Cookie

Patty: I have had very similar feelings and volatile dreams that don't make me feel good. It's a comfort to know you aren't the only one. It's 16 months for me. You are not feeling sorry for yourself in a negative way. I feel sorry for myself sometimes and have decided I have a right; something horrible happened and it hurts. What I want is for him to make an appearance to me, thinking that will make me feel better knowing he is somewhere out there. It seems like we just don't get what we want sometimes. Anyway, just wanted you to know you are not alone...you won't lose anyone here...we all seem to have a lot of similar feelings and experiences. Take care, Cookie

I, too, have had a battle with pictures. They make me feel love and make me cry....I do have a few up but not a lot. I can always turn them down if I need to. I still miss him so terribly much; when does that let up some I wonder.....

Brad: I find that I think I'm managing this better and then a trigger blind-sides me and I feel hurt, completely lost and confused again. This on and off thing is very hard to deal with. I do that a lot in my head, think about embracing the pain but wonder if I have ever done that yet. I do feel the hurt, but it seems like I resist it quite a lot. I do a lot of hiking and physical things when I start hurting. Of course, everyone says, Oh that is a really good way to deal with it, but I wonder......today I felt such a strong missing of him; I kept saying to myself, "you were here; you were loved by me; I was loved by you; it was real wasn't it....

Thank you all for the feedback. It is helpful to hear from other people about their personal experiences, especially with medicine...fondly Cookie

Karen: I'm there in spirit. Please know people care about you. Do go to a doctor.....fondly, Cookie

Gwen: I know of what you speak. It is so totally lonely, and it's true, you may have people you can talk to but it's not the same as that person you knew so well and knew you so well. That kind of lonely is brutal. I'm constantly trying to fill it. I think if I just do this or go there or spend time with these people it will get better. But, at 15 months it's still so deep and hurtful.

Brad: One of my fondest memories is going to the North Rim with John back about 10 years ago and staying in a cabin close to the lodge. Hardly any people there at all. It was magical and beautiful. We had said we were going to go back and hike down in the canyon but sadly never got the chance.

Tell me anyone....do you take Paxil and how has it treated you? I am back to seeing if there is some way to deal with an ongoing anxiety for 15 months and have almost decided to try Paxil at 5 mg a day. I have never taken anything like this before and have lots of reservations. I have heard from other people and blogs that it can be a terrible medicine, even in small doses, then there are some that say it helps. Trying to just get as much feedback as possible about this and then I may not do it after all; just keep toughing it out. I already exercise, do yoga, am social, all of that and this anxiety just keeps coming and going. Anybody else with this problem; just wondering....thanks, Cookie

Happy birthday Patty...Namaste

I feel the same way. My husband knew how to do everything and we never had to hire anybody. Although I'm not stupid, I am challenged with house repairs, etc. I now have to hire someone to do everything and, yes, I feel lonely and upset about it. I also hate it and don't like the role. Thinking about downsizing in the future because of it. I'm there with you....! Cookie

Gin: So sorry about this. I do know what it is like to have worries with your kids. I've got plenty with a son and daughter. I think the American consulate is the best idea. Do you know who the girlfriend is? Maybe you could call or some of his friends might know what happened. Will be thinking about you....hugs Cookie

I also get that punch in my heart seeing other couples. I am also hoping that some day that will fade. It doesn't feel good being an onlooker. You remember so clearly what that used to feel like and want it again so bad. I know people say be grateful for having had it at all, but honestly, I just want it back....Cookie

Brad: I just read some of these posts by others about missing you on here, and I have to say I have too. You have always had such insightful things to say and they were comforting to read. Don't know why you stopped posting, but hoping you decide to come back again. Cookie

Kayc: Thanks for sharing again. Your situation sounds very similar to mine. No one I can ask to watch my dog, as he's hard to care for. I have to assist him up and down steps and lift him into the car, but, yes, I love him so much; he's been such a good, loyal friend for John and I. Thanks for your words....Cookie

rdownes: Read this and could relate. I have had maybe two dreams about my husband in 15 months, sweet dreams with us hugging, but it hurt so much when I woke up that I, too, was thinking maybe I don't want anymore, and I haven't had any for a while. This is hard....Cookie

Know exactly what you mean....Cookie

Thanks for your response Marg. Worry and anxiety seem to be a hallmark of all this. Glad to hear I am not alone in this. It's been 15 months and I was hoping the anxiety would go away. But, if anything happens at all, I'm right back in that pattern of anxiety every morning. Mine starts about 6:30 when I first wake up. Then, it feels like so much work just to level out. I am getting really tired of it, but don't know how to make it go away. My husband died at 4:10 in the morning and I've wondered if it's associated with that. But what do you do about it? Is it just a time thing? Sorry about the health of your children. I certainly hope they are okay. That would really be anxiety producing. I would not call you a sissy. Look at what you are going through. We're all just wounded and trying to get stabilized. Hugs to you...Cookie

Kayc: Thanks so much for sharing. Makes me feel like I have some company. It's another hard loss and going through the caretaker thing is so reminiscent. But, yes, they are worth all the work. I definitely worry about how to cope with this, that is why it's so comforting to have someone share their story and talk about these feelings. Hugs to you....Cookie

Marg: I understand so well when you say you need Billy so much. I feel exactly the same way. I write every morning and tell him I need him, knowing I'm writing to myself but hope against hope that he hears me. Sometimes when I talk to my therapist, I feel so much worse afterwards which makes me realize I do a pretty good job of sucking it all up a lot of the time. I have an old dog, 12 1/2, who is failing and it is taking me back to last year when my husband died. Same feelings. I also wonder if I can handle this second loss of a beloved being. Anyway, take care...we all have so much in common really in this horrible state of being and that is somewhat comforting to know you're not alone and not the only one who has felt these things. Hugs to you....Cookie

Marg: Here is an article I read that might help you....it does me..I see a therapist and he's really just a comforter where no one else can be and kind of like "air under my wings" kind of concept; it helps a little; I know, it's long.... if it isn’t to “cure” grief, what good is therapy? I’m a therapist. I’ve been a therapist for well over ten years, and was in related social and education services for the decade before that. In my work as a clinician, I had to give people diagnoses. That is the way that therapists and other professionals get paid: we give a diagnosis that the insurance companies have decided they will reimburse for care. Diagnosis does another thing, too, and this is how I explained it to clients: a diagnosis is simply short-hand. Choosing a diagnosis, at its root, is a checklist and a process of elimination or inclusion. If I give you a diagnosis, it tells any other people you might be working with that you share at least some of the same challenges that other people with the same diagnosis do. At its best, a diagnosis gives your team relevant information without you having to go through the same questions over and over again. “At its best,” however, is rarely how it’s used or seen. Even before I became widowed, I never was much for pathology: that medical-izing of normal human experience. I gave my clients the least stigmatizing diagnosis I could, while still accurately conveying their struggles. I couldn’t see someone as being deeply flawed just because they were in pain. I refused to treat anyone as though what they were feeling was inherently wrong. After becoming widowed, I found myself way too many times on the receiving end of that medical view, being told that who I was, and how I was, was wrong. As though my intense, deep grief were pathological and corrupt: a sign of an unwell mind. I didn’t just get it from the people around me — the friends, family members, and casual acquaintances. Some of the most corrective and judgmental people were other therapists. Some had even been my colleagues. One I had even looked to as a decent teacher in his field. The overwhelming response from both the pros and the casual observer was that since I was in pain, I was clearly doing it wrong. Seeing a therapist is tricky business — so many (even some good ones) subscribe to that over-arching belief that grief needs to be corrected somehow, that it needs to be pushed through. If you’re on this grief path, no doubt you have heard a zillion and one suggestions about how you can do your grief better. You’ve been encouraged to get out of it fast, to go back to “normal” life. But there is a different way to approach grief. Many, many years ago, in what seems like an entirely different life, I was studying herbal medicine. The subject for one class was herbs for immune disorders. What the instructor taught that day has stuck with me now for over twenty years. She said that many clinicians approach an immune disorder with herbs to stimulate and push the immune system, trying to get it to work harder and faster. That approach is misguided, she said. When you have a condition like this, your immune system is already working as hard as it possibly can. Trying to make it work harder is only going to fail. The herbalist taught that what was needed in this situation were herbs to come in underneath the immune system, herbs to walk up beside it and support it. The most useful medicines are the ones that don’t push, but give the system roots. Nourish it. Help it continue to do what it is trying to do. The system isn’t working wrong, it’s working as hard as it can. Grief has your heart working as hard as it can. When you are in pain, you don’t need to be fixed. You don’t need to be labeled as broken, your feelings shoved into codified lists. You don’t need to be pushed to get better fast. What you need are those things — those people, those places, those words — that come up underneath you and give you roots. You need those things that nourish you, that help you do the work your heart already knows how to do. The work it is already doing. A good therapist is a wonderful thing: they know that there is nothing about you that’s wrong. They know their role is to listen and validate, to come up alongside you and provide support. They bolster your roots; they lend you stability. Good therapy isn’t a cure for what’s wrong. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Patty: Don't feel guilty; you are not alone. I also resent the health of others sometimes; don't really want to take their health away, just don't understand why my seemingly fit and healthy husband got cancer and died when others with his same cancer have survived. It's a hard way to feel but, I think, normal. I am still suffering the loss terribly, almost worse, after 15 months and wonder if there is ever an end to this. I too have my, what I call neutral moments, and so look forward to those. I think we're all on a sharp, steep journey that might take a while....hugs, Cookie

Thanks for the article Marty. It's helpful to hear that when you're surrounded by people trying to tune you out all the time.....

Yes, more love than ever. One thing I do still have a clear picture of in my mind is his eyes. He had these very twinkly blue eyes and right up to the day he died you would almost forget how sick he was by looking at his eyes which reflected a very kind, strong spirit....Cookie

Janka: You seem like such a sweet loving person...Cookie

Janka: Hope you are doing well...love your messages...Cookie