Jen

Ditto here. After a year-plus, I still have people gush, "Wow, you look great! What's your diet secret?" I tell them, "You wouldn't like this plan. It's called the Bereavement Diet and it sucks shit." That generally shuts them up pretty fast. :-/ (((hugs)))

I'm slumped on the couch watching Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince . I'm hot, I'm tired- just came off another 12-hour shift, I haven't even changed out of my scrubs. Just realised I've got tears running down my face. No reason for it- just tired and lonely and sad. I can't for the life of me figure out why men aren't lined up at my door... :-/

Many tight hugs today, Maureen. You're such an inspiration for all of us here.

It settles over you like a wet wool blanket. I got home and had to leap directly into my regular routine-- kids, dishes, laundry, school work, back to the grind. There's nothing really wrong with any of it, it just is what it is, and yet... what it is is still so empty. People are pleased that I had fun, but they can't grasp what it meant to me. No one wants to see the pictures or hear the stories-- and really, who would understand? All they can do is smile and nod. They don't get it. So, yeah-- I hear you. And I want to go back, please. The sooner, the better.

And much love back, of course! Europe will never be the same without you.

Viva, I feel much the same. If I say "I wish he were here," and someone answers, "Oh, but he is!" it's all I can do not to tell them to go f*** themselves. It always strikes me as smug, patronizing, and minimizing of my grief. There is nothing comforting in it at all. But that's just me... (((Hugs)))

((((Hugs)))) Maureen's right, it HAS to get better. It just has to. Hold on. (And clotheslines aren't so terrible... )

It sounds like a lovely marker. I still haven't looked into getting one... I've sketched what I want in a headstone, and I even have a plot of ground to put it on, even though I have no intention of being buried under it. I suppose I ought to get on with it, before my MIL beats me to it-- if she does, then Jim will have two markers (eventually), since she'll put hers in their family cemetery in Mississippi, and mine is here in Arkansas. Doesn't matter to me, and I know it doesn't make any difference to Jim, so I'm not in a great hurry. Still... I ought to at look... The talking without crying thing is weird to me too. I was chatting with a lady at Starbucks the other day-- she was very sweet and we had a nice conversation; at some point, I couldn't avoid the subject. I told her about Jim without having a breakdown. It was frankly amazing to me, and a little disconcerting. I mean-- I still care, don't I? I'm still devastated? Anyway. Not trying to hijack, just hanging right there with you. Hugs.

Perfectly stated. ((((®))))) Here's my sad and poignant little hope: eventually, someday, our limps will smooth out. Maybe our hearts will even soar. It could happen, right? <3

As if there was ever any real doubt. Can't stop the signal!

Hugs from here too. I'm glad you de-lurked-- keep talking, it does help.

Oh, Briana. I am so, so very sorry for the loss of your precious Jack. My husband was my best friend from childhood, and even though we only had four years together as a married couple, we had loved each other for a quarter century. I was 39 when he passed suddenly, three days after his 40th birthday. That was 15 1/2 months ago-- some days it feels like barely a week, and others it's at least a century. Breathe. Drink some water whenever you think about it-- keep a bottle by you. Keep talking. We're here. We get it.

((((Hugs)))) I cry. I still cry in random public places when some little thing or another triggers a little griefquake. It's normal for us. And it's okay.

(((((Fern))))) This is exactly why this community is absolutely invaluable-- a lifesaver, for some of us. You're not the only one. You're really, really not. We got you.

Many hugs to you. I struggled socially before my husband died-- I'm an introvert, and I never had any great desire for an active social life. By and large his company was sufficient. Now I find that I crave more human interaction, but people scare me-- I'm never sure what to say, and I'm generally convinced that whatever I end up doing is... not quite right, somehow. Add the wid thing to the mix, and-- ugh. I'm going to third the bago idea, if you can get to one, or make one come to you. No one gets it like other wids.

Best few days I've ever spent with anyone, anywhere. <3 <3 <3

Triggers, flashbacks... Ugh, just ugh. Sometimes they're even good things-- like today I found out that Berke Breathed has started writing/drawing Bloom County again. I'm thrilled-- that was something Jim and I bonded over back in junior high! Then of course I had to cry, because he's not here to be excited with me. Sigh. It never goes away, does it?

((((Amy)))) I am so sorry, that sounds beyond miserable! Is there any chance of changing meds or modifying the treatment? When the cure is as bad as the problem, nothing seems right. I'm no help, but I'm thinking of you. More hugs!

Hugs and more hugs... One day, one step, one breath at a time. We're still here.

Because I have a license to protect, I'm already expecting to be the designated stick in the mud and observer/documentarian of whatever debauchery goes on. The good news is, I'll have a wealth of blackmail material for years to come.

One of my favorite affirmations comes from the 13th century mystic, Julian of Norwich. I've found it very comforting over the years, but after Jim died I couldn't bear to think or say it anymore-- it couldn't possibly be true. Now I've begun to think that... maybe it can. This is what your post reminded me of-- thank you. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. In other words, it'll be okay. One way or another. (((Hugs))))

Love, love, LOVE this idea. It needs to be a thing!! ((((Hugs)))) I'm glad everything turned out okay!

So many hugs, Justin. I think my experience was similar to yours, in that the anticipation was far worse than the actual event. It helped immensely to be with other wids as well. You're right, it's just another trip round the sun, but we deserve credit for all we've gone through to make this journey. I'm proud of us. There were times I didn't think I'd make it this far. Peace to you. I'm glad it was a relatively good day. hugs, Jen

((((Deb)))) I am so, so very sorry that you had to look for us, but grateful you found us. My sweet dh was my best friend from the time we were 11 or 12 years old, but we had only been married 4 years when he passed away very suddenly, three days after his 40th birthday, from PEs. He had chronic health issues, but we had no reason to expect that he wouldn't be around to see our 20th, 30th, even 40th anniversaries. Instead I found myself a single mum at 39 with three children and a shattered heart. Now, 15 months later, I can say there's a little light to be found, but this is a dark and scary road, and I don't know what I'd have done without this community. Keep breathing, even when you don't want to. Eat at least once a day and drink as much water as you can manage to remember. Most of all, be gentle with yourself-- and keep talking. We're here, and we understand (though we wish we didn't!). So many hugs to you. another Jen

I'm finally posting here. I've just about got my ducks lined up for Amsterdam. I've got almost all my packing done, my to do list sorted, and my school work all but finished. I've been anxious about it for awhile, but I realized last night that I'm actually EXCITED. This is happening! In less than 48 hours I'll be on my way to New York, then on to Amsterdam! W00T!!