There is so much that I don't know and I'm overwhelmed trying to sort it all out. I have a fear of becoming a bag lady.
There is no one to soothe my fears when I hear sounds outside at night. I do not feel entirely safe in my house anymore. When my son moves out I will be alone and I didn't not think I can cope with my fears.
My brain isn't functioning as well as I need it to. There is no one to remind me to take my meds or eat properly. I get frustrated easily. My patience is being tested too much.
There is no one to talk to about my concerns about my son. No one is here to tell me that we will be ok.
My son is grieving the loss of his Dad and he wants to ignore Fathers' Day. We have coped through my husband's birthday, Valentine's Day, Easter, my son's birthday, 36th Wedding Anniversary, and now Fathers' Day.
My son and I are only children. My mother is a narcissist who believes/claims that I am a very bad person and that I deserve all the bad things that come my way - I have moved from my home town to get away from her cruelty. My father died 13 years ago. My mother's relatives dismissed me many years ago. My father's family is in Scotland. My inlaws blame me for my husband's suicide.
My panic attacks and depression are getting worse.
This has been going on for the last six months. 2016 is not a good year.
My husband came home for lunch in April (six or seven months ago) and shot himself in the head. No warning, no signs, no nothing. I sold the house immediately. Every time I entered that front door, I became hysterical. Suicide is different. I've already learned that. I had a plethora of friends; after all, he was a big deal attorney and I was an author. All those "friends" except for five people have left my life.
I am currently living with a friend. I pay the rent and he makes sure I don't kill myself and that I eat at least once a day. I've lost 30 pounds. I scream in my sleep, and I talk in my sleep and I cry in my sleep. You're blessed to have restful slumbers.
I've tried a myriad of drugs (under the care of both medical doctors and shrinks) and yet they only stave off the inevitable pain.
I can't even write coherently, but I know this much: Suicide is different. It changes everything. Pre-April, I thought we had the good life. Now I am living in hell. I understand about being a bag lady. I often think about disappearing and becoming one of the homeless. I feel like that's where I belong now; living under a bridge with a few of my favorite things.
How do you survive the suicide of your lifelong love?
in General Grief & Loss Topics
Posted
My husband came home for lunch in April (six or seven months ago) and shot himself in the head. No warning, no signs, no nothing. I sold the house immediately. Every time I entered that front door, I became hysterical. Suicide is different. I've already learned that. I had a plethora of friends; after all, he was a big deal attorney and I was an author. All those "friends" except for five people have left my life.
I am currently living with a friend. I pay the rent and he makes sure I don't kill myself and that I eat at least once a day. I've lost 30 pounds. I scream in my sleep, and I talk in my sleep and I cry in my sleep. You're blessed to have restful slumbers.
I've tried a myriad of drugs (under the care of both medical doctors and shrinks) and yet they only stave off the inevitable pain.
I can't even write coherently, but I know this much: Suicide is different. It changes everything. Pre-April, I thought we had the good life. Now I am living in hell. I understand about being a bag lady. I often think about disappearing and becoming one of the homeless. I feel like that's where I belong now; living under a bridge with a few of my favorite things.