Why Does It Feel Like It's Getting Worse And Not Better

[Jan Thurman]

This month has felt like it has been worse and not better. Could it be that it is my anniversary month. It was 5 months August 4th. Some people I talk to seem so surprised that I'm still having a hard time at 5 months. How can you get over being married for 40 years and talking to that person every day and being with that person every day in 5 months. I just don't get it. Sometimes I feel like screaming at the person. Even my mother who has been through 2 husbands passing away says you shouldn't still be crying. Thank god I have a wonderful daughter that lives on the next property that will sit and listen to me. I cried and talked to her the other day for 2 hours. Even though she is grieving she says I can't imagine how you must feel because it is different. That is so true. My support group starts up again tomorrow and I am so thankful for that but I am glad that I found this web page. Thanks for listening. Jan

[shhh65]

Jan,

No it is not wrong to be still crying at 5 months. We just discussed this at my grief support group last night. Every person grieves in their own way. There is no right or wrong way to do it.

I was married exactly 42 years and 7 months on the day (Dec 22nd last year) my husband died unexpectedly. I knew our anniversary (May 22nd) would be especially hard because it was also the same day of the month as the day he died. It had taken me a while to be able to open my Christmas gifts from him, one of which was a massage. I saved it and used it on our anniversary. It seemed to help me get thru the day a little easier.

Keep posting your feelings and reading the other posts. I know for myself that it has been a great source of comfort in addition to my regular grief support meetings. I pray that it will do the same for you.

Sherry

[dpodesta]

Jan,

At 5 months it will seem slike it is getting worse instead of betteer. My experience was it kept feeling worse for about 9 months or so. I know that another 4 months of this can seem like an eternity so don't focus on the future. Just try and take things on day at a time. I know time is not what you want to hear right now but this does all take time. Just keep in mind no one can say what you should be feeling right now. Even those of us that have been through this can't say what you should or shouldn't be feeling. Each of us is different in how we deal with the death of our loved one. All we can do is share what we have experienced. And what I can share is it will get better, just keep coming here and we will be here to help you.

Love always

Derek

[LarrysGirl]

Jan, You are very early in your grief. There will be moments when you feel like you are feeling better yet there are also going to be times when grief will overcome you again. Don't rely on others expectations of you and a time frame. You'll get honest answers here on this site from others that are grieving but anyone who suggest to you otherwise hasn't lost a spouse or partner. I know you want to feel better, it just takes its own time. Deborah

[MarkCarol]

Jan, I personally don't believe we ever "get over it." I think we just somehow learn to cope with the pain of loss. Everyone is different. It sounds like you as well as many in this group, including myself, had the deepest bond imaginable with our spouses. That's really rare in today's world.

Anyone who even suggests that we shouldn't be grieving after a few months has obviously not experienced that depth of Love themselves. To have found that one special person who made our lives whole. That one person that we wanted to be with every minute of the day. Our true soul mate who we could share our every thought. That special person who we know would have been there for us as much as we were there for them, no matter what.

We can celebrate that we have that true everlasting love that goes way beyond "til death do us part." Those people who are critical of our grief cannot even comprehend the true meaning of Love. We know the true meaning and that's all that matters.

[mlg]

Jan, after almost 7 months I have some really bad days and I know a lot of us do if you just read the posts. Today was one of the worst I've had in a while and I'm not sure why, if it's because it's my granddaughter's first birhtday wihtout him here or if it was just going to be.

As far as your mom goes, I'm assuming we are somewhere near the same age so our parents would be too. I just don't think the generation before us "loved" in the same way. I remember being upset when my dad died because I didn't think my mom cried, grieved whatever you want to call it enough. Now I wonder if she did it at night like I do, but things she says I don't think so. It's not that they didn't love each other they just didn't show their emotions. I don't know if it was because a lot of them were war brides so they had to be "tough" or what.

Last night at my grief support group we went over the Mourner's Bill of Rights. I was going to put it on here but it won't let me paste it. I don't know if you can google and find it or not, but if not and you want a copy email me and I'll get you one. I think it would mean a lot to several of us because it lets us know that others can't make the decisions for us. We have to do it in our own time and in our own way.

I hope you're feeling better tonight and know there are lots of stars in the sky watching out for you.

Mary Linda.

[kayc]

Jan,

My question is more, how could you NOT still be grieving at 5 months?! Your mother and mine are from the same generation that thought everything should be private and we should be stoic...they didn't read self-help books or go to therapy, everything was kept in the closet or under the rug, it's just how they were raised. But that in itself is not necessarily healthy, because things get suppressed and they don't have a good outlet for dealing with things, they stay in denial...that can take its toll on our bodies! In the end, I think we are better off for working through things, for processing these changes, pain and all.

5-6 months is also when reality kicks in and it seems to be harder for a lot of people than it was even at first...that's because you finally realize they aren't coming back...you stop looking up to see them come through the door or hear their voice on the phone...it's a tough realization. Combine that with your anniversary, and no wonder you're having a tough time!

I wish I could give you a big hug, I'm so glad you have your daughter to listen. My kids were great too, and even now, three years later, we still talk about George. Just last night my son said he really is sorry is kids won't have a "grandpa George". When you love someone that deeply, it just doesn't go away...and figure in 40 years together, well it just has to be hard is all. We are all here for you, you can talk to us as well, any time you want.

Love,

Kay6C

[leeann]

The Mourner's Bill of Rights

by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

Though you should reach out to others as you do the work of mourning, you should not feel obligated to accept the unhelpful responses you may receive from some people. You are the one who is grieving, and as such, you have certain "rights" no one should try to take away from you.

The following list is intended both to empower you to heal and to decide how others can and cannot help. This is not to discourage you from reaching out to others for help, but rather to assist you in distinguishing useful responses from hurtful ones.

1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief.

No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. So, when you turn to others for help, don't allow them to tell what you should or should not be feeling.

2. You have the right to talk about your grief.

Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. If at times you don't feel like talking, you also have the right to be silent.

3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions.

Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don't take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will accept your feelings without condition.

4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.

Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don't allow others to push you into doing things you don't feel ready to do.

5. You have the right to experience "griefbursts."

Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out.

6. You have the right to make use of ritual.

The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of someone loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More importantly, the funeral is a way for you to mourn. If others tell you the funeral or other healing rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don't listen.

7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality.

If faith is a part of your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry at God, find someone to talk with who won't be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment.

8. You have the right to search for meaning.

You may find yourself asking, "Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?" Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like, "It was God's will" or "Think of what you have to be thankful for" are not helpful and you do not have to accept them.

9. You have the right to right to treasure your memories.

Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them.

10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal.

Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.

I found this here:

http://www.centerforloss.com/articles.php?file=mourners.php

Hope it helps.

[Ejn]

I'm sorry for your loss Jan. My husband of 46 years passed away 9 months ago and I truly believe it's getting worse. I cry every day. Day and night. I sometimes think there is something wrong with me. My best friend, the other day told me to stop feeling sorry for my self. I am glad you have your daughter there. My daughters are in different states and I am alone here.

[MartyT]

EJN, I'm so sorry that you're feeling so isolated and alone ~ and so unsupported, misunderstood and misjudged by your best friend. Unfortunately our grief often outlasts the willingness or the capacity of our friends to listen to us or to offer us the support we so desperately need and deserve. The only people who truly understand are those who have suffered a loss similar to our own.

I see that you are from Peoria ~ Have you considered participating in an "in person" grief support group near you? You can call Hospice of the Valley's Bereavement Office, 602-530-6970, for information on times, locations, etc. for such groups, which are offered all over the Valley. See also HOV's Bereavement Services, and be sure to scroll down the page, where you'll find two support groups listed specifically for Peoria.

[LarrysGirl]

Ejn, I'm so sorry for the loss of your husband. It IS PERFECTLY NORMAL to be grieving for your husband even after nine months. I lost my Larry almost three yrs. ago and I'm still trying to find my way, still feel totally like an alien on this earth. I've also had people say to me, now you are just feeling sorry for yourself. I say YES I AM! I've lost the lost of my life, I've lost the life that I shared with him, I've lost the dreams we had for the future, I've lost my best friend, what do you expect! Please know you are feeling exactly what you should be feeling at this point in your grief. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Deborah

[Jan Thurman]

I want to thank you all for your replies. They have made me feel much better. I start my support group again tonite. Also, thank you for the list I will print it out and post it on my wall at work. Jan

[mlg]

Jan, I'm glad you got the Bill of Rights. I don't know if you got it to paste or if you just typed it out but I hope it helps several people. Maybe you can even share it with your support group. That is how we start each meeting.

Ejn, I am so sorry that your "best" friend made that comment to you. Obviously she hasn't lost someone so near and dear or just has Superman coping skills. I have talked to several people who actually say their second year is worse than the first because the numbness has worn off. Do you have a grief support group in your area? I have made several friends through mine and we can cry in front of each other and noone thinks anything about it, plus now we are starting to develope new interests. The other night 12 of us went out to eat and to the Muni. The restaurant was new to 8 of them and the Muni to 6 of them. Some like it others didn't but at least they tried it.

Just keep plugging along and hopefully we'll be the support you need.

Mary Linda

[MikeC]

Jan,

I've been without Janet for only 7 weeks and it definitely feels like it is getting worse to me. Nearly everyone says it will continue to get worse. Given how lost and alone I feel now, that is not a very comforting prognosis.

Before she died, Janet told me "You have the hard job." Looks like she was right.

Mike

[mlg]

Mike

I think all our loved ones worried about how we were going to carry on, but I don't think they began to know how hard it would be. I'm glad they are doing "happy" things but I resent the fact that I'm here and so lonely. Nobody can make up that loneliness for us, not family, friends, grief support groups or this website, but they do help. I think we will all have that hole in the pit of our stomachs forever, even if we do learn how to go on. I know when we all talk about how it still hurts it probably brings some people down but it's also nice to know that people understand your pain.

Keep coming back here often, even if you don't post. Sometimes just reading others words are comforting and Marty always seems to come up with something good at just the right time.

Keep your chin up and your heart open and talk with us.

Mary Linda

[Dusky]

Jan,

I have marked the three year mark of Jack death and your post reminded me so much of the unsolicited advise that others tried to give me during the first year following Jacks death. I hesitated responding with what I am about to provide you , however I figured it was the best way to show you (in writing) what I faced during the first year following my loved ones death. I am going to cut and past one entire chapter of my book ( Finding My Banana Bread Man - http://findingmybananabreadman.com/ ). This particular Chapter addresses many of the comments you put in your post - and these words tell you about my experience and how I dealt with it.

For those not interested in reading 5 pages here - please forgive me - but I thought they may help you - Jan.

Here it is:

Chapter Nine

Searching: Recovery Spans A Lifetime

For at least six months following Jack’s death, the pendulum of grief swung feverishly, without break. Seeing how tormented I continued to be, a few well-meaning friends offered gentle, but misguided, guidance. “Just let it go,” they advised. “When you do, you’ll feel better.” They were being kind, but I believe they were thinking, Enough already, John. Get over it; it’s been months. All dwelling on Jack is doing is making you sad. Forget about him, and move on.

They were ridiculing my grief! My life had been forever changed by Jack’s death. He was gone, and the person I once was went with him. I missed who I was with him; all that was left was this stranger in the mirror. The person I used to be was dead, and they expected me to move on. Where was I supposed to move on to?

Dear Jack,

Sometimes I do not know what to do with all the elements of this new life without you. Things are so foreign without you; people’s reactions to me are so foreign. I am still the same person. I am still alive. I did not die, but sometimes I feel as if others think that I did. I am sometimes treated like the living dead, someone to be remembered but not contacted, someone to be thought of but not spoken of, someone to forget about, so that the pain will leave.

John Boy

My friends’ advice wasn’t unique; they were just repeating what society keeps telling them about the proper way to handle mourning. It encourages people to “let go” of their loved ones because this is the only way grieving hearts find closure and peace. Society is wrong! You have to keep going, and allow yourself to be reborn as the new you: the you who has journeyed through mourning.

I became annoyed—disgusted even—by some people’s resistance to my grief. Sometimes I received rigid and pious religious prescriptions for the correct way to handle grief. When I refused to do it the prescribed way, which is to “bury my past” and preclude Jack as a part of my future, I was accused of not being a man of faith. Again and again, I defended my belief that my future was not based on a buried past, but on a remembered past, our past. I defended my choice to rely on my deeply rooted spirituality, rather than on a specific religion, or the words in the Christian Bible.

Our disagreements put distance between us. Unable to accept my grief, they backed away. But why? Why retreat from me? Because the weight of my sorrow became too much to bear? Because I reminded them of their own sorrow? Because they were afraid, and their fear isolated me from them?

I Became Their Greatest Fear

Some say that I can’t let go

Gentle hearts that think they know

Others say a buried past

Is where you should now rest at last

Others tell me that they know

How my past should be “let go”

How to grieve and how to cry

How to feel and when and why

Those who do not understand

Have not been to this dark land

When they could not see you here

I became their greatest fear

Friends who were the closest to us

Fussed and cared and brought food to us

Once you were no longer here

I am now what they all fear

Calls and contact used to flourish

Constant tales to encourage

Now the message is quite clear

I am now what they all fear

Those who do not understand

Have not been to this dark land

When they could not see you here

I became their greatest fear

For those who think they know it all

And those who cannot make a call

Letting go that’s what I must do

But it’s not you who must go

They will become my buried past

It’s where they should now rest at last

Letting go that’s what I must do

But it’s not you who must go

Those who do not understand

Have not been to this dark land

When they could not see you here

I became their greatest fear

There’s a saying that goes like this: “Grief rewrites your address book for you,” and my experience confirmed this. After I’d wasted too much energy responding to my critics’ advice to let go, and trying to get them to see pain my way, to understand that I expected my recovery to go on forever, I finally let go … of them. And I literally rewrote my address books. I removed names from my Christmas card and e-mail lists, and only kept contact information for family members and friends who understood the grieving process, or at least acknowledged pain without judging me

I also made a decision to close my ears to the chorus of misdirected advice, because I often became so frustrated with these people that I wanted to scream, “Leave me alone! Your grief is measured in much less time than mine!”

Your Grief Is Measured In Much Less Time

For many months, I stayed connected

I shared, reached out, and felt respected

But as the months and years have faded

I know your heart is feeling weighted

He was my bright shinning star

His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar

It’s not that I have changed my stance

I speak of love and lost romance

I write of tears and grief that’s molten

Of broken hearts and futures stolen

I talked of pain that’s here and real

I made you think and made you feel

I seldom left without a passage

To lift your heart and send a message

He was my bright shinning star

His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar

I have tried with so much passion

To talk and teach and show compassion

All this despite my own faith shaken

My spirit crushed, feeling forsaken

I tried to put you front and center

To help you grieve and to remember

But as the months and years have faded

I know your heart is feeling weighted

He was my bright shinning star

His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar

My recovery spans a lifetime

Yours is measured in much less time

He was my bright shinning star

His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar

Some of you don’t want to hear

Of all the pain and all the fear

Run from all that’s here and real

Run and do not think or feel

Some of you I’m gently leaving

Letting go and sadly grieving

I seldom leave without a passage

To lift your heart, so here’s my message

He was my bright shinning star

His loss, a stunning jolting jar

My recovery spans a lifetime

Yours is measured in much less time

Some of my friends and family members couldn’t walk the road of mourning with me, but many could, and they became the core of my support. These kind souls drew closer to me as they moved toward my grief. They sustained me with phone calls to ask how I was feeling—and they really meant, “How are you feeling?” They listened to my every word, and offered a proverbial shoulder to cry on.

They extended invitations and opportunities for me to get out, and they complimented me on my strength of character, my ability to move forward, and on my devotion to Jack’s memory. They often remarked on my great capacity for fostering his legacy. I was humbled by their loving actions toward me, as well as overjoyed—and grateful beyond words—for all of their kindness. Because of them, I was up to every challenge put before me

Searching - Examining closely or thoroughly. Keenly observant.

A little voice inside of me became a constant companion, reminding me I was on a journey that would take me the rest of my life. It would be a slow journey, taken one baby step after another, but it was clear that forgetting Jack was not going to lessen my grief or shorten how long I’d grieve; it fact, the only way I would ever achieve any peace at all was through finding My Banana Bread Man, by remembering him. Death, in its bizarre way, was forcing me to look at my blessings.

I tried to remember as many details about Jack as I could. This comforted me, and I found it sustained my connection to him, as well as maintained my emotional bond with him. My life was enriched each time I recalled:

• His walk, the way his arms swung when he moved, how his feet hit the ground.

• The way he talked. I catch myself using some of the same vocal inflections Jack did. It’s only natural that I do that, after so many years together. I’m pleased when friends say, “You said that just like Jack would have. It was like he was here.”

• His special way of telling me he loved me. “Do you know how much I love you? Lots lots.” Whenever I sign off on an e-mail, or letter, with the words “Love you, lots lots,” I’m reminded of him.

• Jack’s signal that he was ready to wind up a phone conversation. He’d say, “Soooo …” I say the same thing, and I love it, because it allows him to live through me, and by remembering this, I heal.

• How he followed up a request with the words “just once.” He’d say, “Could you bring me a cup of coffee, just once?” It’s quirky, but I’m fond of it. I don’t want to ever let this go.

I don’t want to let anything about Jack slip away from me, or from anyone who loved him. And if remembering makes me cry, so be it, because every tear I shed brings me one tear closer to feeling peace.

“When the rain washes you clean you'll know. You will know.”

Stevie Nicks, “Dreams”

______________________________

I hope this helps.

John - Dusky is my handle on here

Love you Jack

[KathyG]

It's coming up on 9 months since Bill died and this thread has come up exactly when I need it most. I was coming along pretty well, going back and forth between bad days and good ones but definitely showing signs of recovery. And then in the past week or so, I've slipped way down again. I'm in so much pain; right now things ARE worse for me.

My counselor suggested that I may have reached the point where the protective numbness has faded and I'm starting to realize and feel just how deeply losing Bill has affected all areas of my life, even small things. I think she's right.

But I'm also tired of struggling for 9 months with no break from it. When my sister's doctor changed her medications, almost immediately all her bipolar behaviors that were worrying our family went back into remission. I'm happy for her. But how I wish someone had a similar miracle cure for me, that would let me be free of this crushing sadness for just a little while. Yeah, I know - the only way is to suffer through it.

At least I know better than to try to put a time limit on my grieving. And I don't get upset anymore when someone expresses concern or surprise that I still feel so much pain, because I know they can't understand me because they've never experienced similar loss.

It means so much to me that all of you hear DO understand and offer your support when I feel like it's all too much.

[kayc]

"The person I used to be was dead, and they expected me to move on. Where was I supposed to move on to?"

That is the dilemma we all face when we lose our spouse. It takes quite a while to adjust to the new person we become out of necessity.

[WendyJ]

I am now at 17 months and I was driving to work today and while I was sitting at a light the overpowering thought came over me that Steve was gone...my stomach dropped and you would have thought I had just been told for the first time. No warning, nothing before that happend to bring it on. On the way home from work I could not get out of my head that day sitting there next to him after he passed in the hospital holding his hand and family members coming in to see him and be with me for support. Sometimes I think it is maybe the upcoming weekends which always seem so lonely that might bring these feelings on but know you are not alone in your feelings.

Love,

Wendy

[AnnC]

I just passed the fourth anniversary of my ex-husband's death, and I do well most of the time, but I have my moments, and the sadness of loss will always be there, I know now. You just get a little bit used to it.

Here is what I experienced: My ex-husband and I loved each other very much, but he was gay and we got divorced. We were best friends, especially close during his illness. When he died, I felt widowed -- but no one saw me that way. "Why are you so upset? He was just your ex." Well, I chose to marry this man, and the fact that marriage was not the right relationship for us does not change that fact. Love is love.

I cried every day. At first, I knew I would grieve, and I thought I could handle it. But it got worse over the months, as many of you are saying. After about six months, I went to see a grief counselor and join a grief group. The counselor told me it is classic to feel the worst about 6 to 9 months after the death, because that is when the shock wears off. Personally, I cried every day for two years. Then every other day for another year.

People have told me to let it go, to move on. Many have said, "He would not want me to feel this way." I say, Too bad. Besides, I know he would understand. His dearly beloved partner died suddenly in 1991. Eleven years later, my ex would choke up talking about him. My ex had "moved on" -- he had had other relationships, he no longer cried every day, he learned to live again. But I know he went through what I am going through. When people say he would not want me to feel bad, I say, "You are wrong. He would understand. He experienced loss, too."

I have a few understanding friends. My ex's boyfriend whom he met during his illness were of enormous support to me, as ell as other friends of his and mine, and I hope I supported them. Some of them I didn't even meet until I went to the funeral. We email frequently even now, more than four years after he died. Sharing the loss is huge. Having people to talk to who understand is huge. My grief counselor says, sometimes having even one person who understands how you feel makes the difference between moving through your grief, and getting stuck.

Slowly, so slowly that it's hard to measure the progress, you feel a little less miserable and raw. There are some books with checklists to see how you are feeling, and you can read it again every few months or annually. You find that you really have progressed, but it's hard to realize it without some measure like that. But I no longer wake up and have the loss hit me in the face immediately. I don't cry myself to sleep every night -- just some nights, especially near his birthday or our anniversary, or the anniversary of his death. Or MY birthday, because I am getting older and he died at 50. I have his pictures around, and I like to look at them. I am finally at the place where usually pictures and memories make me smile rather than cry. But sometimes, they still make me cry. That is normal.

I have had other relationships, and loved other men, both before and after his death, though I am not currently in a relationship. But as with everyone you love deeply, he was irreplaceable. Other loves are different, as everyone you love is different. His boyfriend has found a new love. But we still talk about him, and he, too, feels the grief. Fortunately, his new boyfriend understands. He says he is happy to be with someone who can love that deeply. I like that way of looking at it.

I still have days when I just cannot believe that I can't pick up the phone and call him and have a long chat. Those days just happen less often now, but they do still happen.

I love what you wrote, Dusky -- I do believe recovery takes a lifetime.

Ann

[MartyT]

Bless your sweet and caring heart, Ann ~ I'm so grateful for your wise and insightful words, at this point in your grief journey ~ and for John's as well. By sharing your reactions and experiences so openly, you're helping so many others to feel less crazy and alone . . .

[Dusky]

Annc and Marty,

AnnC,

Thank you for your beautiful story - it reflects many of the same things I experienced myself.

Marty,

Sharing on this site has been a life line for me. Thank you for making it available for all of us.

John - Dusky is my handle on here

Love you Jack

[jackietnd1]

Hi Jan,

Its been 5 months for me also and I feel you pain no one can till you when and how to greif pisses me off. Sister we are in this together for me its been 16 years for me however it does not matter the time. What we had was so special....So greif and do your thing just don't tell them talk to us we are here for you. Jan Keep the Faith and if you feel that no one understands remember Jackie does and we walk together

Love you All

Jackie

[cheryl lee]

I have never been to a site before, but this is touching my heart, My husband just died recently and I ask myself the how long question,reading what everyones going through makes me feel less alone,it makes me feel like its ok to feel what i do,my heart is never going to be the same,everyone says it will get better, when does this happen?

[dpodesta]

Cheryl,

First of all I am glad that you found this site. The answer to the question of how long is different for each and every one of us. For some just a matter of a year or so anad everything seems to get better for others it has been longer than 3 years. It is different for each person. For me after I got throuh the "Firsts" of the first year things started to look up. I no longer have that since of doom and gloom and the "Why me's" while I still miss my wife and while she still holds a special part in my heart that will never go away I have found happiness. Once I found out who I was as a single person again and accepted that I am single I was able to start living again. I have even started dating again. Some people here will tell you that they couldn't possibly date again and that is for each person to decide for them selves. You have found wonderful site and we are all here to help in anyway that we can. Feel free to post anything that you are feeling or any question that you have no matter what it is I can guareentee that there is someone here that will reply that they have felt the same or done the same thing and that you are not going out of your mind or crazy for thinking that way.

Love always

Derek