Almost 2 months

[Dean47]

It will be two months this week when I lost my sweet sweet Nicole. My life partner of 14+ years, my fianc?, my soulmate. She had a very complicated set of health challenges and before we had a diagnosis her heart gave out with cardiac arrest. I've been reading, going to counseling, talking to family and friends all the time, practically living at the dog park, praying and going to try some support groups this week....but I'm like everyone else...feeling very lifeless and bleak. The stress and sadness is so strong that I just can't imagine that my heart doesn't just collapse...and that would actually be relief. This is most definitely a strange and dark place, and it seems likely that it will get worse before it gets better. I go day to day, avoid thoughts of the future, stay away from music (too many triggers). I would just like to hear that there is hope. I certainly know that this is a new life and that Nicole and my life will always be there, but everything from this point forward will be very different. I just want to believe that there can be happiness again?

[Wheelerswife]

Hi, Dean47,

 

I'm so sorry you lost your sweet Nicole.  You have found a good place, though, with this group of people.  We all know the loss you feel, the overwhelming sadness, the questioning, the desire for hope.  While everyone has their own timeline and experiences, it has been my experience that it is possible to find a way to be happy again.  I've been widowed twice myself.  I found incredible happiness with my second husband, yet I still carried my first husband in my heart.  Even after the experience of finding a second and really wonderful love, I was crushed when I lost him, too...quite unexpectedly.  I was really knocked on my behind with his death and I didn't know how I was going to survive.  But...I am doing that, just like everyone else here...one day at a time.  I'm starting to get my feet under me again and I have to believe that I, too, can find happiness again.  I have known happiness.  I want it again.  Different people want different things, as you will read here on this board.  Some want to find love again.  Some do not.  I know that I do and I'm starting to feel like it really can happen again.  I'm not so sure I am ready yet, but I hope in time I will find great love #3.

 

In the meantime, just keep eating, drinking water, keeping yourself busy if that helps, hang out with your dog and taking advantage of people who get it...like people here.

 

Maureen

 

 

[BrokenHeart2]

Welcome Dean to a group no one wants to belong too. But I'm glad you found us. There are such terrific and supportive people here that have walked your similar jouney. I have received such comfort and understanding here.

Please remember to breathe and drink lots of water as crying is very dehydrating.  I too was where you are. I couldn't imagine surviving the unimaginable pain... I am. The pain is still here but different.  We all somehow find our way

Big gentle hus to you.

[NicY]

Hi Dean47,

 

I completely understand how you are feeling. I am 6 six weeks out and like you I am aware that this is a new life moving forward and things will be very very different. I worry about how I will cope with this new life. We are an expatriate family living in Singapore and with R's sudden death I will be moving back to Australia with my 11 year-old daughter in two months. It has been 10 years since we been on the move for his job, so going back without R is a very very scary thought. I don't know how I will adjust to life as a single parent, will I make new friends and if I can find a job. In addition, I will be leaving behind good friends who have been my lifeline since R's passing. This is an added stress for me.

 

Like you, I have been wondering if happiness will one day find its way back into my life. It  seems impossible at this stage but I am telling myself to be patient and just ride the waves for now. Friends tell me to live one day at a time. As a control freak who likes to make plans, this is a struggle.

 

However, I know with clarity that I want to honour R's legacy and live a life that's worthy of his love and sacrifice, and also to raise my daughter to be the person he would be proud of. I'd like to believe that I can live a meaningful and purposeful life one day when I feel better.

 

May you channel your love for your sweet sweet Nicole into your inner strength and let it shine when the darkest hour falls on you.

[SoVerySad]

I am so sorry for the loss of your sweet Nicole. The pain in the early months is excruciating. I remember reaching the one month mark and feeling incredulous that my body had actually survived the tremendous onslaught of pain. It really does require a one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time, approach. Like you, I had to avoid music for many months after my husband died suddenly and unexpectedly. It was hard, because music was always a haven of comfort for me. Suddenly I couldn't bear it. I'm glad to let you know that with time, I've been able to enjoy music again. Even songs we shared a great love for bring me a bittersweet comfort now.

 

I just passed the 3 year mark. I can say the pain becomes different - not as completely devastating. I do have times of enjoyment and laughter again. I haven't reached what I would call happiness yet, but I definitely have more hope that I will get there someday than the first year. I still miss and love my husband. I'm just doing my best each day to keep working my way towards more happiness. This forum has some truly wonderful people who are here to offer you support and encouragement as we know how deeply it hurts.

 

Sending you a tight hug...

[Mizpah]

The stress and sadness is so strong that I just can't imagine that my heart doesn't just collapse...and that would actually be relief. This is most definitely a strange and dark place, and it seems likely that it will get worse before it gets better. I go day to day, avoid thoughts of the future, stay away from music (too many triggers). I would just like to hear that there is hope. I certainly know that this is a new life and that Nicole and my life will always be there, but everything from this point forward will be very different. I just want to believe that there can be happiness again?

 

You describe it perfectly.  It is strange and dark, and it is amazing that we can survive this, as the emotions are so strong they become physical.  It is overwhelming in every way and all-encompassing.  (I too stayed away from music, but one day I was getting my nails done and Toto's Africa came on - a song I have no musical or emotional connection to whatsoever - and I started sobbing uncontrollably.)  It doesn't always just simply get better, but I've found that it does not get worse than those first couple weeks.  It hurts once the shock wears off, but the absolute devastation of the first couple weeks are unimaginable.

 

As for hope and future happiness.  Yes, there is.  There is hope for feeling relief from this, there is hope for having nice days, for smiling naturally and loving life.  There is also hope for love in the future.  I've heard it said that "the only way is through," or something to that effect.  It's true.  I remember the first time I caught myself smiling - I was by myself, watching the NYC marathon on my block.  It was sunny out, it was a beautiful day.  The first runners came by and I was clapping and smiling.  I saw myself from outside myself, and I thought, "I'm happy right now.  I may not be in a moment, but at this very millisecond, I am."  It was about 6 months out.  The timeline is different for everyone, but I share mine just because.  At about two years out, I traveled alone for a couple weeks, and it was then that I either came back to life or realized that I had been for some time.  I felt alive again.  Five years after DH's death, I live with my (widower) boyfriend and our daughter.  Even absent recoupling, before I met him, I was happy again.  In a different way.  And there will always be a part of me that is that woman in the hospital room saying, "My life is over."  But yes, there is hope.

[MrsT85]

I go day to day, avoid thoughts of the future, stay away from music (too many triggers).

 

This was me, too.  And I would get so angry with myself, because music was the thing that brought Tim and I together and remained the most significant shared passion throughout our entire relationship.  I avoided it altogether for the first several months because I was simply afraid of how intense the triggers would be.  It probably took me almost six months to be able to listen to *anything*, and it was just a couple weeks ago - on the three year anniversary of his accident - that I was finally able to bring myself to purposely listen to some of the most emotionally significant songs from his favorite bands (and even then it wasn't without tears). 

 

Like Mizpah said - there will always be a part of me that will remain the devastated young woman, starting out into space with tears streaming down her cheeks not knowing what life even means anymore.  Sometimes it's still difficult to believe he is gone and sometimes the pain is still unbelievably intense.  But I've also discovered what life means without him and (with a lot of help) have rebuilt a pretty good one.  My happiness might be a little more cautious now - maybe a little more muted - but three years later I'm able to imagine a positive future and even sometimes have the emotional energy to work toward it.  You're right - life will never be the same.  I wish every day that my wonderful husband was still alive and love him as much today as the day I married him.  Getting through these next handful of months (or weeks, or years - we're all on our own timelines) will likely be the hardest thing you've ever done, but please keep reaching out to this community for support.  We all get what it's like to walk this path, and the empathy that was showered upon me when I first started posting on the precursor to this forum just two or three days after losing my husband was the *only* thing that was able to make me feel a tiny, tiny bit better because it let me know that all of the confusing emotional turmoil I was experiencing was totally normal and that others had walked this path before me and survived, so I likely would too (regardless of how little I actually believed it at the time).

 

I'm so so sorry you've had reason to join us here.  Sending support....

[Dean47]

Wow...those are encouraging replies. This is an amazing forum...NicY from the other side of the world going through such grief as I and reaching out for encouragement and her own support. Hang in there NicY...all loss is unique, but I know we are both trying to find our way through this dark and scary place. Those who have post and are further out and have found a different life in which there are smiles and a renewed sense of hope give us beautiful news...if we keep putting one foot in front of the other and making it through each day...we will eventually see more light. We are all changed forever and see the world differently...I pray that one day I will see more hope and that these dark days will give way to renewal. I know I must keep fighting, as my sweet Nicole fought till her last breathe.

[Jen]

(((((HUGS))))) I am so, so sorry for your loss. Wishing you comfort as you travel this dark road... we're here to listen.

[Justin]

Dean47,

 

 

You've got the right mindset, brother - and I think that is the hardest part. Stay in that frame of mind, and keep doing what you are doing. We have all suffered a terrible tragedy, but it is up to each of us how we will react to it and what we will make of our new lives.

 

 

 

I am forever changed: more gray, more wrinkles, a missing tooth (lack of care when I didn't give a shit because my wife was dead) but not just changed in bad ways. I am also now less self-centered, more excited about life than since I was a teen, and less afraid of uncertainty. My daughter and I decided to become better at embracing change, be true to ourselves, and live in less fear.

 

 

 

 

I don't know what I would have done without the friends I met on the predecessor to this forum, many of whom are here now. They taught me to be gentle with myself, and that I am not alone in this journey. I decided to take an active role in reaching out to those with a like mentality, and to virtually surround myself with wids who were determined to get through this hell to a better place. It may seem corny, but I envisioned climbing a mountain, and selecting those I could trust for a party to help me make it to the summit.

 

 

One of those friendships turned into love, and I now remarried. The loss of my first wife still hurts, and I think it always will. I miss her everyday, and still have emotional days where I can't listen to a certain song or look at photos. However, at just shy of two years I can say that I am genuinely happy and getting ready to move 1800 miles with DD so we can be together all of the time.

 

 

Hang in, hang on, and do the grief work. I promise that you will get to a better place, but it may not even remotely resemble what you have in mind today. As Mizpah wrote, the way out - is through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[arneal]

Yes, Dean, there is life. It's just different.

 

When it's so new, it's like a toothache no one can do anything about. It's an ache that comes and goes. May 1 will be three months since my husband Left and I have times when I feel guilty for having a good day, for feeling good about something on my own. Over the course of his illness, I had those moments when I wondered what it would be like if he were to die, so I guess I've had a long season of mourning. Years, in fact. But there are the things that do bring me joy, like driving the vehicle he used to drive. It had been sitting in our driveway, broken down, for nearly a year. One of the first things I did after he died was to get it back on the road. I drive it to church on weekends and sometimes around town (it's a '97 Suburban so it's better on long hauls). It feels like he's there. I look at his photo and other things around the house and just ... remember.

 

You'll get there, in your own way and in your own time. I hear you about music. My Christopher was a musician. I haven't turned on the jazz station in my car since. That was the one he liked to listen to when I drove him to appointments. He died in hospital and I can't bring myself to go near one of those facilities, although he had friends at one of the offices and I'm working my way up to going to tell them.  But each of us does more, each day or each week or each month. And we have days where the ache is dreadful and we can't cry away or hug away or sleep away the feeling. I had one of those today. But then it passes, or turns into a different day, and like Wheeler's wife said in a response to my post (and I'm paraphrasing), we take it a little at a time.

 

Best to you, friend.