MrsMisterman

Maybe not work, but my chosen career? I don't know if I'm cut out for it anymore. I'm still like a bleeding baby gazelle after almost 3 years. And Government work/ kinda politics is no place to be showing an open wound. Before. Before the bottom of my world fell out, I came home to a happy love bubble. Always made everthing OK. I also had the fierce motivation to keep the income train rolling. My DH was worth every sling and arrow. My late mother-in-law always would say "you make money like a man". Never figured out if it was a compliment or a condemnation. I knew how to work and succeed as a wife. No f-ing clue how to manage it as a widow with no motivation. So Widda.org. Any one feel the same? Anyone have advice?

In my first 6 (maybe 9 months) of widowhood, I just could not watch TV or movies. Just couldn't focus long enough to follow any type of plot progression or dialog. But I could read. So what if I had to re- read a paragraph 3 times, or re read a chapter the next day because my widda brain rejected retaining basic information? I think I went through the entire Boston Public Library young adult section. The more futuristic and dystopian the better. Everything you cited and more. Barely remember titles. Forest of Hands and Teeth, Knife of Never Letting Go. Surviving a really scary future made my scary future not so scary. I would throw in some heartbreaking teenage angst too for a change of pace. 13 Reasons Why, if I stay, Fault in Our Stars. A friend and fellow widow here used to tease me that a bespeckled Libraian was going to show up on my door or send the police for a well-being check. Expecting to find a depressed teen girl. Nope. Just a 48 year old heartbroken widow.

My husband and I had a hundred million pet names for each other. While I sometimes called him by his real name, he rarely used mine. So much so, when he said my given name, I stopped in my tracks. I knew what he wanted to say to me was important. Serious. Demanding of my full attention. "Mister" was one of my playful names for him. It became "Mister Man" when I wanted added emphasis. I thought about using one of his nicknames for me as a screen name. But I wanted it about him and my relationship to him. MrsMisterman was born.

(((SVS))) Your post resonated so much with me. I feel like you reached into my head this morning and wrote down all my feelings. I'm going on 3 years next month, and the feelings of longing for what was and mourning the loss of what should have been are still so strong for me.

A few months after my husband passed in 2012, I got around to the pile of mail that took up half my kitchen island. There was an angry looking bill. All stamped in red letters: OVERDUE. REPO PENDING. It was addressed to a company my husband liquidated years before. It was from an industrial supply company. Rental fee for some type of cylinder tank. What the feck? Didn't they know I was a widow? With widow brain? On top of it a Poopie Head Girlie? After losing my mind and freaking out for days over nothing, I search and realized it was for the argon gas tank for the mig welder he had in our garage. The Tale of the Tank Year Zero- now that I know what the bill is for, can't deal with this shit. Pay fee. Year One- Ut Oh. Cylinder is secured with chain and padlock. Can't stand the thought of going into all his hidey places looking for key. Pay fee. Year Two- no clue where key is. Maybe next year I will be so confident and secure I'll just fire up that welder and slice thru that damn chain. Ha! I am woman hear me roar thru the welder helmet. Pay fee. Year Three- I shouldn't have to know how to use a welder MFuc#%^^* No good #%^^{ Arrggh! Pay fee dejectedly.

Interesting food for thought. Like Little Birdie, my family 'role models' for widowhood remained single. They were all older though. Widowhood was viewed as a temporary state that must be endured with grace for a few months- couple years tops- until they too passed and could rejoin their spouses in whatever lays beyond this world. No one in my family was widowed young. My husband's family had a few. ( That should have been a clue) But, ya know, they are my inlaws, hence crazy. No role models there. Most made very poor second choices they ended up regretting. I was 48 with decades before me. I was clueless. I'm still clueless almost 3 years later. Clearly, widowhood for me is not a small blip in my life 's timeline. What to do. What to do?

Thanks! That was very helpful.