bunflo

On 8/25/2021 at 1:37 PM, kayc said:

taking care of my sister who is very disabled, blind in one eye, going there in the other, falls easily, not taking care of herself, and worst of all dementia, stubborn to a tee...well it's a lot.  Trying to get her to hire a caregiver before this totally does me in, it's been months, she still hasn't.  Life.

😮‍💨❤️🫂 I hope this situation changes for you ASAP.

On 12/16/2021 at 5:51 PM, Sheemie said:

My husband passed without a will. The only thing I knew is that he wanted his ashes spread in his childhood home of his fondest memories place.

I feel horrible regret that we did not figure this out for sure because I asked him, what about me, we did not know or expect this so soon so suddenly and I could not accept it.

After his passing I was thinking of burying him where we lived. It was beautiful there and I knew he wanted to stay there despite not being close to family. I was pressured to leave there by family which is another regret to be close to my family in another state. I do not know what to do. I feel trapped now. Upon his passing I got nothing from his family. They either did not know me, or hate me because I did not get along with my mother in law who just wanted control of us and when I wouldn't give it to her it was WWIII. Then all I would get from my father in law was calls every other day about money and stuff. Oh they were so nice to me until they got the money they wanted and now nothing. I am supposed to give my husband's ashes to these people? My husband's favorite person was his father. He saved him from his psychotic mother. My father in law is old I know a shadow of who he once was and I know that is the only person in my husband's family who I care to have a say in this but it's been so hard to talk to him. I've tried and his phone goes to vm always. It's shocking he is not in a home and still on his own. He called me around Thanksgiving to ask if I had a funeral for my husband. I said no and he was like ok bye. He really is not cognizant is what that is. I don't know how to facilitate my father in law. I tried talking to an uncle who was important to my husband and he was saying oh u don't have to come all the way out here to have a funeral at a church he did not belong to. My husband's family seems to be cremate and loved one keeps ashes. I would prefer to bury him in a cemetery and to my knowledge he wanted ashes spread. I don't know what to do. The guilt racks me. I want to have a parade for my husband but it's just me. I am thinking spread ashes where he wanted with my father in law and bury rest I  a cemetery where I can be with him or is that selfish of me

I'm so sorry for all the bother you're having with his family members. I know how that can be. As someone said above, do what's in your heart. Block out all the noise from everyone else and think of what he would tell you to do. If you can't imagine what his direct instruction would be, then imagine what advice he'd give to anyone in your shoes ❤️

On 12/11/2021 at 2:58 PM, lisetta said:

Thank you, his name was Matteo, he was only 47. I only met him 18 months ago but we loved each other more than we'd ever loved anyone else. We said we'd grow old together. He hadn't been very well for a few months and had lost some weight but we had no idea he was going to die. In October he ended up in hospital with pneumonia and blood clots and then they said he had lung cancer. He came home from hospital on the 7th November and I was staying there to care for him. We were trying to take it all in, trying to get him stronger but he just didn't and he had to go back into hospital 10 days later, it was my birthday, I went every day, he only wanted me there as his one visitor allowed. He died 4 days later, we didn't have any time to process it when they said the cancer had spread already and was terminal.  I hadn't met his family, his little girl lives with his ex and he was scared of losing contact if she knew he was in a new relationship, they'd only been separated for 6 months when I met him and I only met his brother for the first when he came to collect his things at the hospital. Matt was bipolar,  he was so beautiful, an artist, a gardener, and was studying for a degree in mechanical engineering so he could provide well for his daughter. He was wild and intelligent and funny and often deeply sad.  He just felt everything deeply and he couldn't deal with it when they told him it was terminal, he was just trying to sort out things with the mother of his daugter, he wasn't able to sleep, it's all so overwhelming.

I'm so sorry. I lost my loved one almost 4 months ago now and it was sudden and traumatic too, though different circumstances. I'm sure it's been incredibly difficult not having known his family well and that you've felt very isolated from your love since he passed. I also experienced similar things to this and my heart goes out to you. It is a horrible place to be, not being seen as someone's closest person and not being treated accordingly. I hope I'm wrong and that you were able to take part in his service, if there was one, or speak with his family and become known to them.

How are you now? x

Oh I've just seen your last post James haha. Don't worry about the ghosting, we all do it throughout our lives. Just tell him what happened and it was a lot for a while after Annette passing too and then swiftly move on to yearbooks. It does sound like you have known each other for a very long time though, so perhaps asking him how he is, if he's experienced any difficulties lately, how he coped after his wife broke her wrist and trying to broach the subject of mental health wouldn't be so bad? x

On 12/10/2021 at 7:37 PM, nashreed said:

It seems I wasn't entirely clear, though your advice and responses are still valid- I have seen my friend Paul twice since moving back here, but I "ghosted" him after my father-in-law's passing (seriously, a fly was distracting me when I was writing yesterday). I wrote him today and we made a tentative plan to meet up after the holidays. It's intimidating, because he has a wife and son and is going to have a ton of family over this year. A life that I envy, and that (I worry) might color my interactions with him. We went to grade school together, and I promised him that I would bring over my yearbooks and we'd reminisce. That's all fine and good, but Annette was such a huge part of my life, and I had no contact with Paul except as a Facebook Friend when we were together. I can't really talk to him and relate to him as "two married guys" and, y'know, I can't really bring her up. It's just sad and he can't relate. 

Enza, we are lucky to have here to share and commiserate with people who understand- especially when in a neverending pandemic. I'm as shy as can be, and I certainly am not going to ever make new friends easily in the real world, especially this current world. 

I'm scared, because friends flake out, lose interest, perceived slights lead to friendships ending out of nowhere. It happened to me as a kid and I have never trusted friends since. I am so very lucky I had Annette as my best friend for so long- she never let me down and was always there for me. Now I'm at the mercy of whims and time constraints and being low on the list of someone's priorities. I don't really have a choice though- it's like stepping into a storm with wind and rain howling into your face, with a hoodie on and you can't see, and you just hope you make it to where you're heading. 

James

Hi James! I'm not sure if someone has maybe already suggested this. I'm getting lost in all the lovely posts and comments tonight. What I would say is that when you first meet, as with many friendships and acquaintances who haven't seen each other in a while, it is natural for things to be a little 'awkward' at first. He'll probably feel that too, to whatever extent. Things will naturally start to come up, conversation will flow and when the inevitable subject of family arises, you could simply say, "I know you heard/I don't know if you heard, but my Annette passed away a number of months ago. I wish you could have met her, she was wonderful." If he engages with more than just an awkward, "I heard", or "I'm sorry", you'll know you can chat to him a little more about Annette, that is if you're comfortable doing that. If you can tell he feels awkward at the mention or you aren't feeling able in that moment to open up, perhaps just say thank you or whatever is appropriate and ask him a question about himself to move the conversation along. In similar circumstances I've always found that whichever way it goes, I feel a lot better for at least having acknowledged the 'elephant in the room'. You may be surprised though, if he is a good man he will at least try his best to console you and talk to you about your loss, your mental health and how you're coping.

Certainly though, do meet with him as lots of people have already advised! Even when I don't want to see a single soul, I feel a lot better after seeing a friend for a bit. You will feel so proud of yourself for doing it and Annette would also be super proud. If you're not enjoying yourself, you can always make your excuses and head home too. 

Try your absolute best not to overthink the meetup though. If you find yourself spiralling into worry over it, stop the thoughts in their tracks, maybe even say out loud, "No, I won't spend my time at this, thank you!" and do something active or distracting. Make a cup of tea or go for a walk. That doesn't always work, but I believe the more you practise it, the more effective it becomes (in my experience). As someone, somewhere once said... "Not everything we tell ourselves is true." (Forgotten who and am probably also paraphrasing 😅) I'm an introverted person, not by nature but due to anxiety and depression and a growing dislike for humanity... but when I want to do something social and I'm worrying too much, I talk to myself out loud and I remember that there is nothing that makes a single person out there better than me. We are all humans, all flawed and all going through things.

I'm really looking forward to hearing how this goes. If the plans fall through at all, even if you decide it's too much and cancel them yourself, try not to beat yourself up over it or feel too disheartened either. Come here and talk to us about whatever has transpired! Good luck x

On 12/21/2021 at 6:26 PM, nashreed said:

Your post hit me, as I am struggling through the season like never before. Last Christmas (the first after Annette passed), I still had the novelty of being home with my mother and brother after 9 years, so I could enjoy it for what it was. The novelty has passed, and it's just not doing anything but making me miserable. Honestly, this month I have been thinking so much of how I could end it all, just to be with Annette- but I can't because of my Catholic fear of it preventing me from going to Heaven, and that's the whole goal, to see Annette again. That's all I think about. It will be the happiest day of my life. 

I absolutely cannot talk to my family about this, and have no one to tell this to except the good folks here. I talk to Annette every day, but I don't like to be too depressing- I still don't want her to worry. I feel so disconnected from myself, and a part of me is still waiting to be able to get back on a mythical flight back to my old life, to our home. It's amazing how one single person was everything I needed- I have never been so bored with life and disinterested in it. I could just sit around and watch TV with Annette, and it was wonderful. Now, I just want to go to bed and hope that I can dream of her (but I rarely do). 

When I was a kid, my Mom probably sent and received 100 Christmas cards a year. This year, she's gotten 7. I can't pretend I'm a kid anymore and Christmas holds no magic. It's easy to shop when you're dead broke, but I managed to get 3 gifts each for the 2 of them. I should be happy that I have my family. I worry constantly about how many Christmases my Mom has left (she's 85). She gets around fine and has no health problems besides a chronic cough she's had for years (food allergies, she won't stop eating bread, pasta, etc.). 

I hope everyone here at least finds something to be thankful for and gets something nice as a gift. I cannot recommend enough NOT listening to Christmas music. 

James

 

 

Hi James. I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry for the loss of your soulmate. I'm not sure that anything I would say would be of comfort to you, as I'm not in anyway religious and don't hold the same beliefs, but I can feel through your words just how spectacular your love together was and although that is the reason for your unbearable pain, it is still and will always be a beautiful thing. I hope the fresh air of spring comes around quickly for all of us struggling with winter and the holiday period. Take care of yourself x

2 minutes ago, KarenK said:

Bunflo, just wanted to say how very sorry I am for your loss and all that has taken place since. I am appalled at the way you have been treated. My in laws lived far across the country from us and I had very little contact with them. They never meddled in our lives and both were already gone when my husband died.

I hope someday soon that your partner's mother realizes what an injustice she has inflicted upon you.

Thank you so much Karen x

2 hours ago, Marg M said:

It is.  Billy always called me Marg, unless he was angry and then it was Margaret.  My sister calls me "Moggy" and the same, if she is perturbed at me, it is Margaret.  It was an old name when Mama gave it to me.  Many relatives generations back carried it on.  Now, it really is an old woman's name and it dawned on me, I'm the last one to carry it.  (in our immediate family).  I'm glad to make you smile.  I had to watch the series "Grace and Frankie" to laugh the first time, and it felt good.  

My middle name is Margaret, after my grandmother and I have an aunt called Margaret too! I think 'Moggy' is a great nickname for it. 

6 hours ago, Marg M said:

I answered like I know what I'm talking about.  I had trouble with my in-laws at first, but lost my fil to cancer early on.  My mil did not live much longer.  First five years she and I were at a sort of war.  I wish you could have seen "Nanny."  In the old movies the women's prison warden looked just like my mil.  That woman could curse any sailor out any day.  I remember someone asked her if she liked her new dil.  She had only one bad thing to say.  "She's not a good housekeeper."  How could I get angry?  I'm still not a good housekeeper.  I had Kelli at 5 years into being married.  She was Nanny's favorite and Kelli got to keep her, and Nanny got to love her for about eight years.  And, as long as my Kelli is alive, her Nanny and her Maw will live too.  She is as tough as both of them.  Billy's family was a lot older than mine.  We didn't keep him or them long enough.  So, I can't fuss about my in-law's.  Now, Nanny was a "rounder" and Billy loved her.  I think when my fil passed, she had a date with the undertaker.  Billy had a lot to live with, but he loved his family.  And, I miss them all.  I'm sorry for the trouble you all had with in-laws.  I had my share of conflict with a sil.  I sat with her in the hospital when she passed from lung cancer.  The doc once asked her how many packs she smoked a day and she said four.  She was in her 70's.  Her son and Billy had gone out in the hall.  I watched her clean sheets folded once down from her neck.  She was asleep.  She was in no pain.  She did not move a muscle, no twitch to her face, totally peaceful.  I watched her breathing, no bad breathing, and then I noticed the sheet was not going up and down.  I called the nurse and Billy.  I had never seen anyone die before.  Billy loved her so much.  She was so much older it was like another mother. 

I had never bought groceries.  Dumb-ass kid.  We ran out  fast.  My in-laws were poor.  We ate with his folks the first month or so.  His mom made the best "fat back" pinto beans, cornbread and sweet tea, onions grown in my father-in-law's garden.  (He would not let anyone come in his garden).  I think I only have good, but sad memories. 

I'm sorry this pandemic is in such a mess.  I'm sorry we cannot enjoy holidays.  I'm sorry.

I hope you don't mind me saying this (is your name Marg or possibly short for Margaret..?), but parts of your stories have almost made me giggle and I am so, so grateful for that. Anything that makes me smile or laugh these days is sorely welcomed and I have loved reading everything you've written. Thank you for sharing so many little memories and tidbits too. Families are difficult, as if it isn't hard enough dealing with our own relatives at times. In laws, or the equivalent to I guess in my case, can be a pure nightmare. It's all just so tragic, I'm sure we could even cry for each other at times. I'm so sorry for your loss and I agree with you wholeheartedly, it absolutely helps to be a little crazy... In fact I think it's essential x

Enza, I'm so glad you have been able to go into the music room now and that you're able to take time to grieve. Once I left my home and moved back into my parents house, I didn't have our bedroom or his study to go and be still in anymore. I've found it has maybe helped in a sense but broken my heart more than was necessary too. I have little things of his I managed to keep, but I know how you feel when you say you couldn't stand to play the songs you and he did. I can't bring myself to watch new episodes of our favourite TV shows, or rewatch the movies we used to watch on repeat together at bedtime. There is music that I will listen to, because music was such an important part of him and our relationship, but I can't help but breakdown and cry at a lot of it. I'm reminded of him even in things he will never see or know about and sometimes I think that's even worse than the memories attached to 'our things'.

Kayc, I can't believe the gall of your ex fil and I cried when I read about your daughter and her cat. I cry about our cat all the time and I know sometimes people think it's a bit stupid, but pets can be just as important as people in my opinion (to be honest I prefer then 99% of the time). 

I keep having flashbacks to that last text message the would be mil sent me and feeling moments of frustration and rage. I wish I could forget about it completely and ofc I distract myself by sleeping or driving or being with family and friends, but it's eating away at me. The way she's spoken to me and how much I miss the cat. She probably thinks I've left her too, but I'm right here! She has always been comfortable in his mum's house, so I wanted her to stay there anyways. She wouldn't have settled well at my parents, but to think that she's wondering where her daddy is (they were inseparable, best friends truly) and that I'm also completely absent is just pain on top of pain on top of pain. I have to learn to accept these things as they are, because I'm not willing to stoop to hurting people to get what I want. Not even because I like to think I'm a good person because honestly if I saw her right now I might not be so silent, but because I keep trying to react to everything the way he would want me to. When I can. I know I'm not reacting to his death the way he'd want me to, but that's just pushing it haha.

13 minutes ago, Gwenivere said:

It sounds like you are still staying in his house.  It’s your house too....your home you shared with him.

Sadly I was forced to leave our home. His mum informed me not long after my partner's service that I had four weeks to leave and I had no legal standing. We were unmarried, he hadn't drawn a will up yet and he owned the house, my name was not on the mortgage. 

I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. There are no soothing words, as we all know too well. Honestly I feel better when people avoid the subject altogether now and simply talk about their day or their stresses. Even if I'm not taking half of it in, most understand enough to know concentration isn't my strong suit at the moment.

Thank you all so much for your replies. It means a lot to see that anyone has taken the time to read what became an essay in the end! I hope more members are able to respond, more that have had difficult MIL experiences like you have shared with me V.R. and some that have also lost partners they weren't married to, who have experienced feelings of isolation and powerlessness as you've touched on scba. It helps so much to know that what I'm feeling isn't wrong or unfair or cruel or simply self-pity. I need to know I have every right to feel these emotions. If anyone has lost someone due to addiction too... although I'm sure I will find an entirely separate thread addressing this. If anyone has any suggestions or can point me towards any real time chat rooms, I would really appreciate it. Preferably in the UK, but I'm awake all hours at the moment anyway and grief is most certainly universal.

If I can ask, what was it that you all did in the months after losing your loved ones that helped you to let go of the things you couldn't control and helped you accept the fact that others can be completely dismissive of your pain because of their own grief? I'm also learning that people's separate experiences of grief can have them offering up words and advice that are more harmful than helpful? I thought my grandmother, who lost her youngest son suddenly when he was only 23, would be the person I could talk to the most. Sadly, she is more concerned that I'm visiting her less since my love's death and doesn't seem to understand my emotions at all.

I would also love to hear from anyone who has had things taken from them by a deceased partners family that you owned together or that meant a great deal to you, purely due to the fact you had no legal standing. If so, how did you navigate the extreme feelings of despair and betrayal surrounding that? I know that I won't retaliate as it will only make things worse and upset and anger us all further, but my heart hangs heavy under the weight of this.

I need to find some way of reconciling reality and what I wish was reality. Not just when it comes to my partner's death, but also everything that has come afterwards that has been so unexpected and unimaginably difficult. I felt I had to contact the coroner directly for information on my partner's autopsy results. His mother had told me that as soon as she had been given the final cause of death, she would contact me. I knew it was taking too long and that I had every right to know. In fact I feel very strongly that I should have been directly informed along with his mother. So much was just taken from me, as if I had no right to anything other than a choice of flower arrangement (which he wouldn't have wanted, because he wouldn't have wanted a service at all!) and a spoonful of his ashes. It turns out the report had been filed for weeks and she hasn't told anyone outside of her now husband and my partner's father, her ex-husband. Not even his own brother knew. She feels shame because his cause of death has been officially recorded as being alcohol related, but I can't fathom how anyone can prioritise worry over other people's opinions in a time like this. I certainly can't fathom how the shame she feels keeps her from sharing that information with his only sibling and with me. So much stigma and guising to save face. So much falsity when all that should matter is how much we love him and how brilliant he was, faults and all. How dare she be ashamed of anything connected to him. 

I thought this evening that I was in a better space and was feeling a little festive, so I put a Christmas movie on in bed. It only served to remind me of our last Christmas together and that we'll never have one together again. The permanence of it all and how absolutely unfair it is still catches in my throat. It's so difficult to accept any of it.

I hope you're all doing okay during this holiday season, whether you celebrate it or don't and whatever okay means to each of you now. All my love.

~This is much longer than I had intended it to be so if you take the time to read it all, thank you so much.~

I lost my best friend and partner to alcohol poisoning a few months ago. I'm 33, he was 36. We've been engaged, broken up, friends and back together again during the last 16 years. He was my first love. I like to tell myself that I'm coping okay because there are some days I can go to the shop or see friends or family and it seems like a normal day, but those days only make the next day even more unbearable. Like trying to live without him only makes his absence much more obvious and painful.

Any time we argued over how much I was worried about the drinking and that I was terrified I'd wake up to him dead some day, he'd tell me not to be stupid. When I imagined that scenario I was certain it would end with me in a psychiatric ward. Too much had happened in life already and there was no way I'd ever cope with him dying. I don't understand how it's possible that my worst fear came true. I don't understand how I'm still sane. I don't understand how family members can already be asking, "You're still feeling that bad? I thought you'd be a bit better by now." I don't understand how during the two weeks it took for the coroner to release him and for his service to take place, his mum and I were making arrangements together and now she won't speak to me. The last message she sent me was so shockingly dismissive and cruel it made me physically ill for days.

She turned up at our house 3 days after his funeral service and told me I had four weeks to move out. She removed his belongings the next evening while I was out, without giving me any warning. She took our cat home the day she found him dead in our home and at the time I knew it was the best thing for them both. Now she is refusing me access to my own cat and I regret being so thoughtful. She isn't "just a cat" either, she's our cat. We got her when we were living in another country together ten years ago. She's all that's left of our life together.

When his mum referred to me as his 'special friend' during the service, I brushed it off. She didn't really know if we were together or not, we didn't talk about our relationship status with anyone this time around. It was nobodies business and we were happier without everyone's opinions and reactions. When she made me leave the house as if I was some stranger renting a room, I held my tongue. I had no rights, he owned the house and left no will. When she told me she needed some time before she had anymore visitors, I respected that and I didn't contact her for almost 6 weeks, even though she promised me she wasn't going anywhere, that I would always be welcome, that I could visit our fluffy baby whenever I wanted. When I finally tried contacting her, only asking to see the cat, the response I got from her was shameful. I don't know how she can be so cold and insensitive and it pains me so much when I wonder what her son would think of it all. He wouldn't have wanted it this way. A mother's grief, however unimaginable, is no excuse for this.

It's Christmas soon and instead of he and I sitting watching movies and admiring our tree with our kitty snuggled up between us, I'm living in my brother's old room in my parents house struggling to remember what day it is. As if his absence isn't hard enough, everyone else is conveniently aware of how much time is passing. They're keeping a note of the things I'm managing and the things I'm not- especially if the things I'm not managing are putting others out. The evenings I pour a glass of wine are met with raised eyebrows. The amount of days each week I simply don't get out of bed don't outweigh the days I'm up pottering about, but they're still noted. I'm not eating enough or drinking enough water. I need to go outside more. I need to see friends more. I should maybe see friends less and visit family more. I need to "let it go", life is unfair and I can't control how others treat me. I just have to "mourn the cat the same way you're mourning him. Remember, you still have the rest of your life to live. You can't let this break you."

My instincts that day were telling me not to leave him, but he was so convincing. He'd been almost two months sober and our friend and I had had this long weekend planned for months. Why did he squeeze me extra tight as I was leaving though? Was it just an 'I love you' squeeze because we hadn't spent time apart in ages or was it something sinister? Did he want to die that night? Was he really drunk and he simply passed out and fell to the floor? Lay unconscious until he stopped breathing? Or could he feel something was wrong and he was too scared or too drunk to call for help? The coroner couldn't give me those answers. We didn't even get a time of death. I will never know why he was found on the kitchen floor, but the bedroom door upstairs was damaged and there was vomit on the duvet cover. How did he not fall coming down the stairs if he was that drunk? Why was his backpack on the counter along with some shopping, as if he'd just come in the door when it happened? If he was really drunk, drunk enough that he passed out or had a seizure, he couldn't have walked to the shop. Why did I leave him that day when I was still concerned? Why didn't I insist his mum break our front door down that night, when I was hundreds of miles away and knew something was wrong?? Why did I listen to her going on about not wanting to disturb the neighbours and that he was "probably just passed out asleep"? I lay awake all night in that hotel bed, wide awake, staring at our messages, praying I'd see him come online just once. I didn't even want a reply anymore. If I could just see him online, I could relax.

I remember sitting trying to eat an egg for breakfast the next morning, knowing that no matter what, we were cutting our trip short and going home straight away. His mum called me as her husband was trying to climb a ladder and squeeze through our bedroom window. I remember hearing him open our front door and say, "call an ambulance." She hung up and I rushed back to our room. I remember our friend hugging me tightly on the bed as I rocked back and forward waiting for his mum to call me back. Our friend was promising me he'd be okay, that he was just being a selfish idiot again. Alcohol was the devil. He'd drank too much and passed out and maybe even needed his stomach pumped, but he'd be okay. I think she was trying to convince herself, because I knew she was wrong. His mum called me back, I cried out before she'd even told me he was gone and threw up. Our friend and I had met through my partner many years prior. They were old school friends. She must have been in so much shock and pain too, but she managed to somehow get us home that day. We had been best girlfriends from the day he had introduced us, two peas in a pod. During the reception, after the funeral service, there was a book people could write messages in. In our friends message, she thanked him for all the wonderful, hilarious memories and for giving her me. I couldn't even think of anything to write.

I remember our drive home, but I couldn't go home because he was still on our kitchen floor with his mum holding him, waiting on the ambulance to take him to the morgue. I went to my parents house but I couldn't settle and I made them take me home that night. I remember walking towards our dark house with my key in hand, praying this was all a nightmare or some cruel joke and that he'd be in bed with the cat, waiting for me to get home and yell at him for the panic he'd caused. There was his backpack on the kitchen counter, along with an open packet of jam donuts and some pringles. When I looked in the bin I could see how much he'd drank. The corner cabinet door was damaged and the fruit bowl was on its side, like he'd maybe tried to grab hold of something. Everything was just as he'd left it. The tablet was plugged in and still running a game upstairs. An empty chocolate wrapper was lying on the table by the sofa in the lounge. His beanie hat was exactly where he always threw it after he got home. His vape was sitting charging. He'd bought a pot noodle and some tins of pepsi max. The new ginger flavour. They've stopped making it now. I lay on the floor, in the place I could see he had been and cried my heart out as my parents watched in dismay. Mum stayed over with me that night and I didn't clean up until the next day. His mum didn't seem happy that I'd cleaned up but that was my home, not hers.

I woke up in that house everyday until the day of his service, expecting him to walk through the door at some stage with yet another pair of new trainers and a McDonald's cheeseburger. To be honest, I waited everyday after the service too. Even as I was packing up my boxes in the early hours of the morning, the day the removal crew were arriving, I was mad he wasn't there to help. Why did I have to do all this by myself? Why did I have to do it at all?? He'd asked me to move in with him the previous year when he bought the house and now he just leaves me to deal with this alone?

114 days later and I still can't process any of it. It helps to write it all down though. I haven't been crying a lot again, I go through phases, but this is cathartic. Willow, my mum's dog, was sick this past weekend. We had to take her to the emergency vet. I spent two nights awake with her, feeding her water from a syringe and keeping her temperature down with a cool cloth over her ears and paws. He was her favourite human. I think of that every time she's trying to give me slobbery kisses. I miss him so much my chest hurts. There are so many things already that I wish I could tell him. He'd probably have already seen it or read about it, but it kills me I can't share these things with him anymore. I've never felt so empty and alone. I don't feel like I have a home anymore, that I belong anywhere and I've never felt this way before. I have no idea how to face the rest of my life after this. If one more person says "one day at a time", I'll scream. 

I wanted to post something somewhere online, hoping for some relief and because there is a severe lack of mental health support in my local area atm due to covid restrictions and a crippled healthcare system. I also wanted to find out if anyone else has had any experience with partner's families turning cold towards you or treating you badly out of nowhere? That's what makes me feel sick most days at the moment and I've been trying my best to move forward and forgive his mum. I can't imagine her pain and I've never claimed to. Still, she has no right to dismiss my grief, no right to treat me like I no longer exist and can't see our cat. I know there's absolutely nothing I can do about it that won't cause more anger and pain and upset though. 

I keep coming back around to the idea that I must deserve all that's happened. For all the times I lost my patience with him and moaned at him over stupid things. Lecturing him for handling work and his stress the 'wrong way' and for not setting boundaries with his overbearing mother. I didn't take care of him well enough. I was always asking him for more than he was capable of giving. I didn't accept him as he was, I was too demanding. I never did the dishes. I stopped spending the evenings with him when he was drinking. I couldn't stand watching him drink so fast and get drunk so quickly. I couldn't stand the smell anymore, or how badly it made him snore. No matter how much I begged, he would just say, "I'll take a break tomorrow night."

I would give ANYTHING to have that snore back now. I would sit with him every night, even have a few drinks with him. If he hadn't been sober for two months and hadn't been to the GP and started medication for his anxiety, it might not have killed him.