I believe those of you who say it will get better. I just don’t know how I will survive until then. This is the hardest thing I have ever done–and I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to get used to life without my husband. I waited 42 god-damned years to meet him and he dies not even 8 years later??? How the hell is that fair? How can that have happened? I HATE THIS.
It’s not fair, it’s not even close to fair, without a doubt.
This is a debatable point, but after she died all I could think was how much I wanted to be with her. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that “I need to get through my life so I can go to heaven and be with her again.” Like I said, debatable, depending on religious views, etc. But it worked on my mind. I pushed forward only because I thought it was the only way.
I’m not sure you really get used to it in the sense of moving on. I don’t think I’ll ever move on. This has just become a part of who I am. It’s rotten and painful but it’s there. I can’t change what happened, I can’t take it back, but I can go forward.
I can’t relate at all to what you’re going through, Brynda, but I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss, but also to thank you for sharing your grief with us, because even if you feel weak right now, it shows us how strong you are and I have a lot of respect for that. You say you don’t know how you’ll get to the point where it isn’t this hard, but you’ve made it this far, and we are all here for you to help you when you need it. You will always love your husband - and you are who you are because you loved him.
This reminds me of something similar Ray Kurzweil wrote (I came across it on the Our Lady Peace Spiritual Machines album):
"Death gives meaning to our lives. It gives importance and value to time. Time would become meaningless if there were too much of it. "
mnemosyne beat me to the punch. I came in to (1) again express my condolences and add my voice to the “Time heals all wounds” meme and (2) to thank you for sharing this time with us. It would be easy to bottle up those feelings and dismissing them as folly but by sharing them with us, you get the opportunity to let loose and we get the opportunity to learn first-hand the pain and anguish of losing a loved one. Thank you for the bravery and courage you’re showing us by getting out of bed each day.
You won’t really notice it. It’s not like you’ll wake up one day and it will be over. At some point, different for everyone, the pain will stop filling every moment of your day, so gradually you won’t have any idea. Then one day you will realize that you really are better. You really are able to laugh, to look forward, to have some peace.
It’s a tough road. I know you want to simply go to sleep for however long it’s supposed to take and wake up all better, and wouldn’t it be great if that were possible.
Better today. Now I just want to maim someone.
I had a grief doubleheader–therapy this morning and grief support group tonight.
Thanks–huge thanks–to those of you who said I should keep posting and that you appreciate it. I fear that I am becoming a one-trick pony and some people probably hate it, but they can skip my threads, I suppose. I need to post this crap sometimes, and I need to know that someone heard me.
We hear you. Even though we’ve never met, sometimes I wonder how you’re doing when I see your name on the message boards.
Just remember, everything you’re doing, the way you’re reacting, your anger, your questions are all NORMAL and HEALTHY reactions to losing your husband.
Sometimes, on the really bad days you have to just crawl through life moment by moment, but you WILL feel better after awhile.
Eventually, those days where you feel that you are losing your mind will happen less and less. It doesn’t mean you are losing the love you have for Rick, but that you are adapting to this different life.
I wish I had a magic wand to sooth your soul, but time DOES heal. In the meanwhile, continue therapy, talk about Rick, scream and cry if you have to.
I have nothing useful to add, really. I just wanted you to know that I’m listening, and I care.