mittam99

That balancing act is hard Dr. Lenera, no doubt. I started working on re-staining my fairly large second story deck with a large flight of steps. I'm wondering if I bit off more than I can chew. I have no problem with hard work but this task is not only daunting it's physically draining. Oh my aching back! And when I've come in the house for a break, Tammy's not here giving me that sense of comfort and reassurance. I just have to take it slow and steady and try not to get too frustrated. I wish I could have been able to afford a pro to do this because painting is not my forte. I definitely do push myself but I also know when I need to stop and call it quits for the day. I know Tammy would be proud of me and it's a small comfort but it's obviously not like she is actually here. And that's where it's easy to just give up and say "why do I bother?". I think the reason I've been pushing myself so hard is that I really don't have much of a life. It's a life without the love I crave from my dear Tammy. It's an empty life. A bit of a dismal one. Pushing myself and fixing up my house is my way of taking pride in something. Feeling some sense of purpose or usefulness. I mean, even if it only gives me a short lived burst of accomplishment, I'll take it. Maybe it means my life isn't complete and utter nothingness. I'm not sure. I just know if I didn't push, I'd lay around and wallow in my grief and I know, at least for me, that isn't good or healthy. It's just so easy to be stuck in that "quicksand-ish" feeling of being consumed by grief. It's a place where the pain of grief rules your life 24/7. I've been in that hole... that feeling of being in a pit so deep you'll never get out. For me, at this time in my journey, that's simply a place I don't want to live in. A place I'm pretty sure Tammy wouldn't want me living in, either.

Marita, I believe they go to Dunkin Donuts for the Good Cop 20% discount. I also wanted to say that your comments (that I've touched you in a positive way) have often made my day. Thank you for that. I'm so sorry we're all living this grief existence. Here's hoping life sends you some needed comfort. Thank you Karen. Those words of wisdom resonate with me. Very insightful and helpful.

I think some folks here are misinterpreting both who I am and what I was trying to convey. I simply felt like this topic and the concept of "Good Cop, Bad Cop" was something interesting and thought provoking. Something that I hadn't seen discussed here in that way. It's not about me worrying about topic counts or likes or anything of the sort. I was just hoping it was a topic that would strike a chord and get people thinking and talking. Sometimes I guess you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.

George, my PM function being off has nothing to do with my not wanting to respond to members who contact me privately. It's a story for a different day, I guess you could say. If you need to contact me, my email address is: mittam99@yahoo.com

What I was trying to convey is this. I'm a hugely empathetic person. For example when I see your 24/7 struggles, I want to reach out and hug you to let you know I care. Since I can't do that I try to post ideas that have helped me and MAY work for you. I'd never assume it's my way or the highway. I genuinely want to try to help.

Marty, you totally are misunderstanding me. It's not praise I seek. I get plenty of praise elsewhere in my life, I don't worry about getting it here. I post with the intention of having an interaction. I welcome other points of view. It's not me preaching or telling others how to live, just posting about my beliefs. Beliefs that have worked for me and if others are in pain and what they're doing isn't working, why not try something different? Grief is in part a learning experience and trial and error is part of that. Lively Interaction makes for a good discussion group, Marty.

Kay, thanks for the sentiment. Unfortunately, my message of hope and my words of encouragement are falling on deaf ears for the most part here. That's one of the main reasons for my lack of activity at the forum. I put a lot of thought into my posts and try to word them in a way that offers grievers a sense that things can and will be better. I know all of us here are hurting and this is pain that will reside in our hearts for the rest of our lives. But I also know and all of you know that life is short. We can choose to live it how we want. My choice is to live a life with Tammy in my heart serving as motivation. She wouldn't want me in constant pain and anguish. She'd revel in my victories and accomplishments. If others here can't find motivation, my heart reaches out to you. It truly does. I'm so sorry you can't find any light in the darkness of grief. We have to try to find some way to create a life that has a measure of hope in it. Without hope, life will be a very bleak place. We all deserve some sense of happiness in our lives.

You hit the nail on the head. It really is a balancing act. If we're only living this new life yearning for our past and bemoaning what little we have, it's going to be torture. Not that we shouldn't long for what we had or hope against hope that this is a some sort of nightmare we will wake up from. We all want our old lives back. On the other hand, it's not healthy to be relentlessly pushing ourselves 24/7. We need those quiet moments to ponder or cry or just lay in bed staring at the ceiling. We're the one left behind, the survivor... it's anything but easy. But, somehow, some way, we will find a meaning in it all, little by little. .

I often tell people here to be gentle with themselves. After all, this life of grief, alone, is so very hard and painful. We can't spend our time beating ourselves up for the wouldas and couldas that play on our mind. We shouldn't be hard on ourselves when we lack motivation or feel like we're not really living a full life. Truly, there are days that just getting out of bed is an accomplishment. That's the "good cop" point of view. There are other times I've started to play the "bad cop". My inner voice filled with tough love. It's the voice that says I need to get off my ass and push. The voice that tells me that laying around feeling sorry for myself isn't very productive. In recent times, I've done quite a bit of pushing. Whether it's landscaping around the house or painting the deck or building a shed, I'm trying. Sure the sense of accomplishment in my work is fleeting, but it is giving me some small sense of purpose. Is it anything close to the life I had with Tammy? Of course not. Her love made my life better in every way. She was the best part of my life and the best part of me. Tammy's no longer here physically but I know she would be proud of me and that in itself is motivating and comforting. Mitch

Gwen, with all the emotional issues swirling around our grief laden minds, I just don't think that's something you need to worry about. I can understand the worry about meaning something to people while you're alive, but once your gone? It just seems like you're putting added emotional stress that you don't really need. Our new life alone basically sucks, we all know that. It's not what we signed up for. But, it's the only life we have. There's no do-overs, unfortunately. Right now, it's all about you and trying to find some measure of comfort or even a glimpse or two of happiness. That's the goal anyway, isn't it? We don't have our beloved partner with us to ease our pain or to let us know things will be OK. They're not here to lean on or love on. We often feel like an empty shell going through the motions and wondering why we bother. Well, the reason we bother is that no matter how different this new life is, no matter how hard or painful, life is a gift. And there's no doubt that our loved ones would want us to not only survive, but to thrive. For me, it's about taking it a day at a time, doing the best I can. It's about honoring Tammy and keeping her memory alive. It's hard, if not impossible to maintain a positive outlook on the future all the time. We'll always have good days and bad. The tears will always be with us. Yet, there is much good in this life and there is a future for all of us. You just gotta have hope. Mitch

Anna, that feeling isn't a constant for me, either. When it does happen though, it is a very, very peaceful feeling. Tammy always made me feel better and she still influences me in a positive way today.

My heart goes out to you Robin. All of our days are hard but these anniversaries can be brutal. Reliving all those traumatic events as if they happened yesterday. I hope you're able to find some moments of peace today.

I don't know if anyone else here experiences this but I thought I'd share... Often times, I'll be doing something, could be surfing online, working on a project or just thinking about something. And a certain sense of calm, sort of a comforting, peaceful feeling comes over me. The feeling that although I can't see Tammy her essence is somehow experiencing what I am. That she is by my side giving me her love and her affection. Hard to explain really. I just know that my life with Tammy and the love we shared will live within me forever. And that's a very good thing.

No Ana, your former life wasn't a dream. It was very real and very wonderful. And it's the reason you're hurting so much and feel so lost. All of us lost our true zest for life when we lost our soul mate. I totally know what you mean about life lacking any purpose. We're all just trying to find our way. This new life is so different, so difficult and so nearly impossible to find motivation in. Like you, I function and function rather well but at the end of the day I still wonder "where is the meaning in this life"? On the one hand, I'll admit I feel more like myself than I did two years ago, but, this life still is a mystery in many ways. I guess it's all baby steps. We all are still learning to live and adapt to a world without the person who made our life better. Who loved us like no other. As far as being strong and resilient etc.. you've shown that you certainly are. As far as making it through the day without tears? If you need to cry, CRY. I'm so sorry we all have to live with so much pain.

Another one of those milestone days in my life after Tammy. Today is my 62nd birthday (wow that's a lot of them) and it's hard to believe it's my third one without Tammy. I spent most of my morning doing yard work and laundry... very exciting! It's another day to reflect on my life alone. It's anything but easy. But, there's one thing I have that will always be a source of strength. And that's the fact that I had a wonderful wife and a life with her that I will cherish forever. A love story for the ages. Sure the pain of my loss is a constant yet it's those memories of my life with sweet Tammy that I draw on for comfort and courage in those difficult moments. Tammy will always be my inspiration.

File this one under "call me crazy"... For most of my "driving career", I've driven stick shifts. It just feels like you're more in control and generally they're just more fun to drive. Tammy didn't know how to drive a manual and honestly had no desire to learn. So, we were a two car family. She had her automatic sedan and I had my manual hatchback. Sadly, when Tammy lost her job due to illness, it became tougher and tougher to maintain two cars. And then it 2010, I was in an accident and my car was totaled. We took the money from insurance and traded in her car towards a car with an automatic that we both shared. That was the car I traded in Saturday. And now the "crazy" part. I could have saved money getting a new car with a manual and I know it would have been more fun to drive, but... I had to pay homage to Tammy. I know she would be smiling that the new car has an automatic transmission. I just wish she was here and I could still hold her hand while I drive like I always did.

File this post under the category "life goes on", I guess. A few months before Tammy died, we were thinking about trading in our car for a new one. And for most of the past two years I've been struggling with whether or not to replace the car. Our car was running great and it looked great but sometimes you just need a change. The sticking point for me emotionally was that this was a car Tammy and I shared. Many times, just when I thought I was ready to buy a new car, I backed off because I simply wasn't ready. Well, Saturday I finally did it. I cried quite a bit Friday night but by Saturday afternoon I was driving home in a new car. The new Honda is awesome, no doubt, but my excitement for anything in life is always tempered by the fact that Tammy isn't here to enjoy it with me. Symbolically, there is one part of the new car that was part of the old car... the license plates. The dealer suggested new car = new plates. But, I had to keep the old ones. It's a small thing but it comforts me just a bit knowing they're there. Tammy loved being in the car with me (and vice-versa) and I hope she's still there in the passenger seat enjoying the ride. I love her forever and always.

AB3, First of all, I hope you continue to post here. I know you posted in a moment of extreme anguish. None of us here are truly content with our lives or truly happy. The "happy life ship" sailed when we lost our soul mate. I'm not trying to be flip when I say that, it's just sadly how it is. You say you're not good enough? Well, I'm sure your beloved man would say otherwise. Sure you're struggling, how could you not be? The life you loved and the love of your life was ripped from you in an instant. We're all trying to live in a world where we often feel like we don't belong. A world where we often don't want to even exist. But we're here. And even though I don't know the reason, there must be a reason, right? In some ways, I feel like I'm here so I can tell the world about my Tammy. To let the world know who she was and how wonderful she was. That's important to me. I never want my memories of her to fade. And I want others to see her courage in the face of constant hardship. She was an amazing woman. And I'm proud she called me husband. It's a one day at a time life. Some days it feels like you want the world to stop so you can get off of it and be done. Other days are more tolerable. And once in a while you may even feel an inkling of goodness in your life. Those are the moments you need to embrace. Please don't just give up. Don't walk away. Live you life with your man's love in your heart propelling you forward. Is it the life you wanted? I know it isn't. But, it's the only life we have and life is a gift (though at times I know it doesn't feel like that). We're all here for you. Hugs, Mitch

What is life if it's a life that feels meaningless? A life that feels like you have absolutely nothing to look forward to? Happiness that only exists in the past. Happiness that's tied to the person you loved more than anything but that person no longer exists in your everyday world. It's a world of endless drudgery and sameness. We're living but in reality are we the walking dead? We all try our best. We all hope that, someday, the feeling of hopelessness will subside and be replaced with some true hope that things will indeed get better. I do function better than I did two years ago. It's a matter of sort of "getting used to" the rhythm of grief. We get used to the grief waves that sometimes knock us on our ass. The lamenting, the pain, the angst. The longing for the past. We're "living" but it's not much of a life. We adapt to an extent. But, it's impossible to overcome the overwhelming feeling that the best part of our life is behind us and our future looks rather dismal. I don't mean to sound negative here especially to those newly grieving. This is just a very difficult process. We lose the person that made our world special and in an instant we're transformed into an emotional wreck. Early on we question if it's even worth trying to go on. Yet, we do try. We do attempt to make this life somehow livable. I'm nearly 26 months without my sweet Tammy and yet virtually every thought in my head somehow still relates to her. She was my everything. My one and only. She made me feel like I mattered. Made me feel like I was something special. I miss her smile, her laugh, her soft skin, her hugs and kisses... Why wasn't she ever blessed with good health? Why did she have to endure so much physical pain and life and death medical trauma? Why did she have to die so incredibly young? In 2015 people aren't supposed to die at 45 years old. It's such a hard life without her. But somehow, some way, I still try to find the positive in things. Try to laugh and make others smile. I don't know what this life ahead will bring, but you can be assured Tammy will always reside in my heart and will always be the best part of me.

I simply don't know how to find meaning in this new life. I do things, sure, but... it all leaves me feeling so empty. How do we find a true sense of satisfaction or real purpose? I've been accomplishing quite a bit around the house and yet there's no gleam in my eye or feeling of pride. Once a project is done, I simply try to move on to the next item on my to-do list. Nothing gives me any real happiness or if I feel something resembling happiness, the feeling is fleeting. It seems real happiness for me was tied in with having Tammy by my side. Without her, everything is just going through the motions. To go from having the perfect person in your life and a life filled with love to a world devoid of love and filled with loneliness sometimes feels like "serving time". It's me and four walls in that prison of overwhelming, life changing grief. And yet, every day, I get up and try. Try to live my life to the best of my ability. Try to see the bright side of things and to accomplish some goals. So in that sense, I'm a strong person I guess. Some will say I deserve a pat on the back to even be functioning at the level I am. But, it's little consolation. There's only one thing I want and that's to be able to turn back time and have my Tammy back. It's so hard to get past the meaninglessness of this new life.

Thanks for the kind words Darrel. I waited my whole life for Tammy. When she came into my life, I think I finally began to live. I had always been someone who didn't let people get too close. Yet with Tammy, opening up to her, heart and soul, was easy. Being intimate with her felt right from day one. She saw all the good in me and made me feel like I was special. It's no exaggeration to say that we were made for each other. Two peas in a pod. When I lost her on that etched in my brain, traumatic Friday, our love story didn't end. I will love Tammy til the end of time and I know her unending love for me is what keeps me going. Marita, Thank you for that. I don't have much in my life that fills me with joy but hearing that I've helped some here who are in such terrible pain does my heart good. All us grievers are in this together. The "outside world" doesn't understand. It's not that they don't care, it's more a matter of not being able to comprehend the enormity of our loss and how it affects our every moment on earth. ------------------------ I know how hard it is to live this life alone. How dreadful it is to even think of the future. The pain, the despair, the longing for our old life and the love we shared. The feeling that you have nothing positive in this life. And yet, we have to try to find a way. We have to live on to let our beloved live on. Often, I find myself reacting to something the way that Tammy would. That always surprises me and puts a bit of a smile on my face. I often think "what would Tammy do in a given situation?". No she's not here physically, but she's with me emotionally 24/7. We're not the same person we were before we shared a life with our soul mate. In so many ways, they do live on, in our heart and through our eyes. Btw, many of us here do care about you Marita. Care very much. Hugs. Mitch

I totally understand Kay, you didn't derail a thing by the way Over the past few weeks I've been trying to accomplish much at my house. It's overwhelming at times. And not having Tammy here is so tough. When I triumph, there's no one to tell me "good job". And when something goes awry, there's no one here to soothe the frustration and disappointment. It's basically just the three of us... I'm sure you're familiar with them... me, myself and I. It's so very lonely and so lacking in love. It's a life that has so little meaning and is pretty much devoid of direction. Sure I accomplish things, but ultimately, there's very little satisfaction in it. Going from the blessing of having the best wife in the whole world to the devastation of losing her will always hurt so bad. Will always make this new life feel so unfulfilling in so many ways. Yet somehow, I'm still standing and still trying to make Tammy proud.

This new life without our beloved is not an easy one. We're living a life we never imagined without that one person that was perfect for us. I lost my dear and perfect for me wife Tammy two years ago, and honestly, the pain, loneliness and emptiness are still there. This isn't a loss you "move on" from. It's a question of learning to cope and just taking life moment to moment. It's a learning process. In time, you'll learn what works for you and what doesn't. Surrounding yourself with people who care (as you are doing) is a good thing. Seeking wisdom from others who are grieving the loss of a soul mate (this forum, for example) is another wise move on your part. This forum's members have helped me get through some moments when I wasn't sure I had the wherewithal to survive without Tammy. I won't sugar coat it though, this is the hardest thing any of us will ever deal with. Just cherish the time you had with your man (I know it wasn't enough time though) and live life with him in your heart. In a way, he can live on inside of you. I'm so sorry for your heartbreaking loss. Mitch

Marty, if this needs to be moved, feel free. I don't know how many of you follow pro football, but I'm a huge fan of the Baltimore Ravens. One of our all-time great players is tight end Todd Heap. He played for the team for 10 years and is in the Ravens Ring of Honor. Yesterday, I saw news that simply staggered me. Todd was in his truck and pulled forward in his driveway. What happened next is a nightmare beyond belief. He accidentally ran over and killed his 3 year old daughter. Reading this, all I could do was put myself in his shoes. To live with something like that is unimaginable. There are no words. He and his wife are a class act. They operate a foundation to help sick and disadvantaged children. What a terrible tragedy.

Just had a major meltdown. Maybe because it's Easter, I'm not 100% sure. I just know that this life without Tammy is virtually impossible to bear. It's not just the loneliness. Or the emptiness. Or the drudgery of one day of sameness followed by another day that feels just as meaningless as the day before. I mean, I could be surrounded by people 24/7, have millions of dollars. but, that wouldn't do a thing for me. The only thing I've ever wanted was Tammy. I was "incomplete" before I met her and she made me whole. Made me feel like each day was worth living. She gave me purpose, gave me love. She made me feel like I belonged... And where I belong is with my Tammy. Without her, I'm hopelessly lost, wandering aimlessly through life and wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do. There are days I feel clueless. I often don't even know what I want to eat. I live this life knowing that the person that made my life worth living is gone. Yes, Tammy's with me for always in my heart and soul but I need her here to love on and to laugh with and to share our life together again. Recently I've had a ton of things that have stressed me out, financially and emotionally. Had to remove all the trees and shrubs in my front yard which is now 50% grass and 50% dirt. Had to pay for a new roof. Dealt with a rodent infestation. It's just too much, it's overwhelming and alone it's almost too much to handle. Yesterday I took on another project... fixing all the window screens at my house. Figured I could save some money. And for the most part it went well but there was a few moments of cussing when something went wrong. I just needed Tammy there to talk to. To vent to. My tolerance for frustration seems to be at an all time low. When I went to remove the two kitchen window screens and realized a handyman (who did some work for me a while back) had caulked and sealed them to the window sill, I exploded. Why would someone do that? Arrgggg... I am trying. I'm not just laying around 24/7 and crying (although I have my moments, for sure). It's just that I keep thinking "why am I doing all this?". A few days ago, in frustration, I yelled out "OK, I give up"... "you win". The ""you" being God I guess or just this new life in general. This life feels so confusing at times. I feel like that hamster on that spinning wheel. I do accomplish things yet it mostly feels like I've really done nothing. I miss my sweet Tammy and the life we shared. I know the hurt of losing her will never fade. Hopefully, I can find a way to motivate myself and continue to make her proud of me. It is so hard. Mitch