… if I feel like I need to chug a couple of drinks before spending time with a friend.  I haven’t seen her in a long time and felt like I should see her, even if just to give her the baby blanket I made a while ago.  But I don’t really want to tell her about my life and I don’t really want to hear about hers.  So I feel like numbing myself to it would be easier.  Yep, I have issues.  Good thing I am in therapy. 

Being widowed sucks.  I don’t recommend it. 

Maybe I will just have one glass of wine instead with dinner, before the movie, and drink to all of you widow/ers out there who are doing something tonight that they would rather not do.

Another Heartbreak

May 6, 2012

I have been avoiding pictures of Chris for a while. They were just too painful, jarring even.  My denial wrapped conscious couldn’t handle the visual reminder that Chris existed and now he doesn’t. 

Chris and my younger niece apple picking

Recently, however, I have been looking at them agian, generally when I am already upset.  Can’t make it much worse, so better to really dive in and get it out.  So I was just looking at some pictures from 2007, when I took Chris apple picking with my sister and her two daughters.  It was such a great day.  We all had fun and the girls loved Chris. That was the day I finally admitted to my 26 year old self that I wanted to marry this man.

Looking at them now brings up these emotions, they are familiar and happy yet painful.  But there is a new emotion with it or maybe it is more of a realization.  When I look at these pictures, I know that Chris is no longer mine.  Ugh, this BREAKS MY HEART.  I still love him and I know he still loves me, but it is a different love. It isn’t the possesive, committed love of man and wife.  It is a more spiritual love.  And it  BREAKS MY HEART.

Most of me hates it.  It makes ms sob and cry out. There is a small part of me, that knows it is true.  Knows that the love has to change, just as our existances have changed.  I have been fighting this for two years.  I loved being Chris’s life. It was the most important thing to me in my life.  But it is, what it is.

I’m Stuck

December 2, 2011

04/28/10: The Day My Life Ended

I’m stuck.  I don’t know how to explain it other than that and the picture here. 

 This is the calendar in my kitchen that we used to coordinate our schedules.  Most of it is in Chris’s handwriting.  The “Vegas” at the bottom is the trip we were suppose to take to his cousin’s wedding the day after he died.  I am stuck in April of 2010. That is when my life ended.

At first I didn’t want to erase it, to forget what we did in our last month together.  I didn’t want to forget that we belonged to each other.  I didn’t want to erase his handwriting.  Now, I haven’t gotten rid of it because I have been stuck in this cycle of “functioning”.  Getting through the day, waking up by myself, getting through work, coming home to an empty house, eating dinners alone, dragging myself to bed when I can barely keep my eyes open so I don’t think too much about how Chris isn’t in bed with me.  Doing anymore than this has been impossible. I haven’t had the energy to take any steps to adjust my environment, especially confronting anything particularly painful.

I have been living this life, well it isn’t really a life let’s be honest, half in my old one half in a new one.  I live in our house, I changed it some but it’s still the same house.  I go to basically the same job.  I have the same friends.  Rinse and Repeat.  Where I am is not good for me.  It is painful and heavy.  It is a life that was set up for being married, starting a family.  That is not my life anymore.

I need a change, but I don’t know what to change.  If I had some idea some big dream I put on hold to start a family, I could go after it. Do I want to write a book?  Do I want to go live in some exotic location? Sail around the world? I don’t know if I would enjoy those things. I don’t know if they would give me a sense of purpose and fulfillment that I don’t have.  I don’t have any dreams left.  My dream was Chris and our family together.  There wasn’t a single dream or plan in my life that he wasn’t involved in.  As I struggle with my “anguish attacks” and daily depression, I desperately search for something to do to make me feel like I am living again rather than existing.  Until I find something, where does that leave me?  Purgatory.  Stuck in April 2010.

What a week

November 7, 2011

I survived another hard week.  It started with Halloween, which I posted on, and then on Wednesday it was Chris’s birthday.  He would have been 32.  How is that possible?  There are so many thoughts I have on that, so many mixed emotions.  Much like your feel about your own age and disbelief at reaching a certain age.  I can’t believe Chris would be old enough to be 32, I meet him when he was 25.  But at the same time it just highlights how long he has been gone.  This is the second birthday I have been through without him. 

In some ways the worst part of it is that it doesn’t feel like his birthday anymore.  It is just another day.  There are no preparations, no gift buying,  no joy in finding something that will bring him joy.  Just dread at another day that is hard and painful. 

Last year I did something to recognize it.  This year I really couldn’t  other than a “happy birthday Chris” text to his parents.  I thought about going to a movie (he liked to go to dinner and a movie on his birthday). But it was too hard and I was out of energy.  I had one big breakdown and then I think my heart was on shut down mode.

But I survived it and the day passed.  Just like everyday.  It comes and goes. 

This weekend I held a fundraiser with some friends for two causes related to Chris’s death (a scholarship fund and the Myocarditis Foundation http://myocarditisfoundation.org/)  It was a good event with high points and low points.  Mostly I had to fight off the anxiety attacks (it’s really more of an anguish attack, than anxiety, but it has a similar physical response) to get through the night.  

But I did.  As much as I hate these kind of events, because it highlights my loss,  I also know that I am committed to supporting these causes, despite how painful it can be. 

So by yesterday I was exhausted.  I haven’t been sleeping well so I couldn’t even enjoy the extra hour.  I came into this week feeling run down and searching for a way to change my current situation so it isn’t so hard.  Not sure how to do that yet.

I saw this article earlier and wanted to share it: http://news.yahoo.com/loneliness-may-cause-fitful-sleep-study-211927698.html.  I absolutely believe it is true.  I sleep, but fitfully, because I feel too vulnerable to sleep well.  My body can’t fully relax.  I don’t think I will ever sleep as well as I did when Chris was alive.  I no longer have the same sense of security. I am sure it is the same for many other widows and widowers.

Happy Halloween Chris

November 1, 2011

Hi Baby,

Halloween isn’t the same without you. We both enjoyed it so much, another of the myriad of things we had in common.  I remember when we were first dating and you told me of the traditions you had with your dad and your brother.  I loved you then.

I decorated the house a bit without you.  I handed out candy too.  I felt very alone though. Very vulnerable.  Kind of like my lonely pumpkin out on the porch by itself.  I realized how clear it is that I am here alone. 

Chris as a creepy zombie in 2008

 

I miss you, even though it is painful to remember.  I miss you and our life, but I am getting use to my new one. 

Blech. 

 

So I went into my email to check it this morning as usual and I got an email reminding me that Chris’s birthday is coming up (next week) and here are some gifts I could get for him.  Ugh.

This just makes me so sad.  My niece pointed out a couple of months ago that we don’t get Chris presents anymore because he is dead.  Yes, niece, that is true.

I posted about the same damn reminder last year https://widowedowl.wordpress.com/2010/10/26/chriss-birthday/   I am deleting it now.  Another set of gut wrenching actions, deleting/closing/removing things that were part of your spouse’s life that they no longer need now.

Having just gotten through our “anniversary”, I am not sure I can handle his birthday.

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.

It has been over 10 months since Chris died.  While I live with the pain and loneliness everyday, I still don’t believe that he is never coming home.  I sit in his chair and watch tv, waiting for him to walk through the door and tell me to get out of his chair.  I think about things I can’t wait to tell him.  I get into bed and I think of how much nicer it will be once he gets home.  I hug his clothes in the closet and I don’t believe that he will never wear them again. 

How can it be? How long does it take for it to sink in that he is never coming home and I am without him for the rest of my life?

I feel like I am in this painful part purgatory no past, no future, just the very confusing and disorienting present.  I thought it was supposed to get better, but it is getting harder.  I remember this time last year and it isn’t happy for me yet, I just think about how I had no idea he was dying.  I think about how he only had a little under two months to live.  I think about how I didn’t do anything, couldn’t do anything.  I think about how long it has been since I was in his arms and we were laughing and in love.  I think about how I will never have that again. 

How has almost a year gone by?  I am stuck in April of last year.  My brain really doesn’t know what is going on.

Bloggers Block

March 7, 2011

I have seriously started and stopped several posts over the last week.  I want to write something, but nothing feels right.  What can I say that has not been said?   What can I say that doesn’t sound like self-centered pity party? Plus, I don’t feel anyone emotion for more than a few minutes anyway. 

I do not like feeling this way.  How can I jolt myself out of it? Sitting at a computer doesn’t help. 

Now I am thinking of just deleting this post too.

Blech. 

That is the word we would always use to describe how we felt when we were sick, discontent or plagued by ennui. 

What would I do if Chris were alive?  To jolt myself out of a funk, I would plan something fun for us to do together.  I would plan something for the house. I would research some topic related to our life.  I lived for our future and the times we would spend together.

Now that I don’t have that, now what do I do?  Planning for myself hasn’t seemed to work. I try to think of things for the basement renovation, but that doesn’t seem to work and has put me in a bigger funk than before.

I just miss him so much. Those words don’t describe the aching.  I just want to talk to him to have him sitting next to me to be playing xbox in another room.

Ugh.  I am not sure how much more I can take.

I just cried on the way back to my car, in my car, on the way back to my house, on the way to work …

I went to get permits for my newly decided upon renovation.  It went fairly well at first, I was nervous as I don’t know what I am doing and in general it is very emotionally charged to do these things without Chris, but I was feeling a bit empowered as the first part went ok.  Then I saw that Chris’s name as well as mine were on the permit. 

Ugh.  He is still on the deed, so I guess I should have expected that, but I thought it would be what was on the application.  Then I was afraid that I was going to need Chris’s signature as well for something and then be delayed and have to take more time off work to get the deed changed, etc etc etc stupid paperwork.

So I go to the next station, where they look at the plans.  Right off the bat the guy says “Your husband made you come down here and pull the permits instead up him didn’t he?”

<Gulp>, breath being knocked out of me, little whimpy whisper “No”. 

“I bet he did”

Silence as I try to keep from crying, decide not to set the record straight and try not to think about the fact that Chris would have insisted on doing this himself  and then I would have insisted we do it together and then go out to breakfast or lunch as a way to celebrate.  Or that if I had in the end gone without Chris I would have joked around at Chris’s expense lovingly.

I manage to shove it down.  Answer his questions, remain pleasant, whatever I need to get this guy to approve the plans so I can checkout and be done.

As soon as I check out with my permits and walk out of the building, bam tears.  Streaming down. 

Thank God for sunglasses. 

This is why I have “social” anxiety.  This is why I don’t want to make certain phone calls, this is why I haven’t gotten my haircut since before Chris died (well over 9 months), this is why I don’t want to go to the dentist (last time I was there I still hadn’t changed my name to my new married name and had to listen to the congratulations) and why I avoid meeting new people unless it through my widow world (support group, foundations, online, etc).

Vomit, it makes me want to vomit.  A simple conversation with a stranger who might ask about my life (perfectly normal and 9 months ago I would have been perfectly happy to talk about my life) is filled with ticking emotional time bombs and I don’t have the energy to deal with them. 

I was hoping to escape that this morning, should have known better. 

But I got the permits.