Froggie4635

Is it a bad idea to actively look at or listen to things that I know will make me cry and hurt? I am reading many different books on grieving and loss of a spouse and I think I have gotten to the point of over saturation. It's hard that there are no set "rules" for grieving. I am a black and white person...grey areas give me problems. It is why I took a job in accounting; no grey areas. There are set procedures and anything that is different from the procedures can get you into trouble (with auditors). I think I am doing pretty well. There is part of me that wonders what is down the road, but I know I shouldn't place that kind of pressure on myself. The moments that catch me about the future, I don't like, for Mark will not be a part of it, at least in the same way as before. I feel cheated about that. When I get in my most emotional moments, all I can find myself saying is "I hate this" over and over again. I don't want to become one of those people that gets avoided because of my grieving. I read so many posts and see that there are people who have things worse than me, are suffering so much more and dealing with so many more things. Since I was the one who took care of the finances, I am not struggling with that (except for waiting for word about the insurance to pay off the car). I have a fellow widow (becoming a wonderful friend) at work who is dealing with the suicide of her spouse, and the problems being created for her by his family. But as all the books state, this is MY grieving, personal to me and I shouldn't try to lessen its importance. I have had people tell me that Mark wouldn't want me to be sad, but that is not true. mark knew how much I loved him and would know how I would hurt. He knew, because I always told him, that he was my star, my partner, my cowboy. We both appreciated each other and were thankful EVERY DAY that we were brought together. When the thought pops into my head that he is gone and my life will have to be different, I try to make it go away quickly, because some times it is like a white hot touch and I repel from it. I am still the same caring person I was before, and I do find moments where I can be funny and help someone to laugh, sometimes through the tears. I did truly love my life, but at this time that has changed. I love my job, my friends, my doggies, my family - that has not changed. I feel so sorry for the hurt that so many people on this forum are experiencing. But for now, it is hard to see beyond the pain I am feeling. I appreciate all the kind words I read, and hope one day to be able to add some words of wisdom along with all those who are here. I am still trying to gain my footing and put together the pieces of my life. I haven't quite found the method that works just yet...scotch tape and glue won't fix this. But I am thankful to have a place to write my feelings down. My journal at this time is mostly just automatic writings, things that come into my head, but I am continuing to do it. Learning to give myself time and love are challenging, but I have never run away from a challenge in my life and I won't start now.

Thank you, Shalady. I have always had a hard time being good to myself. Mark and I were each others cheerleaders. When he was down, I worked to lift him up. And he would do the same for me. When he would tell me "I'm so glad you're here, I'm so glad you said yes" (when he proposed), I felt all warm inside. I had finally found someone who accepted me, and loved me unconditionally. And I did the same for him. Marriage is all about good and bad, accepting those things and not trying to change them. Getting married at a later age, we both had been through all the stupid stuff and came out the other side. We knew who we were, and that is what made our marriage so wonderful. He took good care of me. I was a completely independent woman before we married, but all that time I was biding my time until I could find someone who would share my life and I wouldn't feel so alone. Mark always felt lost; while he was biding his time and feeling alone, he had resigned himself that he would spend the rest of his life alone. I came along and he started to have hope. I was very good at loving him. And now I need to be good at loving me.

Mark was a boy scout and made many trips as a scout. He loved nature and the mountains. In fact, I have a picture of El Capitan that he took and had enlarged...I found it among some of his things. He talked about taking me to Texas Hill Country. He traveled to most of the parts of Texas. I guess I am feeling cheated about all the things we didn't get to do. Yesterday was bad. There is a small part of me that doesn't want to go on without him, that if I found out I had some bad illness I wouldn't want to fight. But each day I get up, get ready for work, do my job, move myself along to the next day. I know you have to create a new "normal". Isn't 11 weeks a long time to be feeling like this?

Mark and I joked about getting away from here and finding a place in Montana. When he had a bad day..He would say, "wonder what it's like in Montana".

Nothing special. There are so many things around the house that still need done. We were never able to take vacations because of Mark's work schedule (he was a mechanic on commission). Financially I not really able to travel, plus with three dogs to take care of, it is easier to stay home. I never minded because I love our house and everything about taking care of it. There are many things I still need to go through; I am trying to clear out the garage. Mark's brother comes over and takes care of the yard. This is my favorite time of year here in Houston. It remains pretty cool during the day, and a little chilly at night. It won't be long before the heat is back. I am originally from up north in PA. Mark was born and raised in Texas. We had always talked about going back to PA. He wanted to see where I grew up. There were so many parts of my life he couldn't share in except through my sharing of memories. I would like to spend some time in my studio (I do artwork with paint chips), but my focus is just not there. Cleaning doesn't take much focus. I do it until I get tired, then I stop.

I am grateful to work where I do. I have been here going on 13 years, and it is like family. When Mark and I got married (at this very location), my co-workers represented my family. Mark has a large family; 9 brothers and sisters. I had already posted this morning that it was the anniversary for one of Mark's brothers yesterday and they posted pictures from their wedding 21 years ago. It just caused me to cry last night, and still this morning. I work with a great bunch of folks. When Mark got rushed to the hospital, I had 4 co-workers with me when I went to make the arrangements for Mark's cremation. I had a friend from work take me to follow the ambulance that morning. In fact, they took up a collection to pay for the cremation. Staying focused comes and goes, but I am in an office area that doesn't get a lot of outside traffic. I can be in my cubicle and work to focus on my job, and also work on grieving. I really wanted to stay home today; I have enough sick time to take the time, but I will be off most of next week on vacation, so I decided to come in and keep working.

Yesterday was Mark's brothers 21st wedding anniversary and they posted some pictures from the wedding on Facebook. There were two with Mark in them. He looked so young and so handsome...and so happy. But I started to cry when I saw them. I don't know why. I didn't know him then, but I just felt such a pain looking at the pictures. Maybe because I won't get a chance to have a 21st anniversary with him. Maybe because I wished I could share these pictures with him and have him talk about the wedding. I looked at his hands in the pictures and wanted so much to be able to hold it one more time. Looking at my wedding pictures did not upset me as much as looking at those pictures.

Thank you to everyone. QMary, I am so sorry things happened as they did. There are a few people here at work who have had heart attacks recently, one person is still in a medically induced coma. As much as I would give anything to have Mark with me, I would not want him to be in such a state. I don't have a lot of people to talk to about everything. I know at work they are sympathetic, but sometimes I fear they tire of my "drama". I know everyone here at work care for me and I appreciate every having such a nice group of people to be around. I spend time with Mark's mom, and she is a widow, but I think it is hard for her to see me in pain. so many times she will tell me, don't cry. I try to keep my focus when I am here at work and accomplish all the tings I need to do. I work in accounting office and some work is so detail-oriented, it helps me to forget my grieving for a while. But Mark was also a big part of my work day, I miss him. I have a friend who comes to spend time with me on the weekend, to just get me out of the house for a while. She was my maid of honor, and in her way I am sure she grieves for Mark. I don't have family close by. I have a cousin who will be coming to visit in April; perhaps then I can seek comfort and have someone hold me to cry. Mark used to be that person for me. When our doggie, Annie needed to be put to sleep and I made the decision, Mark held me to keep me from collapsing. I think I still hold so much inside. When I am alone, I let the tears come.

Last night I went to bed at 7:30 to escape. I was outside watering the bed of pansies that Mark had planted for me, and an ambulance drove by with its lights flashing. I just kept looking at it and my heart sank. Today is 12 weeks that he died and Thursdays are not my favorite day. I feel more irritated and unbalanced. When I walked inside the building I work at and looked at the display in the lobby, the time changed to 7:11, Mark's time of death. I know I am probably just extra sensitive to things, but it just seems everything on this day just hits me.

Is it the fog that makes me feel so "muffled". It is the only word I can think of. Is it the reason for my inability to make decisions? I sometimes just want to sit and escape.

Shalady, Keeping a journal is kind of like writing yourself a letter. Maryann

I made an appointment to meet with a grief counselor March 5. I wanted to do it on a day off, but she is out next week. So I scheduled it for the end of the day; figuring I might be emotionally ok to return to work mid-day. She has been kind and told me to email her if I need to and to continue keeping a journal. I will try it and see if it is something that I feel comfortable with. I find some days at the end of the work day I feel exhausted because I have been trying to control my emotions. As I have said to friends at work, I am not a "woe is me person", but this makes me feel that way. I have a lot of people at work who care for me; almost all of them attended Mark's service. He was a part of our work family and everyone here was shocked when they got the news of his passing. He had just been here the day before, talking to the folks at the front desk and always cracking a joke. The day before he died, we had a staff luncheon. I was on the committee and it is one of my joys to plan events and use my creativity to make it special. Well, he even helped. He was here the night before helping to hang banners and seeing the rehearsal for the presentation. So for everyone to get the message that Thursday that he was gone, everyone was in shock. I don't like making people sad, so I try not to when I am work. I have begun to allow myself to accept assistance when it is offered and not feel like a burden. One day at a time is all I ask.

I am also going to have a quilt made of Mark's t-shirts and Hawaiian shirts. He loved those. I had him cremated in the shirt he wore when we met. I have started going through the dresser that has his every day clothing in it and am putting together a collection of t-shirts. His cousin makes quilts and she is going to have me be a part of the construction so it will have extra meaning. He had made himself two Hawaiian shirts (he liked to try new things to see if he could do it). He had completed a Christmas one made out of fabric with cardinals on it (my personal totem is the cardinal...it reminds me of my mom who LOVED them). He did not get to wear it, but I gave it to his brother and he honored us by wearing it all through the holiday. Touching some of his items still brings so many tears, especially when I opened the bag holding the suit he wore when we got married.

This morning I went out and sat in the car (I don't drive yet...but like to sit where Mark sat. His jacket that he wore sits in the passenger seat) and put in one of Mark's Jimmy Buffett cds and cried. Mornings are very hard. He used to drive me to work and before I got out of the car, he would kiss me multiple times and then tell me he loved me. He was not the type to wait for me to say it first. I miss that in the morning time. One of the last gifts that Mark left for me was a tree. I had no idea he had ordered it. After he died, I was going through his emails, looking for things I might need to take care of and found an email from an orchard company. I emailed them to find out what it was all about, explaining that Mark had passed and I was hoping they could tell me what this was. This order had taken place back in October, over two months before he passed. Well, it turned out that he ordered a tree, the same tree that had grown in the front yard of his parents house, a tree he had spent many youthful years climbing. He was heartbroken when it had to be cut down. We had discussed putting a tree in our front yard; he knew a lot about trees and plants since he had worked with a lawn company as one of his many jobs. So to find out that there was a tree coming took me by surprise. One of his brothers came by after his service and put it in the ground and now I am watching over it, hoping spring will bring a rebirth. He was very thoughtful in that way. I know he would have done anything for me.

Mark said the same thing...one evening we sat in our backyard and he said it was his own piece of Heaven...no worries there. When I sit on the swing I keep watching for him to come from the garage and sit next to me. He would engage the dogs in play and then come back in and start dinner. Mark's mom arranges with his brothers to see what things can be done. He always had multiple projects going at once. I have been sharing Mark's possessions with various siblings...so they have something to remind them of him. I am going to help a relative make a quilt from his many t-shirts. We did not have children, but he has a God son and many nieces and nephews. I will honor him in any way possible.

Thank you both for your wise words, and a hand to hold. I find it difficult putting sentences together; being asked to make too many decisions is overwhelming. I know everyone wants me to do what I want, but most times I don't really know what I want. What I truly want is to have my husband back; I miss him so very much sometimes it takes my breath away. I find I go to bed early because I don't like the alone time in the evening. I have three dogs and they fill up the house with activity, but they can't converse with me. We would have celebrated our 6th anniversary on Valentine's Day. I never thought on the day we joined our lives, that it would be for less than 6 years. Mark and I met online. One lonely Sunday afternoon we both ended up in a chatroom on Yahoo. We ended up messaging each other and chatting for over 3 hours. I knew right away he was so different than any other guys I had met. He was very polite, a true gentleman. He came from a large family (he is one of 10 children). He was so very grounded; but he also suffered from alcoholism. I am not sure what he was like before we met, but all his siblings thanked me many times for saving his life. He did still drink, but he did not fall deep into the sadness. I have many cards and letters that Mark wrote me telling me how I had changed his life. He was easy to love. He was so genuine, not a pretentious bone in his body. He was a talented woodworker and loved creating items for family and friends. My very first Christmas gift was a beautiful desk made out of oak. He was a mechanic by trade, but he was a jack of all trades. And smart; so very smart. He loved to read and he was always wanting to learn new things. He taught me and I taught him. Our love just kept getting deeper each and every day. We were married about a year and half when I decided it was time for us to look for a house. I knew he would flourish with a place of his own. He LOVED being married, being a husband. And he was good at it. He gave me comfort and security and all the love I could handle. He was my everything, and I believe I was his. I am thankful that it is me who has survived, because I am afraid of what might have happened to him if it were reversed. He always told me that if I were to go before him, he wouldn't be able to stay in this house...because I made it a home and I was in everything and everywhere. Well, he was also in everything and everywhere. Some days I just wander through the house picking up things and moving them around. I re-arranged the furniture in the living room, because I could still see him laying there on the floor being worked on by multiple paramedics. That morning was a nightmare; I kicked in to autopilot. Having to give my husband chest compressions was a nightmare. I kept calling his name. When we arrived at the emergency room, I believe he was already dead. I have watched many a medical show, and the doctor comes into the waiting room and gives your the good news...they got everything under control and he was going to be fine. But that was not the case. I had a friend there with me and I fell into her arms weeping. I remember the details and who was there, but the feeling I had was that of slow motion. Then decisions had to be made and a plan had to be put into action. I was completely supported by friends and Mark's family. I remember seeing the faces of his family members as they arrived. Three of his brothers were out of town and did not get to say goodbye before the medical examiner took his body away. People kept asking me what could they do for me. My only answer was to bring Mark back. He was my everything and I feel lost. I can function and there are moments I move ahead and complete projects around the house. But when I feel pleased, he isn't here to share in it. I moved to Houston 13 years ago this coming March and made it on my own. Found a good job, a place to live and felt secure in my life...I just longed for someone to share it with. Mark also felt the emptiness in his life...he wanted someone to say goodnight to, someone to worry for him, to care for him, to love him. He told me many times that he had resigned himself to being alone. But then he met me and there was a glimmer of hope. I loved him with everything in me; and he did the same. He wasn't perfect; neither am I. But our imperfections merged, our lives fit like a beautiful jigsaw puzzle. I feel cheated for the years we will never have. He wanted to show me so much, to share so much more. And now he is gone, and I feel hurt. Mark was my cowboy. When I think of him, the tears fill my eyes. I want so much to be able to run my fingers through his hair (he loved that). He loved feeling loved...and we made sure we told each other that every single day. We left no doubt about that. I don't even want to think beyond tomorrow. I will continue to work through each day and night. I appreciate having this forum to help. Thanks, Maryann

I'm not sure how forums work, but I have been reading so many of the posts and find so many are in the same place as me. I lost my husband, Mark on December 4. He died of a heart attack; was nothing I had ever thought would happen. Mark had some issues, but he was only 53 and I never thought I would lose him so young. We only found each other in 2006, and were married 02/14/2009. I know he is gone; I saw his body at the emergency room; his ashes sit in my entry way (where I sat them when I returned from his service). We never talked about what we wanted or how we would handle these decisions. I still felt like a newlywed with him. I know the first few weeks, I was just numb. But it will be 11 weeks this Thursday, and I still find myself just roaming through the house. I am able to function at work, but also find it difficult at times. He was such a big part of my day...he would call every afternoon when he went home for lunch to take care of our dogs. We were married in the auditorium of the building I work at (I haven't walked in there yet). The morning of his heart attack, I found him in the bathroom standing at the sink. I asked him what was wrong, and he said something felt different, he was feeling a different kind of pain. I told him to go and sit in the recliner and relax and maybe it would ease up. He had been having some gastro problems (in fact had just been in the hospital because he got dehydrated), so I thought if he sat and relaxed he would feel better. Well, when I came to see him, he looked more distressed and I asked him if I needed to call an ambulance and he said "Yes". Well, before they could get there, he became unresponsive and the 911 operator told me I need to give him chest compressions to keep a pulse until they got there. I had no chance to say goodbye...I kept calling his name as I was trying to do as the operator instructed me. When he finally went in the ambulance, I was following behind with a friend, trying to call family members and let them know what was going on. The ambulance stopped in the street and I found out later that is what they do when someone goes into cardiac arrest. I truly believe he was dead when he arrived at the hospital, because it wasn't long that the doctor came out and said they had to pronounce him. Ever since, I just have this feeling of being in a fog. I have found ways to function and get through my day, but if I am pressed to do something beyond those things, I get flustered and want to escape. We have three dogs and right now they are my lifeline. If I did not have them in the house, I am not sure how I would be doing. So I guess my question is how long and why this feeling goes on? I have always been a person who likes to have some control in my life; this is so far from that. Thanks for listening, Maryann

I am new to this site, but so glad I found it. I lost my husband, Mark on December 4, 2014, two days after his 53rd birthday. We were married on Valentine's Day 2009. He died from a massive heart attack. I had to give him chest compressions to keep a pulse until the paramedics arrived. It will be 11 weeks this Thursday (I hate Thursdays). It is hard to explain how I feel from day to day. I have a tremendous amount of support where I work; they are like my family. I still tend to just wander through the house. By the end of the day, I am exhausted and go to bed early (partly because I am so tired and partly because I miss Mark so very much). We didn't have a social life, so it was mostly him and I. We have three dogs who are my complete salvation. I wouldn't make it if it wasn't for them. I have found a lot of comfort and information by reading some books on grief. Sometimes I feel bad that I feel bad, like I am feeling so much self-pity. I just miss him so much at times it hurts like I can't explain. I wish sometimes it was a physical hurt and I could take a pill and make it go away.