Michael797

TooSoon is correct; I second the melatonin recommendation. My bottle was 5 mg caps, and I ended up taking two of them every night - pretty much knocked me out. I stopped taking them because of grogginess during the day (I'm a teacher and can't afford to be out of it in front of a class of hungry wolves). Your mileage is going to vary, so maybe ask the pharmacist - but damn near every place that sells vitamins has it. Read up a bit, though, please. You might want to consult a doctor as well - Ambien is often prescribed, but all it does is knock you out; when the pill wears off in four hours, you pop right back up. Not recommended for long-term use, either. Have a talk with a pharmacist you trust about melatonin. And keep posting - somebody here will have an answer to damn near any question you can ask.

Ditto. That was the ugly part I didn't want to mention. I came home to find out I had that night to get everything I owned out of the place. Long story, don't want to tell it. Nobody knows. Do you have any allies at work - someone who you can at least count on to understand? You'll need at least one. Got that. No magic wand, truly sorry. You have a lot to process and not much to work with. All I can say is that if I got through it, you can too. What I'm NOT going to tell you is that it takes time. About a week after the horror struck, I found myself at a Barnes & Noble scouring every book on grief I could find. The author of one book in particular mentioned that if all it took was time, you could go to bed for about two years, wake up, and it would all be over. But you do need allies, folks you can vent to pretty much any old time. We can do that here, but communication on the board is asynchronous - there will always be a delay of some kind. It would be better to have real-time, on-demand support if you can get it. If not - well, we'll cross that bridge when you get to it. Check back as often as you need - some of us "vets" are on newbie alert, so we'll do what we can as we can.

In keeping with our sporadic and frequently pointless attempts at public service, Radio Hell International would like to provide you with an end-of-season weather report. As summer draws to a close, we find that it's not going gentle into that good night - it's leaving with a final blast of oppressive heat and humidity. But within the next few days, we'll be noticing the change in temperature; fall appears to finally be on its way. And so the subtle stirrings have begun in the widow community; widows, as you know, are sort of a mega-barometer when it comes to changing seasons. The end of summer marks cooler weather, true - but it also begins the long, grotesque crawl to and through the dreaded "helliday" season. And signs of the discontent are beginning to manifest here and there; the kiddies are all heading back to school, parents' attentions are shifting accordingly - and now us wids are again faced with too much time to ponder how little progress many of us have made in the aftermaths of our tragedies. With this in mind, RHI is going to propose the one thing that made all of the difference in the world since we've opened up shop a year ago - bagos! We're currently attempting to brew one up for Halloween weekend in NYC if we can get enough buy-in. Watch this station and the Meetings forum for more information. But there's no need to wait for us to get our act together - we strongly encourage listeners to engineer one or more of them as well. They truly make all the difference in the world. If you need more information, feel free to ask here and we'll get the best minds on the board to give you the correct answers. The bottom line is that it's time to start prepping for the inevitable. RHI intends to do its part to ensure no wid is left behind. Share your thoughts with us - together we can continue to achieve the impossible.

I saw my fianc?e's body at 7:30 am. By 10 am, I was at school teaching a full day of classes. I honestly didn't know what else to do with myself. I remember absolutely nothing from that day; the horror continued when I got back home, but that's another, equally ugly story. You're pretty much in auto-pilot mode right now - the shock sort of overrides any rational thought. You're moving through time fairly mechanically, wondering whether it's some sort of horrible nightmare, half expecting a hundred people to come bursting through a door yelling "Surprise!" You are destined to get through this, as all of us are. Most of us still wonder why it happened to us, none of us got a choice. But you are now on "widow radar" and the more you post or vent or rage or scream, the easier it is for us to find you and look after you. If the outside world takes its good old time to understand what you're going through (and it just might), we hear you loud and clear. If you feel yourself falling, one or more of us will catch you. If you feel like you're losing your mind, we have a lost and found section and someone probably already turned it in. There is nothing you could feel or say that could shock us, but we're there to weep with you and for you. Little by little, it starts to help. For now, all bets are off. Do whatever you need to - we'll back you. That's how it's done.

To Fran (and any other newbies who found the place) - from a soon-to-be-14-month veteran. For whatever it might possibly be worth, here's what I would have wanted someone to say to me when it all fell apart: Anything, anytime, anywhere, whatever you need or feel like you need or don't need or anything else - just ask. Just ask. Even though you paid your admission with your dearest blood, you have just joined an army a thousand times stronger than the Marine Corps. I am living proof of this. It's coming on a year now since I joined, and I can say without any exaggeration that the wids I met literally dragged me out of the depths of hell. To all of them, I am eternally grateful, and I can count all of them as my dearest friends and inner circle. None of it got easier in 14 months, but I've learned that I never have to be alone - EVERYONE else here understood each meltdown. Nothing was too insane for them. Death united us - I can't say any of us would agree that it made us stronger, but it did make us a formidable force. If it is my turn to try to give something back, I welcome the opportunity. Rant, vent, scream, whatever - you are not only allowed, you are supported completely. And my apologies if I've been remiss in checking in lately - but the seasons are changing and I sense a strong disturbance in the force. It's clearly time to be mindful of those who grew to mean so much to me. Old and new alike, if I can be of help, I will be. The word of a widow is unbreakable. So - how may I be of assistance?

Greetings, loyal listeners. Our first official broadcast is sort of a cautionary tale ? one of those ?Don?t try this at home? things. As always, you?re cordially invited to seek some actual help in another thread. Sometimes these things just need to be aired, but that doesn?t mean you have to breathe it in. Feel free to move on. For a bit of backstory ? I?m one of those folks you read about in the papers, caught in the crossfire of the American Recession. I lost a pretty good job back in 2010 and could only manage to find part-time work as a teacher at a school where the students don?t actually want to learn. The hours are appalling, the pay is terrible, and the environment is openly hostile ? but at the ripe old age of 58, I?m not exactly on anyone?s ?must have? list. America doesn?t much honor the elderly. So along comes the opportunity to take our broadcast to Europe (undying thanks to Jenni for making this a reality). And for a few days I find myself in the company of some incredible people. It?s odd how, looking back, there wasn?t a huge amount of talk about our grief; what it mostly consisted of was ample amounts of laughter combined with some of the most extraordinary surroundings one could ever find. It was uplifting, exhausting, and exhilarating; for those few days, I actually got to feel like myself again. And then it ended ? and I now find myself having to be that ?other guy? once more, the one for whom there is no sympathy, no understanding. For those few magical days I was surrounded by safety and companionship. Now what I?m feeling isn?t jet lag ? it?s just that old familiar loneliness. This isn?t a cry for help so much as sort of a warning: widow-bagos can provide a necessary means of escape from your sadness. But they have to end, and you may suffer a touch of boomerang effect in the aftermath. The only cure is the next bago. So what?s the moral here? There isn?t one, sorry. Widowhood continues to suck. And that was, and remains, the business model of Radio Hell. It really only goes away when you build yourself a whole new life. For some of us, it takes longer than for others. Maybe you should try to fight your grief long enough to do something about your life before it starts to feel like it might be too late. So we?re back ? and now is a good time, as always, to turn to the ?All Taylor Swift all the time? station. TTFN from Radio Hell.

Boy, are you gonna be sorry about that! First transmission goes live in 3... 2... 1....

Dear loyal listeners and newbies alike: Radio Hell is coming back on the air. After an extended (and pretty miserable) hiatus, we're taking to the airwaves once again (largely because we can't reach some of you any other way - and we've missed you). Having hit the one year mark, we're re-opening up shop to take your requests and provide you with lots of (mostly useless, but occasionally accurate) information to help you while away those long, desperate hours. One big change in our format - we may call upon veteran listeners to provide us with their updates and wisdom. It's very simple, folks - nobody gets out of this by themselves. As always, it is our hope that you'll never have to come again - but just in case you do, we'll be here. Our first broadcast is a heartfelt shout-out to all the Euro-Wids who were present at Euro-Widow-Bago Amsterdam 2015. Much love to: Jenni Tweety76 Helen Aicha Gracelet Ursula and dear Injo So you've been warned - Radio Hell is back. Now get out!

As zero hour approaches, it seems appropriate to leave a final comment before the trip. Eternal gratitude to the Euro-Wids for turning an impossible fantasy into reality. Extra-special thanks to Jenni for everything. For those who wanted to come but couldn't, you'll be with us every second. I'm hoping that you'll all help me keep my wits in line. I'm a bit out of practice with my debauchery and keep having visions of waking up Sunday morning wondering who shit in my pants while I was sleeping. I still can't believe it, but I'm going to do my damndest to try. Amsterdam, here we come!

What could be worse than having someone try to scam you? Falling for it, my guess. Look, I don't think any of us here are feeling at the top of their games, and none of us deserve to be where we are (except the ones who found happiness again - my deepest congratulations). I'm going to go ahead and be grateful that your little nightmare was stopped in its tracks. All I can do is attempt to channel my rusty old Yoda powers and try to get at least a few stars to align and GIVE YOU A BREAK. Let me know if it works.

I'm going to have to second that emotion. I sort of have a non-mainstream approach to widowhood being a hetero guy and all, which means I don't have to go through the same crap that our female wids have to. By the same token, I'm fiercely protective of the vulnerable (and was that way even before I got introduced to the wide world of wids). Weird conditions being placed on contact traditionally suggests unavailability, and there's no shortage of deception on the web. And the last thing I could ever condone is seeing any of my board-mates go through something just as bad or worse than what they've already been through. You've proven yourself to be a very sweet, very caring person. It's one thing to try to catch lightning in a bottle again (I fell for it at least once), but I've learned that it can put you back even further than you are. If it's not flag-free, it's not worth it anymore. Wouldn't you agree?

Grace, honey - I was already planning on recording your activities for a documentary.

Assuming that, as we'll all be in the same hotel, we may have at least one pajama party or something (knowing full well that I'll wind up sleeping in the bathtub), maybe we can collectively compose a report for the board during the trip.

Report from the field: British Invasion Bago The rain held out just long enough for the festivities to proceed in full swing. In attendance ? a veritable ?Who the hell are you?? of widow-dom: TooSoon & adp (our wonderful hosts) Lmsmdm & Don (their accomplices) Singinmomo4 LisaPop MissingSquish MeAndTheKids IMissDow SoVerySad Wheelerswife (gracing us on the first stop of her Widow World Tour 2015) KeepTrying QuoVadis BlueMoon15 Biscuit (so very glad you could come) And a boatload of kids ? all surprisingly sweet Deepest thanks to rifatheroffour for the gracious, generous, and quickly non-existent donation of a box of his famous chocolates. This reporter had to spit on his so one of the kids wouldn?t snatch it out of my hand. Conversations soon filled the air, punctuated by the occasional shrieks of children heavily armed with sparklers. Food was plentiful as always; everyone breathed sighs of relief upon the realization that the mac & cheese puff-things had survived the arduous trip from Long Island. The proceedings took a solemn turn as the female wids formed a circle to perform their traditional sharing of forbidden secrets. Despite this reporter?s attempts to disrupt the proceedings by shouting ?Hey, it?s Liam Neeson!?, nothing could deter these wids from performing their rituals. So Mote It Be. As proof that some things can actually end well, the events concluded with copious heartfelt hugs and promises, all of which will no doubt be kept. The Marines continue to wish they had the fortitude of our beloved wids. As always, this reporter?s recommendation regarding widowbagos is ?Attend one, create one, do anything you can to make it to one.? Next stop ? Amsterdam!

It would be REALLY nice to meet you. Bagos are one of the most misunderstood things in the endless list of misunderstood things about widowhood; for me, they function more like a day off from grieving than anything else. I hope you can come; you'll be in excellent company.

Is it ok to start getting excited about this yet? I'm still amazed that I'll get to meet all of you.

Nothing to be nervous about. I've been there before and only needed minor medical treatment. ;D

Ported over from Facebook by request. The Top 10 Ways (or so) I Could Conceivably Cause an International Incident: 1. Get so wasted that I attempt to eat a tourist who my hallucinations (and munchies) convince me is made out of chocolate. 2. Scream at the Consulate for not receiving a complimentary pair of wooden shoes. 3. Stick my finger in a dike - only to find that I've used the wrong spelling. 4. Carry a lance up to a windmill while humming "The Impossible Dream." 5. Demand to see the kid on the paint cans. 6. Announce that I'm allergic to tulips and decree that every single one be uprooted and burned. 7. Insist that "Naw, vunst" is a perfectly appropriate Dutch expression. 8. Complain that today's Dutch women are lazy because I haven't seen a single one carrying two pails on a yoke. 9. Rant about Hitler and Nazis, proclaming that where I come from, German or Dutch makes no damn bit of difference. 10. Exclaim "Bicycles are for wussies - gimme a Mo-ped!" 11. Stagger up and down the Rossebuurt at 3 am singing "Roxanne" at the top of my lungs. 12. Ask of the hotel conceirge "Is there anything here that's the correct goddamm voltage?"

After jumping through several hoops (some I didn't think I'd fit through) and correcting several bureaucratic errors (at one point my birth certificate said I was my own father), I have successfully submitted the passport application. Amsterdam has approximately six weeks to get ready for the invasion.

There hasn't been a single day that I haven't been flooded with thoughts, questions, guilt, and regret. I can't imagine how anyone could possibly think I could ever just get over it.

Dear folks, I regret to inform that, due to SVS having yet another reason to be sad (her bil passed away), she will be unable to attend the Hershey bago tomorrow. With that in mind, we're postponing until a better time. On the plus side, we can get caught up at the June bago at TooSoon's. Sincere apologies for any inconvenience, hoping to see everyone next month. Feel free, however, to send condolences to SVS, who could no doubt use some at this time.

Truly sorry about the slap; it was never my intention to hurt you.

WARNING: The following post is a RANT. If you're heavy into Christianity, you DON'T WANT TO READ IT. If, however, you enjoy being offended, you'll LOVE the post. Regardless, you've been warned. The following is a transcription of a recording made during a Monday morning meeting in God?s enormous board room. It was uncovered in the aftermath of a total destruction of the room. Acolyte: ?morning, Your Highest of Highs. God: (coughs) These Hofner cigars?ll kill me. (roars with laughter) So, what?cha got for me today? Acolyte: Well, first there?s the whole Afghanistan thing?. God: They?ve got plenty of guns, haven?t they? Let ?em kill each other ? I?ll sort ?em out later. (laughs) Free will?s a bitch, ain?t it? Acolyte: Um, yes Sir. America, as always, has a lot going on. Any thoughts on the gay/lesbian issue? God: Look, I could care less who loves who. But let?s keep it interesting ? are Huckabee and Santorum still doing their ?voice of God? routines? Acolyte: Oh, yes ? they?re quite convinced that the voices in their heads are Yours. God: You know, sometimes I feel a bit guilty about letting those false prophets think they speak for Me ? then again, long and hard is the way, eh? (chortles) Acolyte: Good one, Your Most Supreme. God: Keep ?em coming ? so far it?s a pretty light day. Acolyte: Anything more to add on the meek and the poor? God (getting angry): I already TOLD everyone ? they?ll inherit the earth. What?s left of it, anyway. Acolyte: Anything you?d like to do for the widows? They?re pretty deep in despair. God: There are already plenty of My books around; what?s wrong with letting them read until they join their spouses? It?s a big book ? should keep ?em all busy for a while. Acolyte: What about this Michael797 guy? God (screams): That piece of shit? I?d like to fucking?. (sounds of furniture being thrown about the room, walls being broken, antiques being smashed, etc.) End of recording.

Frighteningly well-put. Thank you for sharing, and sorry you can relate.

Submitted for your consideration, a cautionary tale that might well be subtitled ?What to expect during the second six months of widowhood,? provided in an attempt to help an uninitiated newbie sort of navigate their way around Hell. File this one under ?places to avoid? on your tour. Veteran wids frequently advise that things get much worse before they get better; as it turns out, they?re correct. Is it possible to determine why this hellish little prophecy is accurate? Here?s one observation, based on personal experience. The first six months of widowhood are little more than a blur of despair, confusion, and loss of any sort of direction. And therein lies a problem that leads to the situation getting worse; ultimately, whether you like it or not, you?re going to have to somehow invent or construct a completely different life from the one that got snatched away from you. But during the first six months, the likelihood that you?re going to have the presence of mind to prepare for any sort of future beyond your current agony is profoundly slim. You?re just not there in any capacity. Meanwhile, everyone you ever thought cared about you is already distancing his/herself from you. Whether they?re uncomfortable with death or they simply don?t think you?re going to be any fun anymore, people are bailing out of your life in droves. Before very long, you could suddenly find yourself quite alone and isolated. Now, six to nine months later, you?re suddenly waking up to realize that an immense hole currently occupies the place where the new life you were supposed to be building should?ve gone. You?re further likely to discover that no intervention, divine or otherwise, is going to drop out of the sky to provide you with any sort of miracle, and you?re alone in ways you couldn?t have seen even in your nightmares. Welcome to the Second Level of Hell ? you didn?t see it coming but you ended up there just the same. Perhaps you find yourself scrambling to inject meaning into your life; you attempt to find company, someone to ?avoid the void? with. Good luck with that ? desperation emits a smell that repels people at light speed. The more desperate you become for contact with another human, the more likely you?ll wind up like The Omega Man. Life is peppered with cruel little jokes like this one. Could this have been avoided? Possibly ? but if time travel existed, you?d probably choose to return to a time where you could prevent your lover?s passing away. But, of course, life doesn?t work that way; you?re still stuck with the check. I currently find myself in a place where reinvention of my life is painfully slow-going, and the help desk is apparently closed until further notice. Please don?t let this happen to you; if you detested your job, begin looking for another one in spite of your grief. If you live in a hostile environment, plan to relocate as soon as you can. You can choose to future-proof your despair, or you can find yourself slowly sinking deeper into the abyss. Don?t leave the rest of your life up to a higher power that has no intention of showing up; the only thing you can truly rely on is what?s left of your free will.