AnnetteAZ

Hello, I almost never post but I read everyone's. It's been 1,156 days - that's 3 years and 3 months. I'm in the same place as Suzanne. As time has passed things have gotten harder, not easier. My life falls further apart every month. I thought once I could anything...now I know better. I no longer cry for hours every day - it's more of a cold dead numbness. I do appreciate those who do have the ability to so eloquently express how much hurt I have. At least I know I'm not the only one. It is true that time makes a difference. I no longer have the physical symptons and I have gained back 10 of the 30 pounds that I lost. Every day I pray for him to come back and get me.

Jan, I'm so sorry for you and for us all. This, I believe, is the norm, not the exception. And it's almost as hard as the loss of our mates. The truth is we are not the same people that they knew before and neither they nor we know how to relate anymore. It's like he was the glue that held everything together and now that he's gone, so are all the bonds. It's also true that we are expected to "move on" and it makes everyone crazy when you're just not ready. I wish that I could make it better for you (and all the rest of us)but all I can offer is my deepest sympathy...and I know that is just not enough. Hoping you find peace.

I'm so very sorry for the pain you are going through. After I lost my man I also had to get a job. It probably saved my life. I have no children, few friends and absolutely nothing left to live for. I don't know how I got anything done because it seemed like all I ever did was sit at my desk and cry. But I was fortunate enough that I had a private office where I could close my door. I worked 14 plus hours 5 days a week and even went in on weekends because I just didn't know what else to do with myself. On those lonely weekend nights I reminded myself of my obligation to completing the project I was hired to do so that I would put off any drastic measures I might be contemplating. I don't really like the fact that I have to work or where I have to work but it is still the only thing that gets me through the week. It has provided me with human contact which I might not otherwise have. And of course the income. I hope you are fortunate enough to get something that you enjoy...or at least don't hate. Keeping occupied was what helped me get through the worst parts. Wishing you strength peace and comfort.

Interestingly, new studies just released indicate that attitude makes no difference in the survival rates of cancer sufferers. The "I can beat this with a positive attitude" patients died at the same rate as those who didn't even want to try. And I myself have visualized (with great fervor) the growth of something deadly in me alot the last 17 months...and to my extreme annoyance find myself in amazingly good health. We want to believe that we have more control over all the unseen things that go on in our body, but we are a far more complicated organism than that. Some things happen in our bodies that have more to do with chemical reactions that we simply cannot control with thought. Those reactions take place without involving the brain at all. Having a good positive attitude helps those around you (who wants to be around someone who just won't try to be happy), so I suppose that's why we should at least make some small effort. The hard part is getting to the place where we have the strength to make that small effort. I wish I could say I was there but I'm still not. And it does drive people away.

Corinne, What are you doing for your grief-work? No one is very clear on that except to take care of yourself and to write in a journal. I have been trying very hard to eat right, exercise regularly and bath every day, you know it's not always easy. This is not work, it's something that I've always striven to do. And it doesn't seem to be getting me anywhere. Writing in a journal turned out to be a very bad thing for me. It was all so negative - even when I started out feeling not that bad, by the time I wrote a paragraph or two I would be crying hysterically. It always left me feeling worse. I still try to document events a couple of times a month but I just can't keep working myself up into another useless crying jag. What is this grief work? How does it make the hurt and loneliness and fear go away?

Wow this is a really difficult one. I would like to offer another point of view. My man always said that he wanted to go out with a bang and didn't want to linger through all that aged suffering that we were witness to. But as his health declined (physically as well as mentally), he didn't want to die any sooner than he had to. His children and I had endless debates about having him declared incompetent but it came down to not being able to take away his dignity. He was fortunate in that his body took him before his mind was completely gone. But I guarantee that he would have fought tooth and nail to live another minute if there was a way...even if he was no longer the man who declared he would never want to live like that. The person who was taking over his body certainly wanted to live. That being said, I hope that someone will be able to make the decision for me when my quality of life is not what I want today. And I don't envy you the decisions that you will have to make. I'm certainly not offering any advice or criticism, just another view. These decisions have far too many variables and sometimes the consequences are lose/lose propositions.

Oh Maylissa I feel your pain. I'm also childfree. Every year after my mother in law died, my man would buy me the most extravagant Mother's Day gifts. I'm so sorry now that I never properly acknowledged the pain he must have felt every year when he only had me to celebrate that precious holiday with and not his own mother. Now he's gone too. So for the last two Mother's Days I felt pretty much abandoned and ignored too. And I'm really angry and hurt and I'm mad for you too. I didn't get the adorable little doggy card that he sometimes drew a little pawprint on (or let the dog slobber all over). I didn't get any extravagant surprises. I thoughtlessly went to my favorite Chinese restaurant Sunday afternoon and found it so crowded that there was no way I could stay (far too much joy that I couldn't share). And what's worse is that I'm not really a mom and our little dogson is gone and my man is gone and everything in my life that I loved so much is gone...and no one really cares. So I want you to know that I really understand and I care because your pain is mine. I'm going to sit in my room and cry for all our pain and loneliness and the unfairness of our plight and our reaction to it. And I'm going to say bad things about all the people that I feel so let down by (and all the people who have let you down will get some really bad words). Happy Mother's Day, your girl still loves you. (And I'm sure your man does too, he just doesn't get it - they can be so amazingly clueless it's fortunate they have other fine qualities).

I "suffer" from a lack of faith also. And when I first started into this painful process, I felt this is where my whole belief system failed me. Those who have faith at least know that their loved one is in a better place and they will all be reunited someday. I didn't have that. But after faithfully following everyone's story here for the past year, I see that it really doesn't matter. Whether or not you believe they are "alive, pain-free and at peace", or just no longer part of our physical world, we are all suffering the same. Those with a fervent religious belief also feel let down by their faith. And they don't seem to be any more comforted during their darkest moments than am I. As to how you get through this without all that belief...the same way the believers do. One day at a time. You cry and you rage and you wish (pray) fervently for something that you know you will never have again. And you've made it through one more day. Painfully you brace yourself for tomorrow. Then suddenly you've lived through the holidays, his birthday, your birthday, and then the anniversary. And just like all those believers, you are still wounded and hurting so much you wonder how you did it. But you can and you will. And just like all those believers, you are still so wounded you can hardly stand up sometimes. But just like them, most of us have an inner strength that never gets acknowledged. That's my "single set of footprints in the sand". You have yours and like all those believers you can't seem to get in touch with it at this awful time. Only much later will you look back and see what you've accomplished, just as the believers will look back someday and see the footprints of God as they were carried through this night. Our consolation is that we did it ourselves. We can be strong. As to the fear of your own death, even those who believe don’t have the guarantee that their God will allow them enough time to do all those things either. And since the afterlife is kind of vague about the activities that go on, they only have earthly time to do earthly activities too. Just start doing it all now. Few of us ever get the chance to do everything in life they want. I feel extraordinarily lucky because I not only have done almost everything I ever dreamed of doing but far more. My life has been like a miracle and I am more than satisfied with what I did with it. I am totally unafraid of death. I hope it won’t be painful or protracted but I can handle that too…nothing can be harder than this. I wish you so much peace but having gone through this I know this offering means so little in the face of your grief. Just keep checking back, watch our progress and let us experience yours. We all want to get better and we want you to get better too.

I really don't think that our friends who seem to have abandoned us are bad people or even bad friends. They are simply clueless. Until one has suffered the loss of one's mate (or whoever is central to our existence), it is truly impossible to even begin to understand. As Steven said, trying to imagine what it will be like is so useless because there really is nothing to prepare you. So while those friends may try very hard to understand, they just can't. I was one of those that cried for my friends' losses but a few months later my life was completely back to normal and basically unchanged. I thought I had compassion for their pain...I was so wrong. I never, ever realized the depth of real sadness until it was me. I never knew how my beautiful life could change into something I could hate so much. I was pretty certain that I would outlive my man but felt I was a strong capable woman perfectly able to live a good life without him. Then I lost him and I find that most of my assumptions about my future were wrong, wrong, wrong. And to give a little more credit to those who don't seem to be where we want them, I know that I am not at all fun to be around any more. For the longest time I didn't even want to try. I still cannot give anybody the happy news they all want to hear: that I'm living a wonderful new single life, that I love my new job, that I cherish all the wonderful memories that we made more than I dread the future of only memories. I'm just really sad and it permeates and emanates from my entire body. That's why friends want us to move on. They can't feel our pain or understand it's hold on us. They just don't get it and they probably shouldn't have to. After all, I certainly wouldn't want everybody to suffer this much for this long. And how can you understand something so profound that you have never experienced? So we come here and meet others who are feeling our pain. More than likely our old friends will be just that, old friends. With some we may renew a good relationship, but sadly most will move on with their old normal lives which won't include us anymore, only the memories of how much fun we had together when we were all happy couples. By the way, these are only words, I too am very very angry. There's just nothing that can be done but to forgive and try to understand the loss is mine to bear alone. This my attempt at trying. Annette

Ann, I'm so very sorry for this horrible loss. I lost my man of 28 years one year and one day ago. I had some awful, gruesome dreams in the beginning. I was relieved when they finally quit. But I have never had a dream since of him, neither at peace, not giving me any comfort or a sign...nothing. I can't tell you how sad this makes me and I want to make more of it than it probably is. It can't possibly mean what I think it does in my most dispairing moments. Maybe it's more important for us to remember them in our minds and hearts, where we know they are. I hope you have beautiful dreams soon. But if you don't, she still loves you.

Shelley, It is true that sometimes the glue that holds it all together is really just one person. It sounds to me like your family lost that. It is very common and so is probably natural. It's not just family but whole social structures. I was a very happy and content accessory to my man's amazing life. Now he's gone and so is everything and everybody. I wasn't the one who made that life and I don't know how he did it. I want to blame alot of people but the truth is that it's really just me. I'm the one who can't make my own new life...those who have gone on with theirs really can't be expected to make one for me too. I'm trying to be grateful for the wonderful time that he gave me but honestly I'm just too overwhelmed by the loss of all that was familiar and comforting. I know you must be too. I have been trying to expect the very least out of life so that any small thing will seem like a special gift. It gets easier with practice. And remember too that with death of the family patriarch/matriarch, the entire dynamics of family relationships changes. It's pretty unlikely that it will ever be the same. That's another part of our loss that most of us never expected. Maybe some families cope just fine, but I suspect that more struggle than we realize. You have all my sympathy for your plight.

I'm so sorry for your loss. I wonder how anybody gets through those first few months. We all truly are so sad for you. I am at 325 days, almost a year and the pain is still so intense I can hardly breathe sometimes. Most of the advice that I got was also on the lines of take your time, express yourself, be good to yourself, blah, blah. The advice that really helped me was protein drinks (because I wasn't able to eat), a sonic toothbrush (sounds crazy, but the simple task of even brushing my teeth was sometimes difficult in the beginning), and a AAA auto emergency policy ( you might not need this so much). I still have most of his things right where they were. The first month I thought it was healthy to start getting rid of things so I emptied out his part of the bathroom medicine chest. Then every morning I had to look at that huge empty space and it was too hard to even open it after awhile (which certainly didn't help with the toothbrushing/hygiene issue). Now once every few weeks I might haul a very small amount of stuff down to the local Salvation Army. And I immediately fill the empty spaces. I read posts here often and know that most of what I'm going through is normal (like that helps lessen the pain). Everybody's pain is so unique yet it's all so similar. I think the biggest benefit here is releasing some of the guilt for my grief and for my reactions to it. I'm not sure the pain softens (at least not for the first 325 days) but most of us are learning to live with it. I'm doing much better, really.

I keep reading about the hard work of grieving and how it can't be avoided to successfully get through the process. What exactly is this work I'm supposed to be doing. I'm not getting successfully through anything and I don't know what this "grief work" is. I'm supposed to learn to appreciate what I have now. I have always appreciated that. I'm supposed to value the moment...I was able to do that before my loss. All these things that I'm suppose to learn to make me a better person for having suffered this loss are things that I believed in before. All those grief counselors act as though we were all unappreciative, ungrateful, and ignorant of our incredible fortune until we became lucky enough to have our eyes opened with pain almost too great to live with. I already knew how to appreciate a beautiful moment for what it was. Now I don't have beautiful moments. Is the hard work just the suffering? because that takes no effort or work whatsoever, it's just hard.

I worry about my future more than my mortality. I'm not young, I have no children and my family has been separated from each other for over 40 years. I know I will eventually be in a nursing home and will have no one to comfort me at the end. I just hope I have the strength to endure it and not get mean and ugly. I know having children is no guarantee that they'll be there for you in the end but it's alot bigger odds. I'm so scared.

Food was a very helpful and thoughtful gesture. As was help with the small chores around the house (anyone can dust and vacuum or do a couple loads of laundry). Most importantly, these gestures are even more helpful and appreciated weeks and months from now. With all those boys to care for he'll probably need help he never imagined. You are a wonderfully kind friend to have in such awful circumstances. It was actually 3 months after my loss that I started really feeling the effects of not having my mate there to do all those things I never even thought about. That's when I wish all those well-meaning people had offered. AnnetteAZ