kountryvet

So after a miserable week of spiraling out of control, I sought individual grief counseling. I figured it couldn't hurt. But as I think of it I am opening my mind to the possibility that someone might better help me find the way when I am lost. Last week, I packed the remaining items of Diane's, put them in a box and hauled them to the attic. I also closed her Facebook account and archived all the data. I received a lot of positives from her family and friends. But it wasn't easy. Not one iota. But I feel my strength returning. It isn't because of that, just a generalized comfort. I think I am even getting my smirk back. At least that is what I am being told. Funny, how the ups and downs go with this thing called grief. It is by no means linear. Wish it was, would make more sense to me. Thanks for all of your advice. Just wanted you to know it wasn't falling on deaf ears. Pat

Yeah.....Kristen. I am trying to catch up. I did send you a long note on my topic thread. But I too am a little concerned. One minute, one hour, one day..... Since, I just came back to forum, I am not completely up to speed. But I found comfort in your post. Hoping to hear more about your continued healing. Pat

Good morning all, And a special good morning to you Kristen. I am sorry this is a few days behind. Just got back from DC for a mini-vacation. Kristen I read some of your posts. And this isn't going to help a lot but yeah, I get them. And I am so sorry for your loss. It isn't fair and I think the aspect that makes it so poignant to you is you know the difference now between a good relationship and a bad one. I am assuming some things but that is certainly how I felt. So your at two months. Hell, I don't even remember the first two months. Just a blur. I don't know if the brain blocked or if it was the booze. I just don't remember the details. I do remember a switch about then and I think your right. It was a gutteral pain. Made me sick to my stomach. Couldn't get my breath. Physical manifestations of emotional pain is really the way I would describe it. And the loneliness. I didn't turn the TV off in any room for at least 4 months. I couldn't sleep. I really don't know what I would do without Diane in my life. And you are absolutely right. Everyone pulls away. I think it is two fold. One they don't know what to say and are afraid they will make it worse and two, they are scared that someday it could happen to them. My thoughts, no research. So I wanted to share some of the things I did that I think helped. Hopefully, others will either chime in or chastise me. But I wanted you to know what seemed to help. And that is the funny thing. Seemed. Do any of us really know if we are better. We think we are and then "WHAM" right back in the s***. And I also wanted you to know it will get better. You will heal. Don't know when, but I know you can. First, I think the shock is wearing off. And when it did for me, I found that this helped. I would tell people that I was "doing well" , "getting better". Yeah, right. But I would feel better. I wouldn't cry for a day or maybe it was an hour. I could go a few hours without thinking of Diane. "I was okay". And then I could feel the cycle starting. Something would get me going down a slippery slope of sadness. And I could feel it building over a few days or hours and I would fight. "Damn it, I am stronger than this". And I believe that made it worse. So I changed tactics and started to "feel" the sadness, the loneliness, the anger. I got all of the pictures out at night and without alcohol(I stress this), I would have a 4-6 hour cry. I mean that gut wrenching tears down your face, box of Kleenex, blubbering cry. I would redo the night she died. Everything we experienced together. The happy days, the okay days. The lazy sunday days. Just tear myself all the way down til I fell into a fitful sleep. And then the sun would come up, and strangely I would be better. It didn't happen right away the next day, but I could feel myself getting stronger. I think I did this 15-20 times. Probably still have some to do. But I have only had one in the past three months. See above. That was the middle of one. And the past three-four days I have been good. Second phase, third phase I dont know. But during one of these cycles I really crashed. Bad. Ended up having to go see someone because I was having bad thoughts. And that is not an option. Diane would kick my ass if she knew I quit. Literally, I think she would. LOL. Anyway, I drove about 4 hours to find the one man, my cousin, who was strong enough to let me share some of my dark thoughts. So I drove and found an old country station and I swear every song on that radio reminded me of Diane and our love. I cried and drove. And landed in the North woods of Wisconsin. We ate, we talked and we drank wine. Too much. And Chad woke me the next morning at 9, handed me a pair of snow shoes and made me go snowshoeing. Something I had never done. And I was still raw and hungover. We sweat and about an hour into this three hour walk, he turned to me and asked if I was alright. I wasn't but I asked him to leave me in the woods. I needed time to think. And I did. I realized then after a long introspective period. That several things where true. One, losing Diane I had lost half of me. My body, soul, and mind had died a little the day she died. And I needed time to heal. And it was going to take work. Two, I was doing something that was fun and a new experience for me and that to me meant that life was still worth it. I had more things to experience, more things to enjoy, and more to just do. And three, I had to change. I couldn't do some of the things that were so important to Diane and I. I couldn't expect me to heal if I continued to live as thou nothing changed. Diane wasn't coming back. We wouldn't sit on the porch and drink a nice wine on a warm summer's eve. So I needed to find new hobbies. Find stuff that Diane and I hadn't done together. So back on the Bike. Maybe snowshoeing was it. I am still working on that part. And I am still healing. But that February day I saw that there was a chance that I could heal. Before that I was really lost. Now as you can see by some of my earlier posts this week. It isn't easy. Its a bitch. And somedays, I don't want to work on it. Not unlike the people healing from major trauma or a stroke. They get frustrated, mad, depressed and generally have bad days. And I have a bunch of front of me. I know that. But at least here on this forum I can vent. I can put into words what I feel. And that is really cathartic for me. I don't know what you have to do for your work. I am just a country veterinarian with blue humour and a twisted sense of being. But know that you will find something, you'll see the light. You will have good experiences again. And you will heal. Scarred but healed. Well at least I believe you will. I hope this will help. But I really, get the hugs. That sucks, the lack of human contact. The knowing that someone loves you as much as you love them. I have to get some from my mother now and then. My kids think I'm a little weird, but its okay. They need hugs too. Back to work. Maybe the Bike again today. Its going to be a beautiful day here and I am going to enjoy that. Pat (((hugs)))

Thank you Stephen and KayC. I vented this morning and now I'm okay. Not great, but okay. And I know it isn't easy or fair to any of us. I think writing my thoughts is cathartic. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and I hear them, just don't always listen. LOL. And so I am back to this. Maybe someday I'll do counseling. Tried it once but it was with a lot of older widows and I just didn't get the connection. My "moving on" seemed different. I had to work. Too possibly do this again. I don't know if that was fair but it's what I felt. Anyway, no sad thoughts this afternoon. Work is going well today and I am hitting the bike trail for some much needed time alone. Maybe that is the work you discuss. I think that is the part that's so frustrating. Looking for an answer that isn't available. Looking for that epiphany that says I am better. I know it doesn't happen that way, but can I hope. Thank you again for your kind words. Patience seems to be the key. Not my strong suit. But I can work on it. :] Pat.

That's it. I think I finally figured out what it is that I am having the toughest time with. I feel so different and at times I really don't feel comfortable on here because of the things I think and do. But I didn't sign on for this thing called "grief". I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS. There I said it. I do not want to be doing this anymore. I don't want to cry when they play a particular song. I want to be able to watch Grey's Anatomy with my daughters and not have the slow sadness creep over me. I don't want people to say well he did that because his wife died. I want my damn life back. When Diane told me she had cancer. I held her and told it would be all right. When they "butchered" her I held her and told her she was still a sexy and all "woman". When that damn cough came and I knew that the son of a bitch came back. I cried with her. I lied to her. A lot. I am a veterinarian. I know the course of action. And I bold face lied to her and told her she had a chance. I held her hair back as she pucked every day as the chemo "tried to kill her almost". I cleaned drains. I took off work. And now I have to go to work. I have to try and run this damn clinic and I could give a flying crap about anything. So here I am at eleven months and I am no where. And I did not sign on for this part. Isn't it enough. I gave Cancer 16 months. Now another 11. And I read your posts and some of you are out 30 months or 5 years. God that depresses me. I don't want to do it. I don't want anymore work. I don't want another assignment. I want to be better. I want a pill. Cut it out. But I do not want to do this anymore. I want to be healed. There. That's how I feel. Please someone else who is a "mental midget" tell me they have some of these same thoughts.

Hi I am back. Wow. Have I ever done this thing so wrong. I am a fricking mess. I just don't care anymore. I'm not suicidal. I wouldn't do that to my kids. But I feel so damaged. And I blatantly did so many stupid things. Too damn impulsive. I thought I was tougher. Thought I was more intelligent. Thought I had to just get through the initial pain. But now all I feel is numb like so many of you have shared. And alone. And so damn bored. Heck, food doesn't even taste anymore. I mean really. I understand I am rambling. Its what I do. And it is even worse now. I am on here tonight because you all understand. And my friends don't know what to do with me anymore. They look past us don't they. They just don't want to look into my eyes. To see the pain, the despair, the anguish. They are scared to walk in my shoes. And it just makes it that much worse. I process by verbalizing. So instead of scaring the hell out of my friends, I will write my words. Maybe they make sense to some of you. I really don't care. I just need to get them out of my head before I go crazy. Funny how I am almost writing the same words from 6 months ago. Just reread my first post. Kinda scared me how little change there is from then. I bought a house for Diane. She loved it. Why? I am so stuck now. I closed on the house 2 days after she died. I wouldn't move her in. I didn't want MY first experience in the house to be watching her die. I fought with my mother in law about it. I fought with Diane about it. I am so filled with guilt that I didn't fulfill Diane's dying wish. I watched her die in a fricking rental. Sorry Im using that word a lot. I've got another word, but I'll keep it PG. But damn it I had to live in this house. I was going to have to keep moving on, right? Anyway, the house sat for two months. I didn't finish moving until this last march. Huh. I literally watched as others packed up the remaining things of Diane's and we moved them into the new garage. More on that later. So, the house wasn't quite right. Hired my best friend, a carpenter, and proceeded to spend 65000 dollars over budget to make the house right. It is beautiful but now I am trapped. My little town doesn't support 250000 dollar homes no matter how nice they are. So I have managed to piss away a significant amount of my retirement. Yeah. It gets better. I drank. Yeah, I know. What the hell is the matter with you? That's what "country boys" do when the pain is too much. So I drank, and drank, and drank. Not tonight. For the first time in I don't remember. I don't know if I am an alcoholic now. We will see. It would really be miserable if I am because I really like a nice red wine now and then. Im going to hold myself to a couple drinks now and then. If I can't stop. I'll seek treatment. But wait it gets better. And I dated. and dated, and dated. Yeah, I know. What the hell? I told you I made mistakes. I apparently am of weak mind. And we all know why I did it. To fill a void. To have someone to hold. To feel good for an hour or two. Well at least that is what I think I was doing. To be honest it gave me something to focus on. Wished I had put that focus to good use. But here are the things that no one talks about. So maybe this is the real gist of my post. 1) Diane came to me before she died and asked me to move on. She knew I was a good man and that I would ultimately make someone a fantastic partner again. Her words not mine. 2) I feel like the clock is ticking and it is multifactorial. a) I think I watched an incredibly vivacious person die in the course of 16 months, why cant that happen to me I'm 47 and I want to continue making love and I can feel the body fading. The back is tired more. The belly is looser. I want to have relations whilst I still can. I know stupid, but it is what my mind is telling me. And 3) We had it. I mean real love. The kind that when we spoke of each other our friends could see our faces light up. I didn't ever, not once bitch about Diane to any of my friends over a beer. Never. Not that she didn't do things that drove me a little crazy, but I certainly didn't bitch about them. I told a friend the other night after he asked me what it meant to be truly in love, how do you know he asked. I told him that true love is with every action, every decision, I would think how it would affect Diane. I know that is really simple, but it is how I see it. So now I am stuck. Wishing for what was. Knowing that it is possible, yet wondering if I will ever be "Healed" again. I know time, patience, it will happen when your ready. If I had a dollar......? So maybe that is why I am here. I look for that one post when somebody says yeah, I am better. I found someone and it is good.... Give me a little hope, that I will not still be writing these rambling posts at 11 o'clock on a sunday night. I want to be better. I want to smile. And dammit, I want someone to hold me again. I mean really hold you, and look into my eyes and say "Pat, its going to be okay" So that's my status update. I think I'll try to be more active here. Maybe it will help. And hopefully, I will be an asset to this community.

Amw, It never ceases to amaze me how similar some of our thoughts are. Not necessarily yours and mine, but people going through grief. Every time I get on this board someone is going through my exact stage, my exact thoughts, my exact experiences. And so this morning I am writing about one day with Di. Or at least I will try. I would want it to be a warm spring Sunday, but like some of you any day would be fine. We would sleep in until 8, most likely Diane would get up ahead of me. I would smell the coffee on. I would go get the paper up town and the two of us would share a cup of coffee and process the days news. We would be sitting on the Sun porch, watching the traffic go by. Watching the locals as they walked their dogs, maybe even call out to an aquaintence or two. On several occassions one of us would read a news story to the other and then we would discuss. Why it was important, why are there so many injustices, how it effects us. It could even get a little heated as we "discuss". I would turn my attention to breakfast. Possibly biscuits and gravy, maybe just bacon. We would continue to read the paper as we ate our meal. Once the dishes were washed. Diane would do them, she always did and I would watch her move. Paying particular attention to how much grace she had even in the simple tasks. I probably would hold her as she finished. Smelling her hair, allowing myself a playful touch, we both knew what was happening and it was going to be that kind of Sunday. After our lovemaking we would return to the Newspaper. Its time for the crossword. We could spend hours doing the NYT crossword. Using computers, dictionaries, what ever to find the most obscure answers to questions. Our favorites would have many questions relating to literature. Once done, we would hop into the shower. Maybe together maybe not. I would listen to the hairdryer going, I don't know why but that is a sound that I miss so much. Every morning that squeal always told me that Diane was getting ready for the day. Now, I hear quiet. Funny the things we miss. Since we know this is our day and we have nothing to be concerned about but what we want to do together, we would throw the "Buffy the Vampire" Cd in. Watch her favorite episodes. Diane loved the show. The references to shakespeare, the hidden meanings of certain passages, the brilliance of Josh Whedon as he brought his characters to life. I could take it or leave it but I loved watching her eyes dance as she explained how this scene had these nuances. As evening got closer, it would be time for Dinner. I think homemade Pizza on the grill. The two of us talking and working as one to bring the most simple meal to life. Probably open a bottle of Cab. Something nice. Sit on the deck as the sun was setting, talking about everything and nothing. The smell of the wood fire and the sound of her voice giving me the knowledge that all was good in this world. As the night progressed, we would retire to bed. I would hold her dear and tell her once more how truly special, how deeply I loved, and how blessed I was that Diane had come into my life. That is my day with Diane.

Good morning, I don't really know what to expect anymore. I have slipped into a haze and I really thought I was moving forward. I am beginning to think that the last 4 months that I was in denial and that just know I am starting to process. The weird thing about that is that I thought that about 2 months ago, and about 1 month ago, and about 2 weeks ago. I realize that it is a roller coaster of emotions but at some time the ebbs and flows of it should start mellowing shouldn't they? I am Pat and my wife was Diane. We met 7 years ago today on Match.com. I was trying to heal from a divorce and really thought I just needed some attention again in my wife from some new people. It truly was instantaneous(sp?). From our early emails to the first time I saw her we knew we had a special connection. I tried to fight it even, thinking that Di was just a rebound. She moved in and we started making that special history that binds us to each other. We married on Jan 1st, 2011 in San Diego and thought we had finally found true happiness. On April 12th of 2011 we found out that she had breast cancer. Stage 1a they told us after her double mastectomy. The odds of any recurrance are "extremly low". "You'll be fine and should expect a normal life expectancy" they said. On Dec 23rd of last year after we had been dealing with a persistant cough she was moved to Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. We will never know why she was so unlucky but she was. The cancer never gave her a break and she passed on July 25th of 2012 a day before her 42nd birthday. That's Diane's sad story and I am sure it isn't much different then any of yours. I know that time heals, but I feel stuck. I fight to get out of bed. I fight to eat, I just don't see the point. I don't think I am suicidal but I just don't understand what the point is. I had what so many people are looking for, a true soulmate. Not a wife, not a roommate. A partner, a lover, a friend, a confidant and now nothing. My friends don't get it. They want me to "get over it", "move on", "maybe if you met someone else". They can't see the dull ache, the emptiness in my eyes, and they sure don't want to talk about it. Maybe they are scared that the don't want to see the true side of pain. Why are they distancing themselves from me? Are they afraid they don't know what to say? I want them to listen. This is where you all come in. I came here about two months ago and browsed around. I don't know any of you from "Adam", but maybe that is okay. I hope that by writting down my feelings now and then that it will be cathartic. I can hope, right? I am going to work now, try to find some purpose in the day, hopefully today it will be a "good one". Thanks for listening. Pat