Jen

I love you all. I really, really do. :*) Thank you. Thank you. ((((((((HUGS)))))))))

I thought about you yesterday, Leslie. I'm sorry I wasn't able to come and post-- I was fighting my own grief wave. The tsunami has receded a little, and now we start the long march to the next month marker. We're still here... (((((((HUGS)))))))

Warning: meltdown ahead. I guess that's what it is... I was foolish enough to think that maybe I was past them. It seems like forever since I posted a thread. I haven't even been responding much lately-- I'm sorry for that. It's not that you haven't all been on my mind, I just haven't had the energy/time/motivation to write and say so. I could blame school or work or kids (or, realistically, all of the above), and it would be true... but it would seem... disingenuous. They say you can always make time for the things you really want to do, and this is no exception. So if I'm honest with myself, I haven't been spending as much time here because... I don't want to be here. There. I said it. I don't want to be here. I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Here. More to the point, I DON'T WANT TO BE A WIDOW. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of thinking about it, of my widowed state being my defining characteristic. I hate it. I hate that this is my life and nothing will ever, ever change it. I could meet Prince Freaking Charming tomorrow, he could sweep me off my feet and carry me away to his castle in the clouds, and I would *still* be a widow. I'm still Jim's Jen, and therefore I'm no one's. I will always and forever wear the big scarlet W. For awhile, this past month or so, I was almost okay with it. I've been dabbling in having some species of social life, spending time with people who either don't know I'm a wid, or have only ever known me as one and therefore don't see any great change. It's been kind of... freeing, getting to (re)define myself. I like the person I'm becoming, or maybe I like the person I've always been but was afraid to get to know. I've been brave, I've taken risks, I've stopped putting limits on myself (okay, maybe not entirely, but it's a work in progress). I've discovered things in me I never knew were there, and I've finally taken a good look at things I've avoided for years. I'm doing the work, damn it-- I'm not a slacker, I'm not in denial, I'm actively trying to learn to have a life, so isn't that enough??!? Do I get some kind of gold star from the universe, a get-out-of-hell-free card? No. No, I don't. Because I'm a wid, and as my dear friend Michael says, there are only two ways to stop being a wid: either they come back, or you join them. Neither of those things is happening, barring some tragic accident or dire diagnosis, so-- here I am, in hell. Still. Always. I've been crying again for the past couple days. My heart hurts, and it had gotten pretty quiet lately. There have been a few triggers-- my youngest son's birthday; a trip to a vacation spot we'd visited with Jim the first summer after we got married and hadn't been since; an announcement from my sister about her impending wedding (to a man named James) and the surprise pregnancy that's prompted it. All good things, but still... salt in a wound that's been making a valiant effort to close. I'm staying busy, I have things to do, and not a lot of time to sit and brood, but... I'm lonely. I'm sad. I can pretend all day long that I'm over it, but of course I'm not. I don't want to be this anymore. I'm grateful for every virtual hug I get, but I want a real one. I just want to be normal again. I want to feel safe and secure. I'm sick of trying to keep the panic at bay, at wondering if I'm too old and unattractive and baggage-laden for anyone to ever want to hold me. I don't want to do this anymore. Can't there be some kind of escape hatch, an exit clause, something? Can I turn in my wid card, please? Surely the trial period has ended by now. Can I call and cancel for a full refund? Or even a partial one? At this point I'd take a closed head injury and a case of amnesia. Please. Something. Just... let it be over. Let me wake up.

You don't suck. You're just fine. We do the best we can, and when we can do better, we do. Hugs.

So many hugs. I wish I had more to offer... something concrete, other than endless "I'm sorry's." They don't help. I know that, but I still am so, so sorry. That pain-- the feeling that every breath is a hot knife stabbing you-- It passes, it really does, though I'm sure that's hard to believe right now. One hour at a time... one minute... one agonizing breath. Just hold on. Hold on. (((((HUGS)))))

Exactly!! They make me feel cute and, well, alive-- in some weird inexplicable way. Like if I feel as though I'm still human enough and girlie enough to deserve nice jammies and knickers, maybe... maybe someday someone else will think so too. :-\

It's just nice to talk to people, I guess. Sometimes it feels like the loneliness will eat me alive. I'm not looking for a hookup or even a date, just someplace to hang out. I wish I didn't have to worry about it, but I know me well enough to know that if I don't make some sort of effort, I'll end up huddled in my hamster ball, alone except for a couple of stuffed animals that my kids insist on tucking in with me, forever and ever. I don't want to be alone. I'm tired of alone... Oh, son's friend's dad is divorced. He knows who I am-- when I finally figured it out, I said, "Oh! You're K's dad!" The light dawned: "You're G's mom!" Lol. His number was in my contact list because my son spends the night at his house once in awhile, so Kik put me on his "people you might know" list. I'd talked to him on the phone before, but we've never actually met. And he's a nurse too, although he works at the opposite end of the spectrum-- I take care of new moms and babies, he works in a nursing home. We've been commiserating over healthcare crap-- lousy staffing, long hours, not fabulous pay, and so forth. Something to do, I guess. Can I just scream now? THIS WID THING SUCKS.

This must be why I'm crying sporadically again throughout the day. No real reason, nothing I can point to, just... something in the air. Sigh. Glad it's not just me. Wish it didn't have to be any of us. Hugs and love, Jen

I just want to emphasize this. We get it. We don't want to, but we do. Keep talking. We're here, and we're listening. (((((((HUGS)))))))

Yup, the next Mr Jen has to want to sleep at least mostly nude. Much better for oxytocin production. In the meantime, buy ALL the adorable jammies!!

All right, I'm still on Shrek. This song-- well, Fiona's part at the beginning-- really resonates for me. I had my fairy tale, and it was a good story, but it ended. Now it's time to write a new one. "This is Our Story" :

I've been thinking about you.. low energy and not able to post much, but sending (((((((HUGS))))))

John, I'm so sorry for the loss of your beloved Karey, and for the loss of your new best friend as well. That's a lot to process, and I hope you will take all the time you need and be as gentle with yourself as you can. I think a lot of us look for new connections to ease the pain and the emptiness-- sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. There's no right or wrong, no judgment-- we all do the best we can with what we have, and no one gets to tell us how to wid! I'm glad you had a little space of peace and maybe some happiness, and I'm absolutely positive you will have it again. Just hold on... So many hugs to you. I'm so sorry you had to look for us, but glad you found us.

Hugs, hugs, and more hugs...

More hugs, hon. I've been thinking about you... about everyone, just at a low point and not able to post. But I'm still here, still reading, and still holding on. We got you.

This. This is the most valuable thing I can reinforce for you. (((((((((HUGS))))))))) We're here. We're not going anywhere, much as that thought hurts. We get it.

Okay... I'm branching into new and unexplored territory involving online socializing. I started reading Reddit, then posted a few times, and someone invited me to a chat group on Kik. I thought, What the hell, I have no life, and joined. It's been kind of nice (though it's a huge time suck, people talk ALL. THE. TIME), the room I've been in is just a place to hang out, no one trolling for anything. But people-- by which I mean men-- have started to PM me, and I don't even know how they're seeing my profile (all there is a screen name and a partial pic of my face). I got a list of "people you may know," a la Facebook-- I recognized my Economics professor from last fall, lol!! (I did not start a chat with him!) Another guy PM'd me, and because I was bored, I had a nice conversation with him-- after three days of occasional chats (I'm bored, how are you, fine, whatcha up to, anything interesting, how's the weather, work sucks, blah blah blah-- pleasant, nothing prurient!) I finally figured out that he's my son's best friend's dad! So here's my question: does anyone use Kik, and am I incredibly naive about it? Are people (including son's friend's dad) looking for hookups? I just want to talk to someone in real time once in awhile, and I don't have anybody. I'm lonely, that's all. By being on there, am I saying "I'm desperate and/or a tramp"?? UGH. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to have to wade through weirdos and creeps-- or my teenager's (thankfully divorced) parents-- to find someone. Can I just have my person back, please? That would make it all so much easier, and I could concentrate on things like raising my kids and getting through school...

I'll be perfectly honest: over the past year, I have strongly considered taking up smoking. The thing that has stopped me has been the cost. I don't blame you one bit, and I still have days when I think, Fuck, whatever will shorten my lifespan... bring it on. As far as quitting-- of course you can do it!! Jim used rock salt-- whenever he felt the urge to light up, he would pop one or two crystals in his mouth. Yuck, but it worked! He quit cold turkey after smoking for six or seven years, and what eventually became a two-pack-a-day habit. Hang in there! Re upgrades: my underwear drawer must look a lot like yours, Mawidow. My period undies are the cheap cotton ones I had before I was a wid. I've got all new pretty knickers for every (non-AF) day, and I don't even feel bad about it. Also, I've gone on this insane pajamas kick-- I never wore PJs before, but now I have a cute and/or pretty set for every night, if I want one. There's no one to appreciate any of it, but what the hell. I like it. Hugs!

I have given up trying to keep my kids from watching inappropriate stuff. Parenting fail. On the other hand, my mom and I have taken them to Branson, MO, for a surprise mini-break for the youngest one's 10 th birthday. I don't feel particularly celebratory, and this hotel room is far too small, but they're having fun.

Hugs and more hugs... I wish I had more, I wish I could make it better. Feeling the pain with you. :-[

So many hugs!! I've written these same words in my journal, over and over over: Doesn't matter, I don't care, I'm done. Doesn't matter, I don't care, I'm done. When I write it, I mean it. Luckily, the last couple days have been good ones, and I haven't needed to write those words. I don't delude myself that the good days will last... maybe the bad ones will be fewer and farther apart, or I can hope so. Hold on. The best I can tell you is that you are NOT alone. ((((hugs)))))

(((((JESS))))) Love to you today, sweetie, and always. I'm so glad your friend knew the right thing to so.

Nothing to add right now but hugs...

This. Oh, this. I've felt this way so often in the last year-plus. Occasionally I've seen glimmers of light, thought that maybe, maybe, I was seeing the end of the tunnel... only to be plunged back into the abyss. Lately... the glimmers have been getting brighter. There's some blue sky out there. And the tiniest hope of something more... I don't delude myself that the darkness will ever recede completely. But we keep going. We're here, and we do handle it, even when we absolutely can't. It's hard and it sucks and it's not fucking fair... but one breath follows another, and we realise we've made it through another day. You're not alone. I promise. (((((((HUGS)))))))))

Oh, dear heart... it's late, it's been a long day, so maybe that's why your post has moved me to tears... but I don't think so. Your love for your precious wife is evident in every word. I am so, so sorry that she was taken from you too soon. My own beloved husband-- my best friend from childhood, my soulmate, the other half of my heart-- was only mine in the eyes of the state for four years, but we were each other's from the first minute our eyes met. We were ten and eleven years old. He died very suddenly, three days after his 40th birthday. Now I'm a month from my 41st-- in 30 days I'll be an entire calendar year older than he ever got to be. Reading your post... it makes me think of what he might have written, if I'd been the one to go. I wouldn't wish that pain on him, or anyone, and again-- I'm so sorry you had to look for us. But I'm glad you found us. There is so much pain and struggle in this journey, but the wise and wonderful souls here have also shown me, over and over, that there is a vast store of love in the world. Hugs to you, and peace... Jen