Mizpah

I went back and forth in the early days from feeling conspicuous (maybe it was all the public crying), to feeling invisible, like the world was just something I was watching from a very strange, numb, painful, coma-like place, and not taking part in it.

Oh love, I'm so sorry. Healing begins now, or already began - in the beginning it feels like raw, unbearable pain. It is a very long journey, with the most all-consuming part right now. Your grief is eating you alive, you feel dysfunctional - you ARE dysfunctional. It's ok. It took many months for me to feel close to human. What Justin said is exactly right - minute by minute, basic needs. Hydrate. Take care of your son to the best of your abilities. Take advantage of offers of assistance. Cry when you need to. Talk when you need to. Be silent when you need to. The people here are walking next to you and ahead of you on this widow road, and we hear you and know the feelings that are overwhelming you. Do you have health insurance? Therapy is the best thing I ever did for myself. It obviously can't change your circumstances, but it can help you process it and help you live with it and just let you get it out, be a haven. I hope that the goodness of who he was and the love you shared will be like a little light inside you, even in your darkest moments. I'm thinking of you.

Her livelihood deriving from being a widow doesn't make her less a widow, or less capable of having valuable insight, to me. Fitness is her job, so working out 8 hours a day and having nannies doesn't seem that different than me being in my office while my baby is at daycare. (Difference is, her job makes her feel awesome.) Her personal decisions are irrelevant to the value of her article, in my opinion. Edited to say: working out long and hard is one of the only things that kept me sane during early widowhood. Maybe it's a luxury that others resent (for me I was childless, and it wasn't a luxury I wanted), but that, to me, is grief competition and pointless.

Despite lots of people hating on her, this article is lovely. https://www.scarymommy.com/wont-return-widow-membership-card/

So beautiful. It feels so good to be out there in beauty and naturalness. I love that you dedicated a spot to Cindy. http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/06/how-walking-in-nature-prevents-depression/397172/

Thinking of you. Three years. It's unbelievable.

The slogging sucks, no doubt about it. We're all here to cheer you on, either from further on down the path or right next to you.

Thinking of you. Year two is rough. The rawness is gone, and you kind of look around and are like, "Huh. This is my life. Now what do I do?" You have to rebuild. But you don't know how or where to start or what to fill it with. My second year was lots of classes, lectures, gym time, running, reading, spending time outside, etc. It felt lonely and empty, even though I tried to reenter the social world too. Lots of going out with friends. I even forced myself to date someone casually (I wasn't interested but did it anyway). There was a lot of wondering, for me, if this would be the rest of my life. With nothing to look forward to. I felt like I'd sort of achieved all of the goals I'd had, and didn't know what to work toward next. At around my two-year mark, I went on a trip by myself to the Middle East. It really brought me back to life. I hadn't realized how dead I'd been feeling until I suddenly felt euphorically alive. I have no advice, just lots of sympathy and solidarity.

Wonderful! Awesome! So happy!

Check it out. From one who was a big (involuntary) public crier back in the early days/weeks/months, this makes me feel awesome. I totally agree. http://www.powerofpositivity.com/why-crying-a-lot-means-youre-mentally-tough/ (It's from a website about positivity, a cultural obsession I think is major BS, but still. Good point/article anyway.)

I can feel the pain in your writing, and have so much sympathy/empathy/compassion. I too am terrible at breakups. And it sounds like you've done ALL you can do and more to try to make this work and show him you care and don't want it to end. One of the worst parts of breakups for me is the powerlessness, which is also a horrible part of going through widowhood/loss. Before DH, I was in a relationship that lasted about seven years. He cheated and we broke up but remained in contact for a couple months, mostly to take care of practical details like our apartment, but it sometimes devolved into a painful discussion of what had occurred. After two months, I cut off contact. I recovered so much faster than I had been while we'd been in contact. When we'd been in contact, there was at least part of me that (against my own conscious will, because once someone cheats I'm done) used every contact to try to show him he should come begging back. Each communication had an agenda, though I certainly wouldn't have admitted it (to myself) back then - restoring his desire to want to be with me, making him see in me all the things that would make him think/feel/say: "What have I done? I was so stupid." My mother compares breakups to detoxing. The connection is addictive. The closeness is addictive. The feelings are addictive. The person is addictive. It takes a long time to detox. And suffering through is the only way. It was always the illogic that got me stuck in breakups and I would get stuck, in your shoes, on the whole "I want to heal and be in a healthy relationship but not with you" thing. It would occupy my mind forever, I'd need to understand, I'd spend hours and emotions and tears on trying to understand. Finally in my own breakup I had to adopt a mantra and say it over and over in my head until I detached myself emotionally from him: "He is irrelevant - I am my center." Because the breakup (not even the relationship - the breakup itself) had completely displaced me - my thoughts and feelings were obsessively centered either on him or in that space/relationship between us that I was completely fixated on. I had to re-center. Being with an adult victim of abuse is so hard (I say this from (current) experience). It's a totally different universe. And the person who is "normal" and able to love fully seems always to be the one suffering. And suffering so deeply. Maybe he's pushing you away so you don't eventually reject him. He knows it's him. You know it's him. But it hurts so much. I used to say about my ex that no matter what, I'd rather be me than him, even though I was the one suffering, because I was able to love/feel genuinely and deeply. I'm babbling and will stop. I'm thinking of you. You will feel better. You will. I wish you didn't have to hurt. Edited: I'd rather be ME than HIM!!!! Totally different thing!!!! Was saying that despite the rejection and hurt, I was the one who was capable of real, deep things.

All the things you said sound normal. How will you do it? Just like this. Painfully. In suffering. Agonizing. All of your feelings (anger, feeling like you have no identity, unstable, like you may be insane, like the nature of time has changed, like you no longer know anything) are totally normal for someone in our completely abnormal nightmarish situation - the early days especially. This journey is a very long one, and while getting through the next 60 may not hurt less, in time the pain DOES get less raw and less soul-searing, and you become more accustomed to living with it and far more functional. I'm sure this is of no help now when the pain feels so unbearable, but it's true and I hope you'll hang on to that, knowing that there are all of us cheering you on, who've been exactly where you are - I truly did not believe I could survive the pain. One day you will look back at this 30-days-out person with the greatest compassion and wish you could give your old self huge hugs and take away her pain. You can make it. You will make it. You feel stuck, like it's day one, but 30 days is (yes, an eternity to survive and endure but also) just the tip of the iceberg. Be patient with yourself. And as for strong, you are. Strength is facing your despair and letting it bowl you over. As for the thoughts of self-harm, I'm glad they were just thoughts and scared you and that you're going to therapy. I think we ALL had thoughts of wishing for relief from this, to join them, at times. I hope you will not act on any of it. You must live now for the both of you.

A random thing. A sad thing. I supervised attorneys down in the City before I moved upstate to have my double widow baby. I just found out yesterday that one of "my kids" (they really weren't much younger than me) died of colon cancer this week, at age 31. Before I found out how old he was, someone asked me. Assuming I knew, there was no doubt in my mind, I said, "28." Where did I get this? Why did I think this? I have no idea. It's like my brain just made it up with no basis whatsoever. DH died at 28. So obviously everyone who dies young did too.

Nightmare on top of nightmare. I'm so sorry. I hope you can reclaim this day for good, loving thoughts and a state of mind focused on him. I'm so sorry. How ugly.

I'm not saying you should go against your gut, but I will say that there are many aspects of myself and decisions post-widowhood that have surprised me. I find that you never know how you're going to react to a situation until you're in it, and things you never thought you'd do, sometimes you do, and that can be ok, and sometimes the best decision ever. But trust your gut.

I just wrote something all thought out and proofread and then it disappeared! Argh! The unfortunate thing (hahahaha - THE unfortunate thing???) about being a widow is that the only thing we can do about it is to suffer. I used to say I needed a vacation from myself, from my life. Eventually, I went on a regular vacation WITH myself, and something changed for me. It was at about two years out. The pain does get less acute. The breakdowns do happen less often. And no, you are not too old, unattractive, or baggage-laden to have love in your life again!!!!!! But suffering is our job a widows. There's no avoiding it. And it just sucks. But, from more than four years out, it does get less painful. Keep taking it as it comes - the good days and the bad days. I'm thinking of you and cheering you on.

I think it depends on your relationship history and your personality/values. To me, it's very important. I think chemistry and intimacy can create compatibility where there otherwise isn't as much. Just on a biological level, chemically, you produce oxytocin during physical intimacy, just like a mom with her baby. It's the bonding/love hormone. Sex is very powerful. My mom calls it the glue that holds two people together. That being said, it can certainly cloud things, and create attachment where there shouldn't be attachment, based on smarter concerns. Also, sex is fun and feels good, and each of us is as young as we are ever going to be right now, and to have a relationship with an unsatisfying sex life, whether it be quantity or quality, I just feel is a waste of a body, and so much of what we are is physical. Just my two cents.

That's the hard part. It's great to come here to talk about grief, but there's something about talking about THEM with people who knew them. Losing that over time, it just plain sucks.

Oh hon, if I could hug you through space (and myself back then through time!) I would. Everything you are thinking and feeling is totally normal. I believe it will always remain absolutely incomprehensible to you that he no longer exists. It does for me, and he's been gone more than four years. With time comes the ability to think of good memories more than death and the time immediately preceding it. My DH was killed in an accident, and for months, I obsessed over the last 24 hours. Not looking for anything, but just because that was the closest I could get to him, reliving it, remembering him alive so close in time. Anger at the elderly turned into, for me, angry at people who wail and moan on their birthdays about getting old ("Aging is a privilege! STFU!") You will not fail him. He chose you and would be proud of you for how you are surviving, for how you love him, for your honesty and bravery in facing your despair. I'm thinking of you.

This didn't happen to me, but did to a widow friend of mine. She felt like, after the ending, she was thrown back into the phase of grieving she was at when she began the new relationship. She'd been distracted from her grieving, thinking it was healing, but really it was just on pause, waiting for her. My advice should be taken with a grain of salt because I only know my own experiences, but I think that I emerged from grief feeling very strong, precisely because I grieved so hard. So my advice is delve into it. Maybe go to therapy, write if it's your thing, think about her, suffer, let yourself "go there." You may be more than a year out, but you may feel just three months out. (My boyfriend is a widower, and we got together less than a year out for him - I don't think he was ready. It damaged our relationship, and I believe his healing process. But no matter what, time goes on and healing DOES occur.) I think the fact that you sought out this place and reached out to us is a huge indicator that you are going to "be ok," because you want to and are actively trying. You don't want to be "stuck." Maybe that's "half the battle." (I'm speaking in cliches, oh well.) Loss hurts. Breakups hurt so bad. We discount that pain as widows, because we know a worse one, but breakups hurt so bad. I don't believe everything happens for a reason, but I do believe that people who don't stay in our lives can have served very valuable purposes. Maybe it was unbearable before and you needed someone/a distraction. Maybe now you feel thrown back into the early phase, but hopefully it's less raw and you're "stronger" (yuck word) to be able to face it.

I think it's totally normal for a while in the beginning, and maybe continuing for even years, to be bothered by stuff like this. My DH was hit by a car that was involved in an accident and went flying up onto the sidewalk and killed him. That common phrase, to throw someone under the bus, at first could bring me to tears and rageous anger, then made me bristle, then I just noticed it, and now I'm almost like everyone else in that it doesn't really affect me. It's different in many respects, I think, with those who were killed by a disease/condition, and suicide, but I know for me, it did lessen with time.

I don't know you at all, but have the hugest smile on my face looking at these photos and reading your words. I'm so so happy for you (all)!

Perhaps this is the birthday celebration/birthday gift. I know for me it's the greatest widow-related goal.

I'll write more at some point, but wanted to say: I love you people (including those who PM'ed me)! Your kindness, support, courage and wisdom never surprise me, but always increase my strength and clarity.

I work in Albany! And DH was 4 1/2 years younger. More to the point: who are these people that they have no idea where you live? So much for family! Everybody's got somethin' to say, huh?!