How do you go on?

[still_lost]

I'm having a very difficult time finding the joy that I felt when my husband was alive. I'm not excited about things anymore, and I don't have a lot of things to look forward to. I love my child, and do my very best to be a good mom, but other than my day to day responsibilities, I have given up on everything else. I'm just tired. I've accepted that my husband is gone and never coming back, and my life has forever been changed. How do you get up everyday when you feel like you have no hope?

[klim]

The looking inward and finding what motivates...always a difficult task.

People say find your passion.....I'm not sure I have one.

 

I know a few things that I find pleasant and relax me, so I aim to do those. I like hiking, biking generally being outdoors. I'm not a fanatic ,I don't need to do this all the time but I like it. So I find some events and plan for them. The anticipation makes the day to day grind more bareable.

I'd like to be able to plan bigger and further into the future but since I can't quite envision it these short term goals will have to do.

So that's how I go on.

[Portside]

I've accepted that my husband is gone and never coming back, and my life has forever been changed.

 

Actually, if you have done this, then you?ve done the hard part ? although I?m certain it doesn?t feel that way right now.

 

It?s been my experience the key issue to address is ?Do I want to get better? To be happy again?? I?ve been amazed at the number of folks that find themselves in our situation for whom the answer is ?No.? How sad. But, assuming your personal take on these questions are ?Of course!?, then perhaps what I did could work for you. I forced myself to get up and get out among the living. I had two children that also vied for my time so I worked hard to carve some time out for myself and reengage with the outside world and try new things, go new places, meet new people, and change the routines that my late wife and I settled into over the many years of our marriage.  I went out to eat alone if I had to and talked to the servers all evening. Anything to re-engage.

 

It wasn?t easy. I started down loads of dead ends and was involved with more than a few unproductive pursuits. But, if something didn?t work for me or my family, I pitched it and tried another new event/experience. Some days, just getting outside into the sun was enough to help the boys and me be happy. Eventually, the outside world felt more welcoming and happier than it had before. Upon reflection, I?m convinced the world hadn?t changed but rather, the change was from within.

 

I too was tired all the time, just like you for all the same reasons. I added some exercise to my existence which not only introduced me to a number of like-minded folks, but helped me to feel better both physically and mentally. In any case, any activity can help chase away the feelings of overwhelming fatigue.

 

One thing I?d like to ask you to do is never give up. Especially during the tough days that sneak up on you. From my time in the Marine Corps I learned long ago that attitude is more important than anything else. It will save you when nothing else will. I?ve witnessed folks die simply because they gave up ? it wasn?t their wounds that did them in but rather the shroud of hopelessness that they allowed to sweep over them. This is something you have control over if you wish.

 

One step at a time you can do this. Just one more step.

 

I?m pulling for you! Best wishes - Mike

 

[still_lost]

I'm trying my best not to give up, but it seems to get harder as time goes on and nothing changes.

[Quixote]

Coming up on five years, it's still hard. I get by on routine and obligations.  If I always do X in the morning (feed the critters, for example), I'll catch myself doing it before I have a chance to just crawl back into bed.  Making times to meet others helps, too:  oh, I'll still do that last minute cancel thing, but push comes to shove I'll try to make appointments.  And once you get moving, you'll typically keep moving. 

 

 

[MikeR]

Still_lost,

 

About a week after my wife died, her aunt, who was widowed 20 years before and has since recoupled, said to me, "Michael, things will be better, but it's different."

 

At the time I didn't fully understand what she meant, but her words stuck with me. Now I realize that things are better, but my life is completely (and I really mean that) different. In some ways worse than it was but in many ways better. But, again,  DIFFERENT.

 

I think it's a difficult thing to accept is that life is different. I think that we need to accept that and to embrace the difference. Things I once enjoyed doing I no longer enjoy (especially things "we" used to do together). Then again, I have new interests that I didn't have before.

 

One thing that took quite a lot of introspection was to understand why I was still here. If not for my 2 kids, I would have gladly left this Earth to be with Cathryn again. Now I see that this would have been a mistake. I do have a purpose here. We all do - the trick is to discover it. It's different for all of us.

 

Keep working on it. The suggestions others have made are all good ones. I found that when something was bothering me, rather than run away from it I would hit it head on, even when it hurt more. Eventually, I was able to resolve the issue (well, most of the time).

 

Be aware of the things that make you happy and those that make you unhappy. Gravitate towards one and away from the other. It takes time. I'm still working on it.

 

Mike

 

 

[Guest TooSoon]

I am at that place.  I've made my way through the illness, death and grief and while there are moments of tremendous joy, for me they happen in little compartments - they are fleeting. I keep searching for something more.  I was just thinking the other day how a year ago I still wasn't able to just get up every day and fulfill life's responsibilities.  Six months ago I started being really ambitious again which has been a mixed bag so far (disappointments and uncertainties hurt much more now).  But I don't feel anything day to day; there is now a shield between me and the world; I don't want to live like this and I do worry how it affects my child but I'm not sure there was any other option, any other way to make it through and recover.  I don't think much about how I am feeling or what I need.  I just go.  So I don't have a solution but I super get it.  ox

[anniegirl]

I agree with MikeR. Life is different and part of going on is making peace with that.

 

I agree with Portside/Mike too. Happiness is kind of a choice. You have to want to.

 

Before my LH died - and he took his time doing it - I was forced to remake my life. He spent the majority of his illness in a nursing home and then hospice. I was a single mom, working a full-time job for a while before I was officially a widow. Unless you knew me really well, you'd have had no clue what was going on in my life and even people who did know me, sometimes forgot.

 

One morning, I dropped by another teacher's room to chat with her about something during my planning period. Her class was working on projects and we were watching them. Joking a bit and out of the blue she says,

 

"How can you smile with all that's going on in your life?"

 

I didn't even think about my answer, "Because someday I know I will be happy again."

 

And I did know. LH was months and months from dying but I knew he would and I knew I would be okay again someday. Even happy.

 

If I hadn't decided that early on and clung to it, I don't know where I would be right now.

 

But it's been ten years since he died. More than that since I had that conversation with my co-worker.

 

Life is different. Partly because I made it different. I had a plan and I executed it.

 

I met a guy. Remarried. Changed careers. Twice now and thinking about a new one again. I moved to another country. I am not happy every single day but most days, life is pretty damn good. In some ways, better than it was and not at all what my life would have been like had LH not taken ill and died. Not that my life before was less than. Just different than the life I have now. And that's okay.

 

It seems daunting and in a lot of ways it is, but your life is yours to do with as you want. Stay where you are or change it. Happiness is a bit circumstantial but it is also something you can create if you put your mind to it.

 

Hmm, I wrote too much again. So short version: if you want to be happy, be happy. Pick just one thing that you really want to do, and do it. And then - pick something else and add it to your to do list. You can do it. Life can be better. But it won't be better by magic.

 

 

 

 

[Guest TooSoon]

Yes, happiness is a choice and having a plan and executing it worked for you.  I get that.  But it is more nuanced than, in my case, saying, "OK tomorrow we're moving to England."  There are more factors at play.  I'm not unhappy.  I'm tired.  I had a trajectory that involved getting a PhD, a tenure track job, tenure and then a family, brain cancer and death, and I have not and will not walk away from that without knowing what I am doing.  That's not choosing to be unhappy.  So yeah, some days really suck.  I've been conservative in all of my choices because there are the lives of four other people involved in my choices; I've paid a price for that but it was and is what is right for everyone in my life right now.  What would be good for me at this very moment is not what is right for those four other people so I have chosen to delay what I know I want because it matters that we get it right.  So my point was solely that I have put mechanisms in place to be able to keep going.  I don't regret that.  I am 43 years old, madly in love yet I am not at this moment willing to walk away from the life I built.  I don't always like it but I didn't always like it before. 

 

We're all different - our brains and our circumstances and our values and our stories are different.  It is also ok not to have all of the answers sometimes.  Still_lost, I have days when I just don't know what I am living for beyond my child (I mean, I do but it doesn't always feel that way and that is normal!).  It's been just over 3 years for me (value added 2 years as caregiver) and I am tired of fighting.  I just accept it as part of the hand I was dealt.  I know this doesn't make it any easier but if I don't fight it, it doesn't bother me as much.  I also know that it's not every day anymore.  Just some days.  And there are fewer and fewer of them (yesterday happened to be one).

 

[anniegirl]

Too Soon, I was replying to the OP. Sorry. Should have been more clear.

[Wheelerswife]

It is hard to have hope sometimes.  After my first husband died, I found hope rather quickly, compared to many others.  I was naive in thinking that others could find hope like I did, if they only made the decision to be happy and be open to hope.  I was just lucky, really.  I found an incredible man, also widowed, who understood me so well.  We fell in love quickly.  We had financial stability.  I moved to be with him, started a completely new life and remarried.  I went back to school and traveled both domestically and internationally.  Life was grand.  I wanted everyone else to find what I had found, and some of my friends did find the same kind of happiness.  At the same time, I had come to recognize that each person's circumstances were unique and their experiences of widowhood were sometimes very different from mine.

 

Then my second husband died.  I started having anxiety and panic attacks.  I had health issues, surgery and was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer.  My sense of hope went right out the window.  I finally had a glimpse of how some other people have a very, very different experience of widowhood.  Part of me is still quite resilient and I want hope and happiness in my life, but I know it isn't nearly as easy as just wanting it.  So...I keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I grieve.  I spend a lot of time contemplating life.  I am grateful for what I have had in my life...knowing love that some others never see.  I try to hope for that kind of love again.  I know that is what I want...although I realize that not everyone out there wants what I want.  I do wish that other widows will find happiness again, in whatever form that takes for them.  But I know that happiness does not come purely by making a decision to be happy.  If it were that easy, we would all be happy again by the second anniversary, right?

 

Hugs,

 

Maureen

[anniegirl]

Choosing happiness doesn't make it happen. It just keeps the option open. There's no magic. It's deciding where you want to go and then taking the steps/risks to make it happen.

[Trying]

I agree that choosing to be happy doesn't guarantee you will be, but I know for sure that refusing to allow it will guarantee you will never find it.  The question is how much are we willing to risk being hurt, rejected, or disappointed? We have to be ready to take the chance and deal with the outcome.  That is not always an easy decision.  Some how I have become a risk taker in my widowhood in many ways that I never was.  Some things have worked out well and others have not but the risks have helped me to feel alive and proactive.  Not the way to go for everyone.

[lcoxwell]

I read this a few days ago, and I have been contemplating my response ever since. I am going to be honest and share a few things I rarely ever share, here. To be perfectly honest, some of what I am going to share is going to be quite painful for me to say; but I hope it can help someone, along the way.

 

Most people know that I am an eternal optimist; that I generally appear to have my act together; and that I seemed to move forward, to make peace with Kenneth's death, to find joy and happiness, and to move into the BAG group somewhat faster than others that lost their spouses along my same timeline. With that being said, what I am about to share next may surprise some people.

 

What most people do not know, however, is that I have also had serious struggles with severe anxiety, that I have been diagnosed with PTSD, that previously diagnosed health problems have been exacerbated by stress related to the aftermath of Kenneth's death, that I experienced a mini stroke (likely triggered by that stress), and that I came very, VERY close to having a nervous breakdown and needing to be hospitalized for a psychiatric evaluation, all since Kenneth died, with most of these occurring within the last year. I don't often let people know about those struggles, because I am good at putting on the mask and pretending that everything is perfectly fine, for a variety of reasons. One, I live so far away from most of my friends and family, that I don't want them to worry. Two, I am a respected teacher, and don't want my reputation to be damaged or compromised. And three, I have a fierce determination that I will not be a victim of my circumstances and that I will not allow Kenneth's death to destroy me; so, I fight with every single bit of strength I have within me to not let the anxiety, the PTSD, the stress, the health problems, the grief, and the desire to crawl into bed and never get up again beat me down. I refuse to give up or give in.

 

When I realized that I had some serious problems that needed to be dealt with, I took action. I started seeing a grief counselor and I sought medical help for my worsening medical conditions. As I had been doing, since Kenneth's death, I came here for support, when I needed it. I also leaned on family and friends in real life. One of my coworkers used to send an email out once a week with updates on activities going on in the community. I forced myself to attend at least one activity a week, just to make myself get out of the house and to interact with at least one other person. I found one person at work to help me keep track of deadlines and responsibilities, in case widda brain kicked in and I forgot things (reduced stressed = more peace). I exercised, listened to music, read the Bible, prayed, attended church, started seeing New Guy and began building a healthy relationship with him.

 

In the words of my grief counselor, I started doing all the "right things" to deal with and manage the grief. Did that mean I found joy and a reason to get up every day? On some days, it did. But not every day. Over time, I decided to move to a different city, to start a new teaching position, to build a new life. It was the very best choice I could have ever made. I now have the joy I was missing. I have a reason to go on and a reason to get up, and I rarely have anxiety attacks or flashbacks or issues with the PTSD, anymore. I am slowly getting my health problems under control. It has been a long, hard road, though; and I still have days, when it takes ever ounce of strength I have within me to fight to put on foot in front of the other and to make it through yet another day.

[Guest TalksToAngels]

You just do.

Hopefully something happy comes to our lives.

Sometimes it may not, but the choice to go on and thrive is a pleasant possibility.

Have to make the best of things. No other way.

[linda5]

Icoxwell,

 

Thank you for the candid post.  I'll be at 3 years March 24th and just reading what you wrote has given me the strength I need.  Wishing you the very best life has to offer.