Jen

I finished last week! I can add BSN to my alphabet soup.

Fuck it all. Just FUCK. IT. ALL.

All I can say is ME TOO. Sigh. ((((((HUGS)))))))

No words... I am so, so sorry. (((((((HUGS)))))))

Oh, hon. I'm so, so sorry. We have a few who have faced this dark road for a second time-- Wheelerswife is the first one to come to mind, I'm sure she will be around soon. Please don't hesitate to talk, scream, cry, rant, whatever you need to do. (((((((HUGS)))))))

I HATE those. I avoid FB stringently because I'm terrified of seeing them. My life with Jim seems like a movie I watched once-- one I really liked, but it's mostly fading away. Memories hurt. There's not much comfort in them, and I don't want to see them. I don't want to see him. He left and I hurt.

I'm tired all the time. I go to bed tired; I wake up tired. I spend a good portion of the night (usually 3-5 am) staring at the ceiling. At work I run myself ragged; on my days off I can barely pry myself off the couch. Doesn't matter. I'm tired-- I think more mentally than physically. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't begrudge anyone their happiness (I'm actually thrilled for you all!), but I have zero expectation of ever finding any myself. I cry at the drop of a hat-- there I go, tearing up again. Yes, I'm on an antidepressant. I journal. I walk. I'm trying, but nothing fixes this. It's like being chained to a boulder that you just can't get rid of.

I would never tell anyone else what words to use, but I also hate the phrase "passed away." My husband died. He threw a blood clot and it went to his lungs. (Maybe there were several, I have no idea. They wouldn't consider an autopsy, and in retrospect, I suppose it was pointless.) He fought tooth and nail, but in less than an hour, he succumbed. There was no "passing" about it. When I'm feeling especially raw, I say he dropped dead-- but that's not entirely true. He really did try to stay. I like the thought of their souls passing into another realm. I always believed that, or thought I did... now I just don't know. I'm not afraid to die, but I do wonder if he'll be there waiting, or everything will just go dark. I find that I don't really care anymore. But that's just me...

(((((HUGS)))))) Not lame. I love carousels. We have one here called the Flying Horses, one of two survivors from the early part of the twentieth century, and I adore it. I like roller coasters too, but not this one. I'm sick of this one, and I WANT OFF. I'm tired. I'm scared and lonely and hopeless, and I'm afraid I will never be anything else. I do what I have to do, I get up every morning and go to work or get my kids off to school. I pay the bills. I just finished another degree (that's five, if anyone is counting, but so the eff what?). I want to do something different, I want to BE someone different-- someone who doesn't hurt all the time and cry every night and wish for amnesia just to get some relief. I was laughing with my kids a couple nights ago (I do laugh, sometimes)-- my daughter was fixing my hair, and I joked that I was "a pretty pretty princess," even if no prince is looking for me. My younger son got very serious and said, "You are not a princess, Mum. You are our mom, and we love you, and that should be enough." Dagger in the heart. Maybe it should be enough... it's not. I can't be just Mum for the rest of my life. I love my kids more than anything, they're why I'm still here, but... surely there's something left for me? Am I wrong for even thinking that? I just want to scream. Maybe I will, when I get to the car. Sigh...

My bed is full of stuffed toys. I can't help myself. I've got a bunny, a hedgehog, an otter, a kitty, a husky, two Ugly Dolls, a Worry Doll, a tiny dog, a baby seal that belonged to my grandmother, and the teddy bear my grandpa gave me when I was two. I also have Sven and Kristoff from Frozen, and I was super excited yesterday when I found Anna and Elsa at a thrift store. Even if somebody wanted to share my bed (which no one does, or likely ever will), there wouldn't be room. :-\

I have one of those back rest pillows with the arms, the kind you're supposed to be able to lean against in bed, but really it's too short/small to do much. Jim and I bought it when we first got married-- I don't even know why. We were getting bean bags for the kids, and I saw it, and for some obscure reason I wanted it, so he got it for me. It spent most of its time on the couch-- I used it for lower back support when I was sitting on the couch and surfing on my laptop. It got pretty worn, cat-clawed, leaking stuffing, etc-- when he died, it actually had a big hole in it, and I was getting ready to toss it. The first night I went back to our house, I moved that pillow to our bed-- it had been sitting beside him on the couch when he went into respiratory arrest. It's not really snuggle-able, but I tried. When I got around to sorting his things, I had a drawer full of his underwear-- some brand-new, he'd only just had his birthday. But who wants a dead man's underwear, even if it's unworn? I couldn't bring myself to toss it... but I didn't see the point in donating it, either. (He was, shall we say, not an average-sized man, so there wouldn't be too many people who could use his shorts, anyway.) I folded them all neatly, the way he taught me-- laundry was his specialty, lol-- and I stuffed them into that pillow. As many as would fit, and then I sewed it up. Now that pillow weighs close to 20 lbs, and it's definitely not very snuggly, but it stands sentinel in my bed, and will for the foreseeable future. Kinda pitiful-- my comfort objects include a pillow stuffed with my deceased husband's undies-- but it is what it is.

I am so, so sorry. Keep talking--we're here. Hugs.

So many hugs... I'm so, so sorry. <3

There's no escape from this roller coaster, is there? I'm so tired. I wish it would all just go away.

In a word: YES. It's okay. No one gets to tell you how to wid; you do what you need to do. I couldn't stay in the house where my husband dropped dead one afternoon; we moved across town at about 9 months. I would like to have moved across the country, but I can't do that just yet... hopefully it won't be too much longer. Since I no longer regularly drive past the places that trigger me most, it's better... my life with Jim feels like a long-ago dream anyway. Sometimes I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad one. :-\ ((((HUGS)))) Wishing you peace in your decisions...

It's coming to Little Rock when our performing arts center is finished with its renovation. Phantom is still my daughter's fave show-- she got to see it in Memphis, but I'd like to see it with her.

I love love LOVE this show, and the musical style is *so* far from what I know and like that it's slightly mind-blowing. Nevertheless, it's barely been out of my CD player since I got it for Christmas. That line from "It's Quiet Uptown:" "... learn to live with the unimaginable." It had me in tears. And the verse you quoted from "Wait for It"-- yes, all the way. I would love to see it, but it will be awhile-- even if I could get to NYC, there's no way I could swing the $400 tickets! Maybe someday... I expect it will have a nice, long run.

WOOHOO!!!! This is so happening!!

I've had a few rough days lately too, so I can empathize completely. (((((HUGS))))) Tuesday was my wedding anniversary-- should have been six years, but of course there's no one to celebrate it with anymore. It was just... Tuesday. Groundhog Day, so I guess that's something, but... not what I wanted when we chose that date. :-\ I'm so glad to hear that you're finding joy. I understand the trepidation about the change in name and identity... I think that's something men don't quite get (unless they change their names too, lol).

So many hugs.. I wish I could do better.

Me neither!! lol

Fuck the universe. Fuck that I had made a promising connection, and he died too. Joke's on me again. Fuck my life.

(((((HUGS))))) Dh's birthday and death day are three days apart, in April-- that's coming fast. This Tues will be what should have been out 6th wedding anniversary-- the second without him. I don't want to do this anymore. I have moments of okay-ness, and stretches of definitely-not-okay that make those okay moments all but irrelevant. I'm so sorry.

Nope. Can't do it anymore. I quit. No amount of self-care or working on me can fix what's wrong. I've stopped wishing for death, but I think longingly of somehow acquiring a case of amnesia. I would love to start over as a whole new person-- no past, no grief, no fear of an endlessly empty future. I'm okay... but I'm not. I don't want to be a wid anymore. I want this s*** out of my head for good.

HUGS, HUGS, HUGS. I am so, so sorry.