Its funny how the mind works. I’m going through a lot of the same feelings right now due to shitty things going on in my life. Nothing as bad as the death of a loved one but a lot of the reactions are the same. Good news, I lost 10 lbs. Bad news I did it in a week. Just remember that a lot of us have gone through something similar. There are a lot of people here with big hearts. Sometimes it might be easier to unload here than to a friend or family member. I’m glad you are seeing a therapist and talking to your sister. If you need to say something here don’t hesitate. I usually don’t respond to threads like this because I feel awkward and don’t know what to say. I guess all I can say is that my thoughts are with you.
Brynda, when I was widowed, I read a lot. A LOT. I studied grief and widow-hood in search of answers to make it better, easier or on the right time-line. My conclusion: There aren’t any answers or rules. Some people think there are, but there aren’t. Time makes it easier.
The most helpful thing I read was this: You don’t need to behave in any particular manner. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. The only thing you absolutely have to do is keep breathing. Just keep breathing.
Whenever I felt I was a burden or a lunatic, I reminded myself that there are no time-lines and no rules; the only thing I had to do was to keep breathing. When I felt pressured to be “normal” within a set period of time, I told myself, no, this takes as long as it takes – just keep breathing. When I felt like a dribbling, pathetic lump, I consoled myself with the thought that if I had to be a dribbling, pathetic lump to survive the experience, then so be it – so long as I kept breathing.
Somehow I got through.
Just keep breathing, Brynda. Nothing else matters. Keep breathing.
Thanks, everyone. This helps.
I am doing the basics–breathing, paying the bills, surviving. I am even working some, and on Saturday volunteered to help tornado victims for a few hours. It is just that when I feel sad, I feel terrible. Miserable. And I hate it. But you guys are right–this is just how it is and how it has to be for now.
Eat.
It’s been 4 months for me since my husband died after a 3 year battle with cancer. The entire first month is a total blur–I know I experienced every possible emotion at a myriad of different intensities. I know that I got an amazing amount of stuff done–probate and moving out the hospice things, and eating and sleeping and writing thank you notes and arguing with credit card companies. I got advice here on the Dope that was so helpful: Every emotion you have is normal; every feeling is ok. That became my mantra when I was sad, frustrated, angry, lonely, relieved, overwhelmed, happy, guilty over being happy, scared, miserable. You name it. Much of the time I just wished I could be numb. And then I felt guilty for that–begin cycle over. 
The single hardest thing for me has been my unconscious behaviors/reactions. As, for example, hearing a car pull into the driveway and thinking he’s home. Makes me tear up just typing it. But for over 30 years, that sound of tires on gravel meant he was home. I don’t know that I would change my reaction if I could. But it hurts.
I really did (and am) “taking advantage” of my friends and even some comparative strangers who have offered to help. I’ve had to adjust my self-image a little. I’ve always pictured myself as independent, self-sufficient, strong, etc. Well, right now, I need help. I need comfort. I need company. I need sympathy. Lots and lots and lots. And, amazingly, there are people out there who want to provide those things. I am so thankful.
{{{{{{hugs}}}}}. If internet “company” would help, PM me. I’m “home alone” most of the time.
That’s all you can do…just try to get from day to day, from moment to moment, from breath to breath. Grief is terrible…there’s nothing to get you through it except time. There’s no pill, no magic therapy trick, no magic wand to wave. Just time.
You say you’re volunteering…does that help? Maybe take your mind off things for a bit? Could you do some more?
I saw the *Sex and the City *movie on cable a few days ago, and I was struck by how the girls helped Carrie get through Big leaving her at the altar. They went on the honeymoon with her, and she basically slept for two days and two nights. The friends checked on her, Samantha even woke her up and fed her soup, telling her she could go back to sleep after she ate. Eventually she did get out of bed…but I think knowing her friends were nearby helped her.
You have loved ones that want to help you. Let them. You need it and they need to know they can help you, even if it’s in a small way.
Ah, Brynda.
After Jan died, I went to one of the best parties of my life after her funeral, but I think I was in shock and definitely not acting normal. Then I was in a cotton fog for four months. Then I cracked wide open on my birthday. Then the long reconstruction began.
It takes time and gentle care and hugs and wailing and going crazy and letting people support you. It won’t end, but it will recede. Even though there will always be things that remind you and take you back, it gets easier and you will live again.
PM me if you want to.
I know someone who lost a husband to cancer after a long battle, and I know that she went through similar pains, and I picked up on a trend. She never wanted to be around people who were going to feel sorry for her and make her feel awkward. There were a few gems out there (there always are) that skip the ‘sorry’ approach and they all reach a mutual understanding that “of course we are sorry, but we aren’t resorting to that all the time”, and they were just there for her, not preachy, not fake supportive and far from cliche.
Maybe they are out there. Maybe you need that. I don’t know. But I do know that if her parents, friend or in-laws wanted to help her because they felt sorry, she didn’t want any part of them.
You are a person of your very own accord, and people will flock to you for that alone. I don’t think you want them flocking to you because they feel it’s their duty, or out of sorrow. They want to be around you only because they care about you.
They are out there.
Thanks, everyone. I mean that. I found myself repeating what you said to my mother in law this morning, and then my friend this afternoon. I hope I will believe it, truly believe it, soon.
Brynda, I got my phone back.
I’m at nearly three months since Steve died. I’m on autopilot a lot of the time, and some things have gotten harder while other things have gotten easier. It’s almost like looking at a ballroom during a ball. There are patterns and starting and stopping points, but it’s also so close to chaos as to make no nevermind.
I’m sorry for what you’re going through, Brynda. Don’t worry about bringing other people down - they’ll want to help. Just try to get through the day.
People have been unbelievably kind. Today an employee from Rick’s former boss’s side company (not the one Rick worked for) came to look at my computer and help me with it. He refused to let me pay him and said I could call him anytime for help with it. I was paranoid about my car, so I took it to the garage we frequented this morning. When I told them why I was paranoid about it breaking down, they refused pay for checking it out. Several people have PMed me offering help or to talk, and you guys have all been so nice.
I have always operated under a “life is good, things will work out” philosophy. This has shaken me to my core. It helps that everyone has been so nice, but the centeral unfairness of Rick’s death remains.
I think you’ll find, despite what you hear on the news, most people are good and want to help.
And I’m stealing this from another post because it was just so darn cute. Maybe it will make you smile a bit.
“This can’t be me?”
You’re right. It’s not. You have always defined your ongoing relationship with Rick as part of your identity. That’s been ripped away from you, and your self-identity has suffered every bit as much as the rest of you as a result.
There’s a reason the process of getting back to a “normal” life is called rebuilding. Something’s been destroyed.
Luckily, we have other people around who can help. You’ll never be the same, and Rick will always hold a place in who you are, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be good again.
People tend to think mental or emotional injuries are different from physical ones, but I’ve actually always found them to be very similar, and when I was in REBT therapy a few years ago, that understanding was one of the things my shrink used to great effect.
If your legs got broken, you would hate the pain and the reduced mobility. You would hate the rehab. You’d hate the fact that you needed other people to do things for you had previously been able to do just fine. You’d hate it, but you likely wouldn’t beat yourself up over it. You’d understand that your legs don’t work and won’t work right for awhile. You’d be frustrated beyond description, but you’d understand it’s something that you had to go through and you’d go through it until you got better, knowing full well that there would times in the future that it would still hurt and that you’d be weaker than you were used to for quite a long time.
If you’d do this for a broken leg, a broken heart can’t be all that different. Give yourself a break (so to speak). Take advantage of every resource that’s available to you in re-building, and know that even though the pain will subside, your love and your memories never will.
Good luck. This is probably the hardest think you’ll ever do, but you’ll do it.
A Month? Hang in there. When my wife died, it took the better part of a year. For the first year, you can’t escape it even if you want to. For me everything was the “firsts” game. i.e. this is the first Christmas without her; this is the first <insert event> with her. I’ll get better. You’re in the hardest part right now. For the first few weeks everyone is checking up on you. Immediately following that people have to get back to their normal lives, and it’s not surprising you feel sort of hollow and empty right now. If you’re like me, a lot of your support system has resumed their normal lives.
But how do I hang in there? How did those of you who have been through this survive? Right now I am surviving simply because I have no chioce.
He was 32. We had only been married 6 years. I loved him so much, and he loved me with all his heart. This is so damn unfair.
It is unfair. There is nothing about this that doesn’t suck.
I think you get through it one day at a time. Are there any widow/widower support groups in your area? I love my Pink Ribbon Ladies breast cancer support group. There’s nothing like being with a group of people who know EXACTLY what you’re going through. I don’t mean being sympathetic. I mean knowing what chemo/radiation/etc means.
it is absolutly unfair! it is throw yourself on the floor full out tantrum unfair.
in some ways it would be great to just leap ahead 5 years and not have to deal with the pain of today.
one moment, one hour, one day, one week, one month, one year at a time. you just keep building time up. it is survivial. it is a struggle.
know that we are here for you any minute of the day or night.
Brynda, I keep meaning to tell you a quote I read in a book shortly after Steve died:
It helped me. I hope it helps you, too.
All I can do is send good thoughts your way.