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How did I get here?


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4 hours ago, Widowedbysuicide said:

 I think about getting something done in the yard and then I'm inundated with the 'why bother'.  He isn't here to notice

 

We had a beautiful backyard but then I, too, struggle with the why bothers.  There is nobody to sit back there with and listen to the pond.  The only time someone is back there is when I'm raking leaves/pine needles.  Our dry season is April through June.  Normally I would hire a neighbor kid to water while I'm gone, but why bother.  

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Another garden being neglected here.  Al loved to work in his garden.  We had so many beautiful flowers, lots of veggies, a flower tower and lots of moon flowers.  Notice I said HAD.  Why bother.

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I cancelled the colonoscopy.  It was too much to take in alone.  My regular doc agreed and since half our serotonin resides in our gut, the mind/body link is tight so since I am so messed up mentally, it seems ridiculous to do it.  Especially since I don't care.  Even if they could guarantee it would make me feel better, I'd be dumped back into an empty alone life.  Hardly motivating.  

Its amazing how draining this is.  I hate sitting doing nothing, but little things like filling the dogs water bowl to cleaning a sink seems as daunting as painting the house top to bottom.   That eats at your sense of worth.  Sense of being a part of life with a purpose.  

Brad, you are so right.  Doing many things had so much meaning because they were shared to enjoy.  There was a time in early grief I found accomplishment in them, but after so long it does brome a 'why bother'.  Then it becomes a reminder when you let things slide.  I look at our yard and wish  did more than I have to.  I used to love to look outside and see work I/we did.  Same with the inside.  I do the routine cleanning and it often doesn't need it.  I guess routine fills some void.  What a catch 22.  

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Gwen - I am so sorry you are struggling so with everything.  Health, activity, emotions are all so interconnected and when one is amiss everything degrades; and then to be so deeply entrenched in grief only magnifies the emptiness, loneliness, and sense of futility.  

You are thought of often.

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I haven't had a garden since George died...I tried to keep his going but my thumbs are not green!  I've let everything go back to "natural" and my "yard work" consists of picking up the never ending branches the storms send down.

Gwen, I understand.  You have to do what is best for you.

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((((Gwen))))

Oh how proud I once was of my gardens, too.  Now, just a literal overgrown jungle :(  Do I really want it back the way it was? Would it be too hard to look at what used to be?  It's just not in the cards right now... gotta eat my pride every time I pull into the driveway, looking at the disaster...

Patty

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I have been reading emails from 3 years ago, when my boyfriend was in hospital at that time. Myself writing that things were going pretty well and soon he would be released. Telling my friends about our holidays plans and maybe wedding for next year. I cannot recongnise myself, was it me the author of those? I am so different now. Was it me the one who was hopeful and optimistic? My soul still cannot fully and totally believe this happened, he died weeks later for God's sake! HE NEVER LEFT THE HOSPITAL AGAIN! We never got married, never went on holidays and the following year I was a not married widow.

If this is not trauma, what is it?

Who I was before all of this?

Just letting this out,,,,

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Ana,

so very hard to accept the loss of our loved one.  And YES we are so different now.  Hard to recognize our old selves.  As sick as Al was, I never expected him to die.  He had been thru so much and always pulled thru.  It is a hard road we are all on.  Thinking of you, Ana.

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There is such an abyss between my Old inner self and new inner self that my brain plays this trick for that I must have made up my former life.

Was he real? It's been so long since the last time I saw him. 

I must be crazy

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Nope, not crazy, Ana.  I go thru it every day.  My love fir him isn't slipping away, but I do wonder if he was real sometimes because the time passing and him not being here twist up my brain.  I have the memories he was here and the things he left behind.  But they never move or are used anymore.  I never have to clean up after him, buy things I used to for dinners, run decisions by him or ask for his help.  Can't talk to him about just another day.  If it weren't for his things I might wonder if it was a fantasy, and a great one at that.  But I see his handwriting and the notes he saved I left for him.  Those are real so it must have happened.  And the gut wrenching pain?  That's not from anything I made up.  Feeling crazy is my normal state right now and I hate because once upon a time......I was happy because of him.

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Ana,

It's so hard to look back at our writings "before".  We were in such innocence before!  That was all before our world came crashing down.  We were going along about our business thinking things would go a certain way and...nope!  Crash, boom!  Everything changed.  What I always wondered is how is it that everyone else's world seemed to survive intact?!  How is it THEY could carry out their plans and it was only OUR plans that were dashed!

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Gwen,

I've felt the same way, it's all so surreal, I've wondered if I made him up, if our life ever really existed, we were really happy like that!  I, too, look at the tangible evidence, his ID, his handwriting, pictures, I know with my brain he existed, but my heart feels sometimes like it was all a dream...

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Gwen and Kay, I feel the same way, that I must have made Dale up in my mind.  I too, look at his belongings that says he was here and real, but yet it doesn't feel that way.  It is so very difficult to get your brain and heart to work together and have the same feelings most of the time.  If this was/is a dream.....I want to wake up!!!

Joyce

 

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Okay, I know the topic "How did I get here" and I know I got here probably about October 20th, three days after Billy left me.  See, I still consider "he left me."  I know it was not on purpose, but I hate the words "death, dying, died" even though they are true.  Somehow or other, even at our ages, I wished he had "left me" for another woman, or even a man.  Would make me "less a woman" but I don't know how I could get any less than I am right now.  Still sometimes cannot think he is gone.  I look to the sky, I talk to the sky, I talk to him and Jesus.  But, I do not feel him with me, I just feel he "left me" and is not coming back.  Sometimes my way of thinking is not like everyone or anyone elses way of thinking.  I cannot really think of him as gone.  I cannot see him and he won't talk to me, and intelligently I know he is gone.  I know he is not coming back.  I've said over and over "I've never been on my own" and I guess I still am not on my own.  I have people all around me.  I have a daughter that thought her name was Dorothy and went looking in Kansas for the Land of Oz, and I cannot get her home.  I knew she would get up there and be stuck.  I beg Billy to help me.  I beg Jesus to help me.  I don't know how good I'm doing raising a teenager.  She is 17 and is still scared of the world.  She faces school each day.  She goes to therapy.  I take her to the doctor.  She has thyroid problems.  My sister is not well and has to look for some way of making money this summer.  What do you tell someone with so many degrees how to find a job, how to go to whatever department that helps with these things?  I don't have answers to anything.  The will to live is very much alive in me because "I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, RF"  I might want to be with Billy, and if I was gone, these people would have to live for themselves and solve their own problems.  Like Billy said "if you are gone your pain and your worries will be all over with and the people that love you will have these problems."  I don't want to leave anyone any problems.

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Marg, you wouldn't be leaving anyone any problems, those are already THEIR problems, they would just be forced to deal with them somehow, and they would!  As long as you are here and let them, they will turn to you for solutions or bandaids.

I have the opposite problem, a daughter so private she won't even talk to me when she is grieving, she won't talk to anyone in the family.  Seems there should be a happy medium somewhere!

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