March 16, 2011

How I should be spending my nights

I have had very few dreams about Chris since he died as I said in my last post.  I can count the number or dreams I had of him on two hands.  I don’t know if it is an extension of my issues with remembering him in general, my feelings of rejection and abandonment, or my strange sleeping patterns.  I have had 3 “good” ones but mostly bad ones. Every night I ask him to come to me and tell me he loves me and misses me, but nothing yet. 

There are two main theme of the “bad ones”.  1.) Chris survived his death/was brought back but he is still sick and still needs to go to the doctor, but he won’t or he dies again before  he can.  These dreams are anguish filled.  I beg him and try to save him and I am not successful.  I have to watch him die over and over again.  I always wake up more exhausted than before.  2.) Chris is mad at me, doesn’t want to talk to me, doesn’t want to marry me/stay married to me.  These are also hard, he ignores me and I just know he wants to not get married/get divorced.  It breaks my heart and makes me feel even more alone and abandoned.

I have had a few good ones.  The first one was not long after Chris died, I was laying in our bed sleeping and he came and sat next to me.  He just came and sat with me.  The second, was about my knitting.  My mom taught me to knit this summer as a way to help with my grief (which it has), but I kept thinking about what Chris would have thought about my knitting.  In the dream, he showed up, shoved a gray sweater in my hands and said he loved my knitting and that was it.  It was almost as if he was annoyed that I needed the reassurance.  The last one, we were in the backseat of his truck and we were making out.  Oh boy, it was wonderful to be kissing him again and feel close to  him.  But I could tell he was, again kind of annoyed that I wanted to make out, he did it to try to make me happy, but he wanted to be doing other things. 

I know everyone has different thoughts and beliefs on what happens after we die and my views now are so different from what they were before Chris died.  I definitely believe in life after death.  I believe our loved ones are involved in our lives.  I believe they can communicate with us and help guide us.  I do think they can come to us in dreams.  I think Chris has visited some of our friends and family and he has come to visit me in those three good dreams.

I think the bad dreams are my subconscious, trying to make sense of what has happened.  I think my brain and heart are trying to relive Chris’s death so it can try to change the outcome, since I didn’t get a chance. 

Why I have only dreamed about Chris no more than 10 times in the 322 nights I have spent without him, I have no idea.  How have I survived 322 nights without him?  That might be the bigger question.


January 8, 2011

I look at the people in these pictures and I dont’ know who they are. 

On a hay-ride

Faint echos of laughter, kisses, jokes float in my mind, but it is like watching a movie.

Abstractly I remember being with Chris and the things we did but I don’t feel like I remember his presence.  What it was like to have him around.  His laugh.  What he would say about things.  Do I even know him anymore?  My brain seems to have pushed him out in order to survive.

In some ways I am grateful.  I have realized that my brain knows what it is doing and how much I can handle.  Clearly I can’t handle much.  Those few moments where I fully realize and feel the loss of Chris (my Chris, the man who would wag his tail like a dog when I got home from work) is dead, gone forever and it makes me sick. The pain is so great I nearly vomit. 

It also makes me heartbroken to think that our love, our marriage, the beautiful intimacy of two people who love each other above all else, can be wiped away so easily.  It makes me scream at the injustice. 

But maybe it is more than just my brain, maybe its me.  I have changed so much, been through so much, felt so much on my own and not with Chris.  This version of me isn’t settled and happy and loved, she hasn’t known the amazing feeling of coming home to your soul mate.  She has grown, gained strengthened, grieved deeply, and become her own soul mate. 

How can my old life with Chris seem real after all of this?  It doesn’t.  Chris is not my flesh and blood

I love you

husband, he is a memory.  Maybe that is what it is, it is merely my adjustment from Chris as a person to a memory.

I guess this is where mindfulness would come in handy.  Just let it be what it will be. 



I love you.  Our life was torn apart and we have gone our separate ways.  Even though you feel distant and unreal, I chose to love you everyday, as I promised on the day we got married.

I love you,