Mizpah

You will slowly find yourself caring again about your life and future. Maybe not now. Maybe not in the next few months. Everything you wrote is exactly right. Today is not the day. Today may be the day to suffer, or to merely "go through the motions." Though it feels so terrible and so uncomfortable and bad, you are exactly where you need to be to heal. My first 14 months were very emotionally unbearable. I barely remember anything of the first 3-5 months. At about 2 years, I started to feel really good feelings again. It takes so much time. It's such a huge blow. It's beyond description, to lose the most important person and your future and your day-to-day life.... It's a complete obliteration. It's all been burned to the ground. People say "be patient with yourself," and it's so hard because you have to live all these seconds and moments and weeks and events and lonelinesses and sadnesses, etc. When I think back (from 5+ years out), I think of myself with such compassion: I lost years of my life to mourning. Ages 32-34 are just gone to me. And I think of you all with that same compassion. Life is full of sorrow, and before and after (and sometimes even during), with good things too. I'll stop babbling.... I'm wishing you solace.

Also, to the original poster in case you come back (and anyone else who loves to read), I just read a great book. It's the second book in a 6-volume memoir called My Struggle by Karl Ove Knaussgaard. He's a Norwegian writer who writes, in these volumes, about the minutiae of daily life and thought. The second book focuses on the early days of parenthood, struggling with the need/desire for solitude and freedom and creative work, with the relentless duties/responsibilities of domesticity. You may enjoy it. I loved it.

Tough love is one thing. Condescension is another. Also, and I'm sure I'm going to take some heat for this, but MANY people never wanted to be parents and then were - and then were FINE parents, and by fine I don't mean adequate, I mean great. I think we're in an age now when honesty about parenting is becoming closer to the norm. It's not all rosy love all the time - sometimes it's extreme frustration and it can really break you down and make you want to run screaming. There's nothing wrong in admitting this - in fact, for me, it helps me to get it out, it helps me be a better mom to be like OMG WTF this is the WORST!!!!! My mom calls her early days of raising me and my brother and sister "the dark days," and "life interrupted," and she wasn't a widow or a single mom, she was just a regular lady with a husband and three kids. She was an AWESOME mom and we had exceptionally happy childhoods - she was not some selfish @$$hole who scarred us by (gasp) having an identity and wishes and needs and frustrations of her own. She was inspiring by wanting more. She was a full person, not just a pawn fulfilling a role. We all are, and there is nothing wrong in being a full person with identities and wishes apart from parenthood, and in having negative feelings about feeling trapped at times by duties and responsibilities - who doesn't crave freedom and independence and solitude? (I suppose I should've said at the beginning that I didn't read the original post, so if the original poster said he was about to murder his kids or abandon them to their own devices in the woods, I withdraw my support hahahaha. If he was just venting, as I am wont to guess he was, then I don't think it's all that serious.)

DH and I got along really well together too, and Widower BabyDaddy and I do not. It's taken a couple years and great effort on both our parts to decrease the level and frequency of our conflict. I have no wisdom or advice, or at least not at this moment, but I do have lots of sympathy. It is hard. I hope it gets easier for you two, and continues to for me. xo

Oh hon. This is so painful. I know because, in different circumstances, I have been there. And I'll tell you my little story just in case it helps you feel better, you know - the solidarity, that someone gets it. Before DH died, I wasn't very close with his family but he was. When he died, I clung to them - after all, his parents and I were The Ones whose lives were devastated to the utmost, and so the three of us, we made sense together. I made it a habit to go there every Saturday afternoon. We'd sit together and talk and cry and eat lunch and have tea. It was a big part of my healing, I think, to be with them. We'd all go out to the cemetery together once a month, all together, then each take turns at the grave alone. We had a system, it all made sense. A few months in, we were sitting together and she told me, "We want you to have someone to take care of you when you're sick. We want to dance at your wedding." It came out of nowhere, and DH and I had been magically happy together (I was one of those who thought they would never again be with anyone or have feelings for anyone again), and it hit me so hard - I instantaneously burst out sobbing, and sort of slid onto the floor, with my head on her lap. Fast forward a couple years, and, without thinking it ever possible, I found I had feelings, and found myself in a relationship, and then became pregnant and was going to move to be with him. They were incredibly supportive and loving (his mom demanded to see photos and was like, "Oooooo, he's CUTE!" It was adorable.) But then I moved. And then I had a baby. And when I'd go visit, they'd be busy. Finally, when my daughter was a year, I was visiting and told them I'd be around and would love to see them, and DH's mother told me she was too depressed to see me. Ok, I get it. But mind you, this is the woman with whom I laid in bed randomly because we were both too sad to go for walks after lunch and just gave up on being awake. We took care of each other when we were both at our lowest. So depression was never anything in the way. I was hurt. I was angry. They were my family, in some ways even more than my own, for a couple years at least. To be an outsider among them just hurt too badly, and I couldn't continue reaching out and reaching out and being hurt. (They also are very passive, and they did not call me once since I'd left. I know it's "just the way they are," but ouch.) So I haven't spoken to them in almost a year now. And you know what? It sucks more in theory than in actuality. I miss the idea of having them, but I don't necessarily miss them. (I know - I'm a horrible person.) I think about writing them a letter sometimes, reopening relations. But the biggest part of me thinks that we all served a purpose for each other that had a time and a place, and I can't keep chasing that. They were supposed to my child(ren)'s grandparents, but they're not. They were his family, but they aren't him. They don't keep him here in the world, and being in touch with them doesn't bring him closer to me (or vice versa). They loved me as long as I was convenient and helpful and we were all in shock and despair. And now I'm irrelevant. And that's ok. So I know how much it hurts. But I also know how freeing it can be to let go. I hope it proves to be like that for you if you find there is no "going back."

You're doing great, under such hard circumstances. It sounds like you're making a bunch of small-ish decisions that are healthy and positive and good for you that are slowly adding up to life changes and better feelings. I hope you have more and more good days and more opportunities to do things that bring you enjoyment. Wish I could hang out with you!!!

I'm glad this retreat helped you see it's her, not you. Remember that and carry it inside you for future reference.

Jen, my heart breaks for you as I read this and I can feel your frustration. I had nothing like your responsibilities, but at about two years out, I said to myself out loud, "I need a huge change." A few months later, I got it. I hope you find a way to cause some major change, or find some small ways to get what you need - it sounds like, as my therapist put it to me a few weeks ago: "This lifestyle isn't tenable. It's as if you're starving. You need to feed yourself." If only doing it were as easy as saying it!!!! I don't know the answer, but I am thinking of you with lots of love and compassion.

Her needs are not more important than yours. Whatever you decide, I hope you'll take care of your own feelings as well as you are trying to take care of hers.

So beautiful.

It doesn't sound non-productive to me at all. It sounds like lots of work of the most important kind. Go you!

Oh hon. It was 5 years ago for me, and yet your post brings it rushing back. My DH was also 28 (but I was 32). Like you, it didn't even cross our minds that we wouldn't have decades of more time together. People were also telling me I was so young and would "find someone." (In my mind, I'd be like, "But I can't find HIM!!!!! He's not here. He's the only person in the world who is not here and he's the only one I want.") I didn't want to move on either. I didn't want time to pass, because I felt it divided us more. It's a strange thing because you can't bear the pain, and yet you don't want to feel better either. It took me what I felt was a long time to feel better. It was two years before I started to feel alive and like "myself" again, but there will always be a part of me that will never be the same/whole, in my opinion. (I now have a daughter with a widower, so I did "find someone," but that is totally separate from losing DH and doesn't make what happened ok.) I went to synagogue a lot after he died. It gave me ritual - clinging to ritual really helped me. I did many things to pay tribute to him, things that were particular to him and me, like having a plaque put on a bench in the park where we read and strolled and went jogging, planting a garden shaped like a heart in his honor, learning Hebrew (his native language), etc., etc. It brought me comfort until I was ready to start rebuilding my own life and my own world again. I'm thinking of you. I hope you'll find little moments of solace and comfort each day.

Oh gosh. Sigh. I did a LOT of "nodding and smiling" and also a lot of "are you kidding me?" in the first few months. People say the craziest things, things divorced from all sanity and sensitivity. F what everyone thinks, F the shoulds. What kind of example of emotional health would it be to show your daughter that the most important person in your life can suffer and die and you can just brush your hands off and carry on bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? I'm sorry. Glad you found us. Vent away. You can feel however you feel here. We all get it.

I can certainly relate to this duality

I did the 5-year in April, timeline friend. Thinking of you. I hope that you will somehow find a new(er), more satisfying normal. Five years is a strange time I've found. Half a decade - it is so long and it's gone so fast too. It's all just strange. DH no longer seems real to me, he's inaccessible. I'm sending you lots of love.

Yayyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's so hard to process this huge awful thing without the person who helps you process everything. I kept wanting to talk to DH about how DH had died and living without him - makes no sense logically, but makes perfect sense emotionally.

Change is hard for kids. But kids are also so resilient. I hope her entry into the new school goes smoothly. I can really relate to planting yourself back where you wanted out. I returned to the area where I grew up when I got pregnant - the place I spent my whole life up to 18 trying to escape. And now I'm raising my daughter here. It's funny how you see it differently, see the good in it, once you've left.... "Who says you can't go home?" Good luck! Look forward to hearing all about this new adventure for you and your family.

Weekends were the hardest for me, as I believe they were for many. Lots of empty time that you used to so look forward to spending together. I think creating some weekend rituals probably helps. I did. Friday nights were really hard for me - we used to rush home in excitement. So I never headed straight home from work. We are Jewish, so I went to Friday night synagogue to say the mourner's prayer for him (even though I don't believe in Gd - but he did, so I did it to honor him). It gave me that sense of somewhere to go, a ritual (sorry I keep using that word so much). Saturday mornings, I went to the gym to a really hard class and worked out. I'd try to spend as much time outside as possible - I'd either walk for hours (I lived in NYC at the time) or I'd go sit by the river or in the park, usually reading or writing. Sometimes I'd meet a friend. I'd visit his parents for a couple hours and have lunch or tea with them and be sad together. On Sundays I'd go running and take long walks, get manicures, read, write, think, again: try to be outside in the sun a lot. I'd try to make Sunday brunch plans with a friend, or I'd go to the movies alone or with a friend on Saturday evenings. The weekends are kind of microcosms of our life in grief at the beginning: we need to reenvision our life without DH/DW and we are not ready to. We have time to fill and we don't know what to do with it. We don't know what we WANT to do, we don't know what to do without them. I'm thinking of you (all) and sending tons of love and hope and solace.

Being good at anything is mainly about familiarity and experience. Give yourself some time, some patience. It's a big adjustment. Breakups are like withdrawals/detox. Thinking of you!!!!

I'm sorry you and your daughter have to carry this. But I'm so glad that the get together with BF's family went well.

I'm a lawyer too. I went back after a week and a half. I worked in a large office, though, so my bosses allowed me to do a lot of behind-the-scenes work. It's very hard being "on" and performing and interacting a lot in the early days/months. I have no advice but a lot of sympathy. It *does* get easier to function over time, though some days are harder than others.

Nous comprenons. The feelings you express - we understand them perfectly. I'm so sorry for your tremendous loss. You shared a great, beautiful love. I felt just how you feel - I could have written nearly every sentence (except I was 32 and he was 28). It hurts so badly. I'm sorry you have to go through this. We are all here for you.

Good luck! And have a great hiking weekend. We just did a couple little trips - beginning of the season, yay!

I agree. A critical element of friendship is loyalty. Even if she thought these things about you, she should have kept them to herself or talked to YOU about it, not publicized it to people whose interests and actions are clearly against you. I don't believe there's anything to salvage or ANY need to justify any actions or non-actions with regard to this person. (Only possible exception to my opinion is if these are lies, then perhaps give her the chance to say that.)