being widowed at 28, only 6 months married? 

I have always been a grin and bear it kind of person (when I did one of those silly online quizzes, my guiding philosophies were Stoicism, Utilitarianism, and Realism).  So my internalizing of my grief from my family and friends feels comfortable to me, like an old wound that is flaring up (not that the wound from Chris’s death is old).  It is easier to share with people outside these circles.  I share with my support group and I share with my therapist, I share with God, and now with this blog again.  For me, this is the most comfortable, the most bearable, the most palatable. 

You do not have a stake in how I am other than a general support and well wishing.  You do not care about my moods or my approaches or my habits.

I am struggling and I am trying to find methods to deal with it that suits my personality so I can survive.  For me it is more in the written word not the spoken.

Thank you for reading, those of you who do.