Jen

Oh, Mikeeh, it's not just you. I've often thought the same thing. I look at this board, at all of us here, mourning our loved ones, and wonder, Who will post for me? That seems kind of selfish, but at the same time, it's a valid question. Honestly, it's not fair.... it's just not. :-/

My sister got to see this production at the National Theatre in London-- she said Hugh Jackman was amazing. I saw it on Great Performances, and, much as I love Hugh, I had to laugh at his attempt at a mid-American accent. The rest of the cast too, come to think of it...

Disappointed to miss the ones of you who can't make this one... but seriously, I'm so excited for this, I don't think I'll sleep between now and Sunday. Which means I might be a complete lunatic by then, lol. Squee!

I've just about decided that it's not a roller coaster, but a Ferris wheel from hell. We can't get off, we go round and round, but we reach the bottom and then we start back up to the top. From there we can see whole sky. One of these days, we're going to get off for good. ((((HUGS))))

Thank you all so much-- I needed all those hugs!! And I'm counting the days down until I get some real ones! I only had one real breakdown yesterday... I cried for awhile, but it didn't send me into the pits of despair. I called my ILs and couldn't get my MIL off the phone for over 2 hours-- but it was actually a pretty good conversation. Instead of her usual "state of my grief" report, she seemed much more concerned with looking ahead-- for me and her both. She's dealing with a breast cancer diagnosis right now-- she had surgery a couple weeks ago, and she's following up for radiation, but the prognosis is good. She was encouraging about my educational endeavors (I'm working on another bachelor's degree), and when I told her about the trip this weekend (NYC bago, yay!!!), she was happy about it. She confirmed my thought, which was that Jim would absolutely want me to go and have a wonderful time. Anyway... sorry to ramble. I'm okay today. Still not sure how Friday will fine me, but I guess we'll see. ((((((HUGS))))))

((((Sandy))))) Even when we know those crashes are likely to come, they still knock our legs out from under us. I'm glad you've got good support.

Yes!! No one tells us this is a side effect of grief, but it is-- I finally went to a dermatologist because I was convinced I would be bald. He told me that it's a condition called telogen effluvium, it's caused by major stress, it's temporary (6 months- 2 years), and you don't generally lose all your hair-- just enough to notice the thinning. There's no treatment except time, although a good diet and stress management (har!) can help. I'm closing in on a year, and I can say I've noticed a significant drop in how much hair I'm pulling out of my hairbrush. It will get better. Note: I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one, so it's always best to have things checked out by a qualified professional. Actually, all wids would probably benefit from a head-to-toe physical... I know I personally spent six months neglecting my health shamefully (and on purpose-- I quit taking my prescription meds, reasoning that I had no desire to prolong my life, so why bother?). Just my 2 cents, but there it is. (((hugs)))

So many tight hugs, sweetie. Four months... it feels like a million years ago, and it feels like yesterday. It was horrible. I wish I could take this away for you. One day at a time. One breath. Keep talking; we're listening.

It's one of those "last of the firsts" things. Today is my Jim's birthday. I was doing all right until I got home from work and had to see the Facebook posts. My mother posted on his wall, and I lost it completely. He would have been 41 years old today-- my brilliant sweet baby, who taught me more about love and loyalty in the five years we were married than I'd learned in all the years before. I don't understand why it had to be this way. On Friday it will be a year since he left. That's just an arbitrary line in the sand-- there's nothing magical about passing 365 days. One year, two, five-- I'll still be looking at his picture beside his urn. It's just one more day that he's not in the world. I miss him so much.

Those little gleams of light make this long, dark road closer to bearable. So glad you found one. (((Hugs)))

One week, y'all!! It's getting close!

Yes to all of these. Re #1: Been there, tried that. Also various spells I gleaned from Buffy and Supernatural. No dice; it doesn't work. I'm not sure if that's a shame or a relief.

Jerald, you made me think of this one tonight. May all your memories be happy ones.

Peace to you tonight, MrC-- and many hugs.

So many hugs to you all... I find more and more that I read everything, but words elude me. All I seem to do is repeat myself. But I'm still here, still reading, and still grateful to have you all to cling to. Today-- one week shy of a year-- I had a massive panic attack. The hurricane analogy is apt-- I felt as though I was being swept away by 40-foot swells. The world was ending; I wanted to drown and be done. And then... it passed. The terror receded. I felt small and stupid and ashamed of myself, like an alcoholic waking up from a blackout without a clear idea of what she might have done or how bad a fool she's made of herself. The world hasn't ended; I'm still alive. It's not the life I wanted, not the future I thought I'd secured, but it is what it is. When I'm not being ridiculous and irrational, it's not altogether terrible. So I'm done. No more. There is light; there is love. It's time to look at what I have instead of brooding over what I've lost. Time to practice gratitude instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Time, once again, to remind myself that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. I had a handle on that for awhile. I'm taking it back. Y'all can hold me accountable. I'm truly grateful for every one of you. Thank you for listening to all my ramblings and rantings over the past year. I wouldn't have made it without you. so much love, Jen

(((((((Wnella)))))))) Wishing you peace tonight, dear, and glad you've found some hope.

I have no good advice, but I have many, many (((((HUGS))))) I am so very sorry.

Submitted mine. Just sayin'...

Yes, what she said--same experience. They worked well enough (and I did have severe PPD), but I got to the point where I would rather have felt anything instead of just nothing. I'm not opposed to them in principle, and I've seen them do wonders for people. They don't have to be permanent. Guess I should've just said "ditto," lol. :-\ Hugs.

I'm just adrift. I've managed to find a few other survivors to hang onto, and so far kept my head above water... but barely. I don't know if I'll ever find a safe harbor again.

Maybe that's how I've been feeling lately-- I keep telling people it feels as though Jim was just part of a dream, and I finally woke up. How do you miss a dream? It doesn't seem real-- none of it. Our life together, our Nicholas Sparks-style love story, his sudden death. Is it just my brain putting a layer of mental bubble wrap around it so it won't hurt so much? That's the only thing I can figure...

I've been putting off talking to State Farm for almost a year now. I never notified them that Jim died-- I've renewed the policy twice. Is there a penalty for getting a multidriver discount when there's only one driver? I haven't even updated my address with them because I'm scared to find out. How pathetic is that? I hate this.

Honestly, I think this is all I want: someone to hug me and tell me it will get better someday. I still make those animal keening noises once in awhile-- not often, not like I used to, but occasionally it's the only was to bear the pain and terror that colors every hour of my life now. I could do this if I *knew* it was finite. That it would end, and I would wake up one day and find that I was free and happy again. I wish I could believe that. I wish... But that brings to mind a line from a song that runs through my head nearly every day: Don't wish. Don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart... Sorry. Morose this afternoon. Tableforone, you did give me a tiny glimmer of hope there. But seven years-- ! Sometimes I don't think I can last 7 more months. ((((((Deedee))))))) Thinking of you, sweetie. I know I'm no help, but I'm here.

((((Hugs)))) My in-laws have gradually slipped away over the past year, although they swore up, down, and sideways that they would be here for us "no matter what." They live 8 hours away, and their other son-- the one who exceeded their expectations, unlike my poor dh, who was the one they never understood-- recently moved his family to be close to them. So they have the perfect little setup down there on the coast now-- Granddaddy and Memaw, successful attorney son with his elegant stay-at-home wife and two beautiful children, the latter born last summer and named for his departed uncle. Sigh. I'm not really bitter. It's not that I want to spend more time with them-- I don't even resent them (much). They never got Jim, and they didn't get our family-- we never fit the upstanding Southern family mold. They do care about us, but they don't relate to us at all, nor do we relate well to them. Lately my MIL has been dealing with significant health issues, so that's had a serious impact as well. Maybe it's as you say-- I'm angry that got all the space and leisure to absorb their loss, while I was forced to just keep going, even when it was all I could do to get out of bed. I'm also a little frustrated at the expectations they now have of me... they're the ones who urged me to go back to school last summer, and because I had some insane need to please them, I did. Although Jim had enough credits for three bachelor's degrees, he never finished one-- his anxiety and depression kept him from it, and they never forgave him for it. Now they seem to have transferred that insistence on continuing education to me-- never mind that I have 4 degrees already! True, the one I'm working on now will keep me on stable footing in my career (if I do indeed decide to continue it, which is by no means certain). But they think I'm going to finish it and then go onto more advanced degrees-- and I'm here to tell you, it just isn't happening! Once I'm done with this, I'm through with school. I'm over it. Just don't know how to tell them that... Hmm. Evidently I needed to rant a little about my ILs. Thanks for letting me-- so sorry, all I've done lately is hijack threads. I'm sorry you're experiencing distance from your ILs-- I think you're right, it's (unfortunately) fairly common. No matter how we protest otherwise, most of us aren't really their family, you know? Some people luck out and really connect with their spouse's family, but I think that's the exception, not the rule.

(((((Hugs))))))) For me it's almost the opposite. The first of the month arrives and I think, I survived another one! I seem to do all right until the 10th rolls around, then I start to sink again. It's so long till the month is over, you know? I don't know why I think another month will make any difference... it's all so arbitrary, but I can't seem to change it. The character of this grief has changed so much for me over the past few months that I barely recognise it anymore. For the first eight months or so, it was all about my Jim-- how aware I was of his absence, of the giant hole his death left in me. Then it all shifted... I can't explain it. It was almost as though I woke up one morning and he was gone. I no longer have any sense of him-- I know people say they continue to feel their beloved with them for years, maybe for the rest of their lives, but I feel nothing of him anymore. I feel so bad about that-- did I close myself off to him, or was he just done with me? I will miss him as long as I live, but I no longer feel connected to him in any meaningful way. That hurts-- mainly because it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Does that make any sense? Am I terrible person, that it's not killing me to let him go? I promised to love him forever, and I still do, and I always will. But he's not part of my reality anymore. I have to live with what is-- I can't cling to the life I had, the one I thought I would always have. I keep hearing Timon and Pumbaa from The Lion King: "You have to put your behind in the past." "Sit down before you hurt yourself. He means you have to put your past behind you." Does that mean I'm over it, I'm all better? Far from it!! I'm still stuck in hell, but I'm mourning the loss of me, of my life. I'm mired in fear about the future I no longer have. I'm not sure who I am anymore, I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my time in this world. I start to think about it and panic rises-- right now I'm sitting here in tears, wondering what I can possibly look forward to. I look back and all my choices up to this point seem like bad ones-- career, family, education, everything. I don't see any way to progress or grow. I've just got a few decades to kill, that's all. This. Yes. Precisely this. It sums up exactly how I feel. I have rare moments of peace, where I think, Really, I'm okay... I'm going to be okay. But more often I'm in mild fight-or-flight, lost and afraid and so, so sad. It's not even because Jim himself is gone, it's because the security he represented is gone. I don't think I'll ever feel safe again. I'm probably rambling and making very little sense. I'm sorry for that, and for hijacking. I've been trying to get this out somewhere, and largely failing. I feel like an awful person-- self-centered and self-obsessed. I just want an endpoint-- I want to know that the terror will recede and I'll find out that there is actually some kind of life on the other side of this. I don't want to be trapped on this roller coaster forever.