Jealousy has a way of worming itself into my life no matter how hard I try to keep it out. Broken down most simply: I am jealous of those who have a partner to go home to. Jealous of all the advantages that go along with having a life partner. Jealous of the things that partnered people get to experience every day without even giving it a second thought.
The comfort in making their favorite meal.
Their smell when they get out of the shower.
Coming home from a particularly harsh day at work to your favorite ice cream in the freezer.
The butterflies you still get in the pit of your stomach when they kiss you, no matter how many years it has been.
Getting a text or a phone call at lunch just to check in and say hi.
Having someone else to help with errands and activities and housework.
The completely relaxed feeling you get when you are snuggled up watching a movie together on the couch while the kids are sleeping.
Date nights.
I don't particularly like that jealousy has gotten into my life this way. It is eating away little bits of my personality. Making me bitter. Making me snippy. Dulling the sheen on my rose-colored glasses outlook on life.
I want the green eyed monster to go back to the cave from whence he came and stop torturing me.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Insomnia sucks!
I could say insomnia is my new best friend. If that were the truth. I get where people would think that it isn't really that bad, it allows you to get things done that you normally wouldn't have the time to do, etc. they would be right. For the first night. Then comes day two. And day three. After the third day of barely sleeping, one ceases to function during the day too.
You can't remember things. You forget important things like a test, or your son's karate class.
Your room/house is a mess because you are taking what little energy you have left to make it through waking hours to do the things that you can, with the least amount of energy that you can, and that definitely does not include cleaning.
Eating? Yup, cross that one off the list too. When you can't sleep your appetite goes out the window, which then gives you no energy to get through the day - a horrid, vicious little cycle.
Conversations with other people dwindle down to nothing because nothing makes sense. You don't focus enough to listen well, and then when you do formulate an answer in your foggy brain, it usually comes out jumbled. I've re-read texts I've sent while exhausted and they are not a pretty sight.
Inevitably, someone will recommend sleeping pills. Which sound like a great solution. Except that they are not. At least not for me. I find sleeping pill sleep to be not all that restful and rejuvenating. It is like someone turns of a switch and then 10 hours later turns it back on. There is a lot of fogginess and confusion upon waking up, and I am still sluggish during the day. Not to mention the addiction issues.
Other home remedies are hilarious too...
Tea.
Warm milk.
Meditation.
Reading a book.
Watching a long, boring movie.
Counting backwards from 100. Or 200.
Finally, maybe around the fourth day of subsisting on MAYBE two to three hours of sleep a night, you collapse at 6pm from sheer exhaustion. Only to wake up at 2 am. After all, you have already been sleeping for 8 hours!! And so the cycle begins again.....
No wonder they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture.
You can't remember things. You forget important things like a test, or your son's karate class.
Your room/house is a mess because you are taking what little energy you have left to make it through waking hours to do the things that you can, with the least amount of energy that you can, and that definitely does not include cleaning.
Eating? Yup, cross that one off the list too. When you can't sleep your appetite goes out the window, which then gives you no energy to get through the day - a horrid, vicious little cycle.
Conversations with other people dwindle down to nothing because nothing makes sense. You don't focus enough to listen well, and then when you do formulate an answer in your foggy brain, it usually comes out jumbled. I've re-read texts I've sent while exhausted and they are not a pretty sight.
Inevitably, someone will recommend sleeping pills. Which sound like a great solution. Except that they are not. At least not for me. I find sleeping pill sleep to be not all that restful and rejuvenating. It is like someone turns of a switch and then 10 hours later turns it back on. There is a lot of fogginess and confusion upon waking up, and I am still sluggish during the day. Not to mention the addiction issues.
Other home remedies are hilarious too...
Tea.
Warm milk.
Meditation.
Reading a book.
Watching a long, boring movie.
Counting backwards from 100. Or 200.
Finally, maybe around the fourth day of subsisting on MAYBE two to three hours of sleep a night, you collapse at 6pm from sheer exhaustion. Only to wake up at 2 am. After all, you have already been sleeping for 8 hours!! And so the cycle begins again.....
No wonder they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Half-life
There are days when widowhood feels something like a half-life. You're going along in your perfectly full life, with a whole family and a happy home and your cute little shared space, content and blissfully unaware of what it would be like if all of a sudden it wasn't there anymore.
And then is isn't.
You become a half. The left over half. The left behind half. The half that will always be missing a piece and will never quite be whole again. The half that now has all the responsibility of a whole, only with half the will to do it. Half the time to do it. Half the skill set to do it.
I'm hoping that this half-life, like most other things with a half-life, will reduce into nothing. My half-life will fade away, being replaced by a full life. A life where I took the responsibility of raising two impressionable young boys all on my own and they turn out okay. A life where I graduate from school and do everything with my newfound knowledge that I have ever wanted to do. A life where I find the time to do everything I have to do and still have the time to do what I want to do. A life where I find that other half that doesn't fit perfectly, but fits right enough that you can hardly see the cracks. Maybe not a full life, but most certainly a 9/10 life.
That would certainly be better than the half I'm living in right now.
And then is isn't.
You become a half. The left over half. The left behind half. The half that will always be missing a piece and will never quite be whole again. The half that now has all the responsibility of a whole, only with half the will to do it. Half the time to do it. Half the skill set to do it.
I'm hoping that this half-life, like most other things with a half-life, will reduce into nothing. My half-life will fade away, being replaced by a full life. A life where I took the responsibility of raising two impressionable young boys all on my own and they turn out okay. A life where I graduate from school and do everything with my newfound knowledge that I have ever wanted to do. A life where I find the time to do everything I have to do and still have the time to do what I want to do. A life where I find that other half that doesn't fit perfectly, but fits right enough that you can hardly see the cracks. Maybe not a full life, but most certainly a 9/10 life.
That would certainly be better than the half I'm living in right now.
Getting On With It
Getting on with it....this statement can have both positive and negative connotations. I think the way I look at it depends on the mood I am in for the day.
Positive...I've woken up. I've taken a shower. I actually managed to get dressed and take on the day. I realized today that yesterday was a year and a half since B was gone and it didn't really affect me in the way that I thought it would. There was no ridiculous countdown clock blinking in my head like I thought there would be. Things went on just as normal. Life (and I with it) were getting on with things. School, homework, activities, dinner, family time, bed time. Same stuff, different day.
Negative...I don't want to get up. I didn't sleep well. Bad dreams. Anxiety at a new high. Im not showering today. I'm not going to school today. I heard today that someone told another one on my widda brothers/sisters that they should get on with it. Start dating. Get past it. When are people going to realize that there is not getting past it. You might have gotten past it, but we haven't. Your life goes on, ours stops. Obliterated by a train that apparently destroyed our lives and kept right on trucking.
Getting on with it happens at different paces with different people. For some it happens right away. They find a new relationship, new meaning for life, new purpose. For some, it takes a little longer. They are wary of new relationships, finding instead different avenues to getting on like going back to school, or getting super involved with a new job, or kids, or fur kids, anything that absorbs the loneliness. For the rest, they aren't quite there yet. There isn't any getting on with it right now. The grief is too rough, too raw, to dreadfully painful to even breathe, let alone get on with life.
Give it a minute.
You too, will get on with it.
Positive...I've woken up. I've taken a shower. I actually managed to get dressed and take on the day. I realized today that yesterday was a year and a half since B was gone and it didn't really affect me in the way that I thought it would. There was no ridiculous countdown clock blinking in my head like I thought there would be. Things went on just as normal. Life (and I with it) were getting on with things. School, homework, activities, dinner, family time, bed time. Same stuff, different day.
Negative...I don't want to get up. I didn't sleep well. Bad dreams. Anxiety at a new high. Im not showering today. I'm not going to school today. I heard today that someone told another one on my widda brothers/sisters that they should get on with it. Start dating. Get past it. When are people going to realize that there is not getting past it. You might have gotten past it, but we haven't. Your life goes on, ours stops. Obliterated by a train that apparently destroyed our lives and kept right on trucking.
Getting on with it happens at different paces with different people. For some it happens right away. They find a new relationship, new meaning for life, new purpose. For some, it takes a little longer. They are wary of new relationships, finding instead different avenues to getting on like going back to school, or getting super involved with a new job, or kids, or fur kids, anything that absorbs the loneliness. For the rest, they aren't quite there yet. There isn't any getting on with it right now. The grief is too rough, too raw, to dreadfully painful to even breathe, let alone get on with life.
Give it a minute.
You too, will get on with it.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Friends and family
The kids and I were lucky enough to have a wonderful support network of friends and family as we started on this crazy new life. My mom and stepdad were gracious enough to let us move into their home on a full time basis so I didn't have to be alone. Very good friends of ours let us stay at their house every weekend so I had some social interaction. One of my best friends convinced me to go back to school and helped me to find my path there. My dad and stepmom take the kids on vacation and give me some breathing space. My in laws help me discuss boy things with the kids that I wouldn't even begin to have a clue about.
In this support system, I am truly lucky. It is nice when I am having a particularly rough day to be able to grab a cup of coffee with a friend and just chat. Or know that when I need help because I have over scheduled or run into a snag with school and kiddo activities that I have people who will help me out. To all of the people that have been there for us over the last year and a half ....I thank you. From the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul, I thank you. There is no way I could have gotten through any of this, let alone be going back to school and doing as well as I am and keeping the boys in a relatively active lifestyle without you.
XOXO
Moral of the story.....if you know someone who is struggling (it doesn't even have to be with a loss), reach out. You never know when that smile or cup of coffee or simple "are you ok" will make a difference.
In this support system, I am truly lucky. It is nice when I am having a particularly rough day to be able to grab a cup of coffee with a friend and just chat. Or know that when I need help because I have over scheduled or run into a snag with school and kiddo activities that I have people who will help me out. To all of the people that have been there for us over the last year and a half ....I thank you. From the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul, I thank you. There is no way I could have gotten through any of this, let alone be going back to school and doing as well as I am and keeping the boys in a relatively active lifestyle without you.
XOXO
Moral of the story.....if you know someone who is struggling (it doesn't even have to be with a loss), reach out. You never know when that smile or cup of coffee or simple "are you ok" will make a difference.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Everything in excess
One interesting thing I have discovered about myself now that I am navigating this interesting new life I have is that I do everything to much more excess than I ever did before. This is both a huge positive and a huge negative.
I latch on to friendships much more fiercely.
I obsess about trivial things to the point where they induce so much anxiety in me that I cannot sleep. I go out too much for a month, then I will hibernate in my room for a month.
I will go days without communicating with anyone, then it will be all anyone can do to get me to shut up.
I make mountains out of molehills.
I talk too loud and drink too much.
I binge eat.
I work out in obsessive fits and starts.
I have a lot of first dates, not a lot of second dates.
I emotionally latch on to people that should just be casual acquaintances and push away people that should be lifelong friends.
I am too cavalier with who I share myself with.
I forget that not all people who smile at you are your friends.
I look for the good in people, sometimes making it up when I can't find any, just to not have to remove the person from my life.
I'm so obsessed with maintaining a perfect GPA that anything less than an A puts me in the foulest mood imaginable.
The word moderation isn't even in my vocabulary anymore.
Death vs. Divorce
I know this may ruffle some feathers out there, but if feel it needs to be discussed. What I see as a common theme in many of my widow support groups is the comparison thing. It is like the "keeping up with the Jones's" of grief. I know that it is the non bereaved trying to comfort those of us who have lost the loves of our lives by trying to be empathetic, but trust me when I say it is SOOOO very different. Yes, loss is loss, but to those of us who have lost a spouse, it feels less like empathy and more like the trivialization of the worst thing that has ever happened to us.
I do have a fairly personal angle that I can bring to this. I have now experienced the loss of a spouse twice, once to divorce, and once to death. My divorce was not particularly acrimonious, but I did lose a best friend.
A confidante.
A partner in crime.
A travel companion.
A person who, despite all of my flaws, loved me.
When it was over we didn't speak, and I nursed a broken heart for a while, but I knew, deep down, he was still out there somewhere. That maybe, someday, we would be able to see each other again. We would be able to speak again. We would be able to share a beer, share a laugh, share a wink and a smile, hell, maybe even share a bed. It's a loss, but certainly not a permanent one.
The death of B was also not particularly dramatic. He went to work, and never came home. I lost a best friend.
A soulmate.
A cuddle buddy.
A fantastic father of two very impressionable young boys.
A person who, despite all of my flaws, loved me with his dying breath.
When it was over, I felt like someone had amputated a part of my soul. I knew, deep down that he just would never walk through the door again. No matter how hard I wished, my someday life with him wasn't going to happen. We wouldn't ever speak again. We would never again share a beer, a laugh or a bed ever again. It was most definitely a loss. A VERY permanent one.
So, to offer a small bit of advice when you are in the presence of a person who has truly lost their soulmate in that very permanent death kind of way....don't compare. Be supportive, listen, agree that it really truly sucks, and offer a comforting ear.
I do have a fairly personal angle that I can bring to this. I have now experienced the loss of a spouse twice, once to divorce, and once to death. My divorce was not particularly acrimonious, but I did lose a best friend.
A confidante.
A partner in crime.
A travel companion.
A person who, despite all of my flaws, loved me.
When it was over we didn't speak, and I nursed a broken heart for a while, but I knew, deep down, he was still out there somewhere. That maybe, someday, we would be able to see each other again. We would be able to speak again. We would be able to share a beer, share a laugh, share a wink and a smile, hell, maybe even share a bed. It's a loss, but certainly not a permanent one.
The death of B was also not particularly dramatic. He went to work, and never came home. I lost a best friend.
A soulmate.
A cuddle buddy.
A fantastic father of two very impressionable young boys.
A person who, despite all of my flaws, loved me with his dying breath.
When it was over, I felt like someone had amputated a part of my soul. I knew, deep down that he just would never walk through the door again. No matter how hard I wished, my someday life with him wasn't going to happen. We wouldn't ever speak again. We would never again share a beer, a laugh or a bed ever again. It was most definitely a loss. A VERY permanent one.
So, to offer a small bit of advice when you are in the presence of a person who has truly lost their soulmate in that very permanent death kind of way....don't compare. Be supportive, listen, agree that it really truly sucks, and offer a comforting ear.
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