TornApart

(((JHawk))) So sorry that you are here. But it is good that you found us. You will find nothing but understanding here. Just knowing people are here to listen and actually know what it is like - it makes a difference. One breath at a time.

Hi Mona, so sorry that you have joined our group - but you will find comfort and empathy here. I could have written the exact same post as you 4 years ago. So many friends that promised to be there for me but disappeared very quickly. I heard it described as firefighter and builder. Firefighters come in during the emergency but aren't there when you are rebuilding. They just don't have those skills. Builders can be rare. And the combination is extremely rare! I was surprised both by who disappeared and also who stepped up that I didn't expect. It takes a little bit of the sting out when you think of it that way. There were a lot of people that just couldn't cope with the pain. We don't get a choice to escape the pain. They do. I had serious abandonment issues after - as you said, grieving the loss of a husband plus friends and family that disappeared. But I have survived and become a stronger, more resilient person. I finally let go of the fury of what I considered their abandonment and lack of courage to stand by my side when I needed them most. Fairweather friends. And now I know that I have the strength and courage to face anything alone. But I won't have to because i have made a lot of new friends. I am a different person now, so my friends were also going to change. I am happy again. Moments of grief, but living life. My new life. Hope this helps knowing that others have got through it and felt all the same things.

(((MrsDan))) Yes. I hear you.

Oh gosh yes. I was 33 and we had no kids. All of a sudden I lived in an alternate reality. But everyone had a view on how I should be handling it. I grew exhausted from trying to meet everyone's expectations and trying all their (well-meaning but clueless) suggested avenues to returning to 'normalcy'. Truth is, you can't. This new reality is your reality. You have to find a way to live in it, and people have to adjust to the new you. My suggestion, based on what I wish I had done in hindsight, is to focus on you and what you need to do to heal. If people are interfering with your healing, you need to walk away. Not forever necessarily, but for a while. Give yourself space, and give them space. They are hurting too. Everyone is hurting and is easily hurt and upset. Like a wound. You cover it and protect it from things that might stop it healing or hurt it further. And once it is healed, the bandage can come off when the skin is a strong enough barrier again. Don't jump. Be proud every day that you haven't. Because it is tempting. But how happy you will be eventually that you didn't jump, because the new reality is that you are stronger and braver than you ever thought possible,

Practiced meditation. Bought a fur rug like one I had as a child so i could stroke it and calm myself down - psychologist suggested a teddy bear. Reading books about grief and crying it out to exhaustion and sleep. Cat purring beside me. Found a good therapist. (These are only my good suggestions - i trialed ambien, alcohol, xanax etc too) But it tooks months and months and months. Just learnt to live on less sleep, not worry when i wasn't sleeping, and appreciating the sleep when i got it.

Every single one of us, I suspect. The pain is beyond anything and you crave to be back with them. Anything to get them back and the pain to go away. But you learn to live with the new reality. I know that doesn't seem possible right now.

Yes. I remember that. All exactly that. Nothing. Nothing works. Nothing makes it better, or relieves the pain for long. No energy. Don't want to be alone. Want to scream at people when I am around them. Read a page. Put it down. Start something. Drift off. Wow. Your post brought it all back, angelk75. You aren't losing your mind. Your world is just completely changing all around you. I know I can say nothing to really help. Except it does get better. You do get back. We are here for you.

Klaxl, take a breath. This is going to be rough. But you can do it. I'm 4 years out on 21 January. The most important thing I learned was to walk away from toxic people. Even ones you feel guilty about leaving behind. You are going to be struggling, so if people don't bring healing and understanding into your life, walk away and don't look back. I have never been prone to depression, self harm and suicide ideation, but even I faced that in the months after my beloved died. We had been going through a rough patch - that's just part of marriage. He loved you no matter what -remember that. He was a good man and he understood that you had been going through something. It's fine. It turns out that a lot of our rough patch was the massive undiagnosed brain tumour in his frontal lobe. The only reason he had gone to the doctor in the last few months is because I called and booked. His doctor gave him nasal spray. For a brain tumour. That they found days before he died and when it was too late. It infuriates me that somehow wives are responsible for their husband's health. They are grown men. They can organise to see a doctor themselves. Don't take any of your MIL's accusations on yourself. She is grieving and lashing out. It happens unfortunately. It isn't you; it's her. Do what you need to keep going. Be gentle of yourself. Breathe. Take it one second at a time. Sometimes that is all you can do. We have been there and made it through. It isn't easy but eventually it gets more bearable, and then you find that life is worth living again. It can take months and even years, but it is worth it. You come out the other side as someone your husband would be so proud of - a strong survivor. And that's what you can do to honour your husband. Hugs

This is so beautiful, mekender. I am sorry you lost your soulmate, Anne.

Hi Kaycee, I understand how you feel. As Mike and BrokenHeart2 said, it is a terrible, painful readjustment. Your world has fallen apart and how can you trust it and your place in it anymore? The psychological stress is just overwhelming. Even the littlest things take all your effort. Your friendship group changes so much for so many of us, just when we need stability the most. But at almost 4 years out, my view is that you make a new world for yourself and new friends emerge from places you least expect. But losing friends is a whole added dimension of extra grieving. It is painful. I'm sorry. Just want you to know we are here for you.

My psychologist at the time recommended that I buy a sheep skin to replicate the one I had in my childhood. I would drape that over a pillow and stroke it. The texture was soothing and gave warmth and comfort. Strange and may not help everyone, but I wasn't sleeping at all without serious prescription drugs, so I was willing to try all crazy sounding ideas.

I am just terribly sorry, Frank. Your loss is devastating. It is a struggle to find support and true understanding as a young widow/er. You have found the right place here. I didn't find this group until 9 months after my husband died unexpectedly and left me a widow at 33. He was diagnosed with a brain tumour on Saturday, went in for a normally 98% successful 'everyday operation' which he was expected to survive as a healthy and fit young man, but he never woke up so we had to make the decision to switch off life support on Monday. 10 days from fine to dead, 2 months after his 5th triathlon. It is so hard to figure out how you fit in the world after such a shock and change to everything you ever believed in. People here have been through it and understand as much as anyone can understand such a terrible personal tragedy.

It does shatter you into pieces. I am so sorry. It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get more bearable over time. One breath at a time and focused on the smallest things, as quixote suggested. My cats kept me alive for over a year when I didn't think I could survive, wasn't sure I wanted to. You slowly put all those shattered pieces together. And you are proud of your strength and endurance. Once you realise you can survive this terrible experience, you know you can do anything. Please trust us on this. I am almost 4 years out, and it took me over 18 months to feel like life was worth living. But it is. It truly is.

Thank you for your post. So true. I find it difficult to explain to other people that haven't gone through this.

As soon as the doctors told me he wasn't going to wake from his operation, I moved to his side of the bed and am still there almost 4 years later, even after having moved house. Even when ex-NG was staying with me, he slept on 'my side' and not on my late husband's side. Would have felt weird having him 'replace' my husband. We had just bought the expensive king-size a year before, so I couldn't afford to replace it.

Good luck. I hope this anniversary isn't quite so sad and painful. Thinking of you x

Absolutely. Most people don't want to mention him, because they don't know how to deal with it. Most people will be looking for clues from you and your behaviour, I've found. I didn't mention him much at first because I was so, so worried about making other people feel uncomfortable. But eventually I realised that, for me, it felt like I couldn't talk about 10 years of my 33, which makes for a difficult conversation when it is already strained. And I felt like I was somehow being disloyal by not mentioning the most important person in my life. It actually caused me more pain bottling it up and not talking about him. So I ended up talking about him freely and easily. A lot of people were really awkward about it at first, but then grew comfortable with it and even appreciated the chance to talk about something inevitable that our society tries not to acknowledge. Others stayed awkward about it. I would adjust to that a little bit, but I don't think my life becomes void and not a suitable topic of conversation just because something terrible happened. I refuse to be metaphorically locked away somewhere out of sight or hearing just because someone doesn't like recognising that we all die. The others have good advice, especially mbanyard. But is all up to you and what makes you feel best. Let's be honest, it is all so incredibly painful, so you have to do what causes you the least pain and helps you heal and cope best, being true to yourself and your values.

That is so exactly what I went through too, except I was 33 with 2 cats. (((Sirin))) I'm also pretty independent and like alone time. But this is something way past 'alone' on any scale. I have to say I felt completely abandoned. You had someone that had your back, and now you are alone. It is just the shittiest feeling. Crushing. Dehabilitating. No one to help when there is some drama with pets, or the house or sorting out his estate. Also, the loss of memory - when you could just ask your husband where you were when some event happened, or what year it was that this happened... I'm almost 4 years out now. I still get those feelings, but less often and less intensely. It took me a long while to adjust, but the hardest but most helpful thing was learning to ask people for help, especially in the first year. People want to help, but don't know how, so they appreciate when you tell them what they can do to help. But do prepare yourself just in case they let you down. It can happen, and can be really disappointing and painful in amidst all the emotional pain that you are in, so it takes a lot of courage to ask again. And now I am proud how I learnt to cope by myself. It's a bit ridiculous, but I kept telling myself / singing 'independent woman' to encourage myself to keep going and figuring out how to do the stuff he used to do for me. YouTube can be a blessing with all kinds of explanations on how to do stuff. I was in tears of frustration and depression at the time, but I made it. Every time I had to call a handyman / tradesman in to help, I would drive him mad by asking questions, which both helped me in the future and was a distraction. It is just awful. Agony. I know telling you 'you will be fine' doesn't help at all right now. I'm truly sorry.

It is strange. Surreal. I'm still not accustomed to it almost 4 years later, but I have learnt to live with it. I had 4 days from when they told me he would never wake up from the surgery to when we switched off life support, and I spent as much of it as I could in the bed with him, stroking him, memorising the feel of his skin, his heat, the shape of his ears... I was in bed with him when they switched off his life support and they let you stay with him for about 5 minutes after, but as soon as his heart stopped beating, I had to leave. What was him was gone. I could fool myself when he was in a coma, but not once he stopped feeling like him. He was buried after organ donation and even though we had talked through all of in the few days we had been his diagnosis and his death, and I am a quite logical atheist, it was just so incredibly difficult to get my head around it. Him not being here. Anywhere. The difference between his body and him. I ended up getting specialised counselling around it all from the organ donation psychologist. I finally came to terms with the idea that there were echoes of him, imprints, copies of him inside me, in my head and my heart. Thats when I kind of felt that he was somehow still with me. Sorry. Not sure if that helps at all. But it is just all so much to get your head around. It takes time. Feeling your pain, Blue Green.

Hi MB, yes, I compulsively changed everything too. Tidied and cleaned and sorted and a lot of home-based retail therapy. I even got builders and painters in. Part of it was about doing the things with the house that we had planned together, but a lot of it was trying to take the pain of memories out of spaces and start to figure out who I was without him. Almost 4 years later, and I don't regret any of it.... except I probably shouldn't have spent quite so much. If it works for you, it works. I know other wids who try not to change a thing and changes they can't avoid causes them pain. I think it is important to do what comes naturally to you. Instinct is an amazing thing. Good luck x

(((Mbanyard))) I could have written your post myself at 11 weeks. Exactly how I felt. My dad even asked why I wasn't 'over it yet'. Just when I had past my period of numbness and shock and was starting to feel and comprehend. I don't think I will ever be 'over it'. I did what was 'expected' of me too. Tried to pretend I wasn't in agony because people couldn't cope with the pain and didn't want to be around it. I felt like I was being punished just when I needed love and compassion the most. But you will find your way. It takes a long time. I won't lie about that. Don't expect to cope and be strong - don't place expectations or demands on yourself. Just be gentle on yourself and give yourself permission to not be okay for a while. The path is lost for now. It will reveal itself in time. Don't panic. I'm so sorry that you are going through this. It is terrible. You might not believe this, but eventually you will realise that you are a stronger, better person for enduring this nightmare. One day, one breath at a time.

That is a very beautiful way of honoring Tim amd your Dad, and facing cancer through gentleness and compassion. They would be so proud of you.

Thanks for your psot, @hikermom. This is exactly why I come back to this board - other widows know and are facing the same things. I hate public sympathy grabs but I ended up posting photos of him on FB later that night. I needed acknowledgement that he hadn't been forgotten, that people still cared. I'm in Australia so no widdabagos, as far as I am aware. And a much smaller population so it doesn't feel like there are many young widows around, and no support groups that I could find. I have to say that I am struggling with being alone and wanting to spend time with people but they have their own familes and don't have time. Most of my single friends have moved overseas, so out to meet strangers... 😞

This is a tough one, Shannon. It takes a lot time for the shock to wear off, so people think you are coping, and move on. But you are destroyed - it just takes a while for you to notice, and by then it feels like you are too late to ask people for help. If you are some who has always been capable and sure of her own power, you might not know how to ask for help and you may hate it. And so often you don't even know what you need and what to ask for. You just want your love back and life to go back to normal. I know a lot of people around you feel helpless and they are also in pain; it hurts them to see you in pain and not know what to do. But many people do want to help - they are just waiting for you to ask and tell them what you need. It can feel horrible to be so vulnerable and needy, but do trust them to try their best and trust that they care. I was in the same position as you at the 2 month mark. It took a while but it did get better once I learned to ask for help, to realize some people just couldn't help - they didn't have the emotional tools, and other people that stepped up to help that I didn't expect. Your alienated friend will come back later when he can. They do all give a shit. I know it doesn't feel like it, because they are living their normal life with their families and they have absolutely no concept what widowhood feels like. I was so ragingly angry. That's how I managed my grief. It feels like a more useful emotion than grief, and vulnerability, and helplessness, which I had never really felt before. I was used to managing everything, helping others, being in charge. People didn't know who to relate to this new me, and I didn't know how to relate to them with all my new emotions. Ones that felt like weakness, after everyone telling me how amazingly strong I was in the first month or two. People do give a shit. At the very least, we widdas give a shit because we know what you are going through. I'm so sorry.

Such a tough situation - we are just in a completely different phase of life to them. I was 33 when I was widowed, so not as young as you, but it was hard to see everyone else happy at home with the partner and their children, and feel that we had so little in common. We had decided not to have kids, but had each other. So not as difficult for me to see pregancies all around like so many other wids.