Grieving, Or Is This A Personality Disorder?

[marsha]

OK, going back to the pact we all made to post whenever we felt bad - here goes. January 1st would have been our 24th wedding anniversary - it's also 6 months to the day when Joe died. "When Joe died" - I write it, but there are times I still can't believe it. I'm sure the anticipation of that day is weighing on my mind. I go to work in my deli, come home, post and read, journal, eat, and go to bed. Oh, and drink wine. Then I do the same thing the next day. I've turned down invitations from friends for all the holidays, I just sit here in my house, my comfort zone, and do what I do. I don't know if this is normal, I've never been through this before! I'm just afraid it's some strange manifestation of my personality coming forward. I need to hear - has anyone gone through this? Am I normal? Help. Love, Marsha

[kath]

Dear Marsha,

Did I ever tell you how I love reading your posts because they ask the very same things I was wondering at the time, but did not find my way here until much later? I assure you, you are entirely normal. But then again, maybe I'm not either, so then we are mostly abnormal??!

I look back on the last year (I'm coming up to 1 year 7 months) and I wonder how I could have wasted so much time. But then, I take stock in where I am at and realize that nothing was wasted, I did just what I had to do to get to this point. I did much the same as you. I forced myself to go out occasionally when invited as that was the recommendation from my aunt who had recently lost her husband. When I did, I can't say it was fun. I certainly didn't feel "chatty" or entertaining by any means. I preferred to stay home, read and play pool on my kids Game Boys. (I haven't admitted the Game Boy part to anyone, so don't laugh.) It was my way to zone out, to not think, to just be alone without the constant questions, the nagging doubts or fears that come with this new life. I was free to cry, free to remember, write, miss, think. I worried about if being able to sit for several hours a day and not accomplish anything was normal. I was afraid to ask, because if I had to change, I don't think I had the energy or the desire to do so. Guess what? Slowly I started engaging in the things I enjoy. I did things I never dreamed I'd have the courage to do.

If you look back to the first week or the first month, how comfortable were you in your home? The things in mine that I now take comfort in used to sear me with pain at the sight, the smell, the reminder. You are taking care of youself and that is what you need to do to heal. It takes time. So, take all the time you need. It is good and very much okay. I'm starting a new job on Monday. If I hadn't had the time I did, I would have in no way been prepared to go to this next step. Be patient with yourself, Marsha. It is a long process and I'm not there yet, but I've gone pretty far from where I started.

Love,

Kath

[mlg]

I think it is normal. At least you came to this site early on for help. I didn't come for 6 mos and then just mainly just to read.

There is nothing wrong with what you are doing. I don't know if you were a social person before or not. That would put a different spin on the story. If you were outgoing before maybe if you did just one think a month or quarter even to get you back with people. I find the more people I'm with the better I am, but I have always been very social. Tom was not when we first got married but at one point early on in our marriage he took on a second parttime job at a liquor store. It was probably one of the best things he ever did because it made him come out and become a much different social person. He had only wanted to do things with family before that and then we ventured out in to new friends also. Even though we did most things with his family we still had other friends. Thank heavens for that since his family has pretty much abandoned me.

You just have to keep taking baby steps and be comfortable in what you do. If you become too much of a recluse after a while and that is not you then maybe it is time to get professional help. You are just 6 mos in to this and it's no fun. Give yourself some time.

[Rosemary T]

Well, I guess I will join the "abnormal" crowd then. I hate being away from home any longer than I have to. When I go to work it is different because I am a middle school assistant principal. Believe me, I don't have time to think about anything but what I am doing during the time I am there. But I cannot stay away from home at night. I have had some family and friends invite me out of town but if it is not close enough to get back into the bed I shared with Lou I am just not interested. And if I am just "visiting" with friends or family (I don't have many) after a few hours I get a bit restless and want to head home. I feel most comfortable in the room where Lou and I spend each night together. I have his urn and his pictures there. I also love our family room where I can sit on the couch, pet the cats and watch TV. I will look over at Lou's chair and imagine him there with his leg thrown over one side. Each afternoon I feed the birds and raccoons out back. Sometimes I'll sit on the screened in patio and listen to my water fountain and watch the "critters" eat the treats I have left them or smell the Gardinias blooming on the bush.

Some of the best years of my life with Lou were spent in this house, each room and each spot around this house holds wonderful memories. I have nothing but those memories to live off of so I can't imagine being anywhere else. I keep an open mind though. God will let me know when it is time for me to do something. He always has in the past. In the meantime I will "wait" and find comfort in what I can.

Marsha, you are not abnormal! And it is ok to be a little selfish right now. Take care of your self!

[Dusky]

Marsha,

I know the feelings you are having and I still experience them at the three and a half year mark. Sometimes it is just difficult for me to believe Jack is gone. These feelings are especially evident during holidays and any date that marks something special like a birthday, anniversary or the date of his death. I am afraid that somethings - such as these feelings of disbelief - these days of seeking a "comfort zone" - are just something that stays with us - always. Over three years since Jacks death - this Christmas - was difficult - just as it was on the first, second and third Christmas without him. People don't notice the pain on my face as much any more (I have probably gotten good at concealing it) - but its there - for me. Its a pain I have learned to live with and accept. It does help knowing that others experiences the same pain, however it does not ever totally go away.

I have a dear friend that lost her husband 25 years ago. She told me recently that each year as the anniversary date of his death approaches - for about a month - she feels different - on edge - in anticipation of "that date." After 25 years I can still see tears in her eyes when she speaks about her husband and all the years that he never got to enjoy. That disbelief that he is gone still visits her from time to time. So I know what I have to look forward to.

I still experience these feelings of disbelief - and "yes," there are days when I can almost feel comatose - withdrawn - just wondering from room to room - somewhat aimlessly. Its as if I am looking for Jack - asking the question "where are you," and knowing that I will not receive a reply. Thats why I write - and why I wrote my book, "Finding My Banana Bread Man" - to help me "Find My Jack" - in the only way that I could - with my pen.

You are normal. Either that or we are all just a little crazy. And if we are crazy - I can't imagine a better group of people to be crazy with.

Love and peace to each of you

John - Dusky is my handle on here

Love you Jack - And Dusky

[Corinne]

Marsha,

It was 12 years yesterday since my precious Jimmy is gone. I still find myself having those moments. Every Christmas I have to go for a walk by myself and have my alone time to spend missing my love. So I too am one of the "abnormal".

Love,

Corinne

[JandE905]

I like being in my house also. I only go out to work because I have to. I'd rather stay home, I feel closer to Eric here. But when I'm home, I really don't do anything. Eric & I would love to stay in and watch tv. We watched movies all the time too. Now, I can barely sit through a half hour show. I feel like I've lost all interest in everything. Most of our friends seemed to be really Eric's friends. I have a few close friends where as Eric would hang out with anyone who would talk to him. He was extremely socialable. I just really have no desire to do anything anymore. I find no joy in anything that I do. I can't sit and watch tv because I don't have Eric to talk to about the show/movie. I don't have him here to talk about my day or call when I need him. I know that I have given up on life. I've said it enough times to everyone, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my kids. I have no desire to do anything that makes me happy because nothing makes me truely happy anymore. I didn't have that special feeling for Christmas that I had all the previous years with Eric. I only cared that my kids were happy. I basically am living for my kids, Eric would be disappointed in me if I didn't take care of our kids. I put on a good show for everyone but these are my true feelings. I don't care to be happy because I don't have Eric here to share it with. I also think now, what is the point of doing anythng, one day my life will be over and nothing that I have done will matter. People won't care. What I don't understand is how everyone is your friend while you are here and then once your gone, its like that person never exsisted. I still have all of Eric belongings and I never plan on getting rid of them. I feel as if I get rid of them that I am saying goodbye & accepting that fact that he is gone. I still believe that some how I may wake up one day & he will be here. I know everyone may thinks I'm crazy but sometimes that the only thing that helps me get to the next day. I know that I am rambling here. Thanks for listening to whatever I was trying to explain..

Jenn

[singledad2]

Jenn,

Your feelings of simply 'existing' are ones that we all go through. It feels like you will never be able to be happy again. It SHOULD feel that way! We've lost the one person in our lives that we planned on spending our forever years with. I am just 9 months into this journey and I can't imagine being with anyone other than my wife. If/when I begin dating again, it will be so unfair to compare her to Julie--it's a game no one could win! I'm sure that no one could ever live up to the magic that Eric created for you and your children. I don't know when the pain stops Jenn. Just when I think I'm doing 'better', something triggers a very detailed vision or memory of something she did or said, and it's like March 31st all over again! I do know that those moments are becoming less frequent--no longer 30-40 times a week. Now they are down to about 10-12.

I ran into an acquaintance at the supermarket recently. He lost his wife to breast cancer 4 years ago. I hadn't seen him in probably 7 years. He made it a point to offer his condolences and tell me that it was going to be rough for a while, but that with good friends and family supporting me, the pain would lessen. This was a big, rough, tough ranch hand who had been taken to his knees by the loss of his beloved wife, and had climbed his way back up to find happiness--not without scars, but happiness that worked around those scars. The scars are still there and always will be. However, the Lord provides us with a resilience that allows us to heal emotionally over time. Jenn, I don't know what to expect out of my healing process. Time seems to be flying by so fast right now, so I guess I'm not impatient in that regard. I admire you so much for your strength in handling everything with your children. Though they can provide you with opportunities to spend every waking moment caring for them and avoiding the hurt, I would encourage you to find some time each day to work on healing yourself. I've found that having conversations with Julie about our family and the things she was so good at, is very helpful to me. I feel like she is guiding me and that she is still playing a major roll in the decision making process with our four kids. Again, this doesn't stop the pain that comes flowing through, but it does allow me to maintain some balance in my life and also a feeling that I am not all alone in this effort.

Please continue to post and share. We are all here for each other. It's okay to hurt.

SD2

[kayc]

Okay, maybe we all need a shrink because I feel anything but normal. It's been 3 1/2 years for me too...the word "aimless" hit me, that is a word I can relate to. I feel like I have really been set back the last few months...I tried so hard to rebuild my life and it didn't work, now I'm back to square one. No one to talk to, care, help, listen, share the joys, whatever. I miss George. He had such a zest of life and enjoyed each and every season of it, it hits me hard around the holidays or changing seasons. Finding that all of the friends must have been theirs is pretty common...I found that too...actually, I don't know why, but family and friends disappearing seems to be a common thing that happens. If it doesn't happen to you, you are fortunate. George's family disappeared, as did all of our friends. I didn't know I was chopped liver until then. I am most comfortable at home, but also lonely and without purpose. The pain is incredible. Will it ever get better? I hope so...if there were no hope of it getting any better, how could any of us endure this? I've always loved life, I want to again. But I've been doubly hit and don't know how to get through it. I keep plugging away, one foot in front of the other, hoping that'll do it. What else can we do?

Six months is a really hard place...it's when reality sets in, when you realize that when you listen for the sound of their footsteps, none will appear. I don't know that it gets any better when we stop listening for them. But we do get sort of used to this. I make effort to get out and around people, mostly at church, but it feels like I'm not a participater no matter what I do, I feel like I'm observing life from the sidelines. Normal? I have no idea how normal any of us are, but I think our feelings and behavior is normal for what we're going through. I don't know that any of us can remain unscathed, but I do know there are benefits that we glean from having gone through this...we become more empathetic, compassionate, we don't take life for granted so much, we appreciate more, at least I do. I am not the same person any more. It seems like a million years ago since I lost George, my life has changed so much, how I'd love to have him and my life back, but that's not happening. I don't know what to hope for any more, I guess I leave that to God, hopefully He has something good in mind...some time in my life. I can't imagine another 40 years of this. Maybe that's why I try to take good care of myself, I want to give God all the more chance to make something good happen in my life...

Some people don't think it's good for us to go on line and post with people we haven't met, like we've checked out of reality or something, they don't understand it...even my friend that lost her husband. But I see her throwing dinner parties night after night and in her own way, she's doing the same thing as I am, just in a different way...trying to keep busy, connect with someone, not think so deep...but when she's alone the result is the same...I can tell by the wadded up tissues I see on her coffee table every time I stop by. She sees this as talking to strangers, but I don't think of anyone here as a stranger, this is my family, it doesn't really matter to me if anyone understands or agrees or not, you are all people, just a real as I am, this isn't virtual reality, it IS reality.

[singledad2]

If 'strangers' are people that you have never personally met, then I guess we are all 'strangers.' But I wouldn't call people who share and learn about each others life shattering experience, 'strangers.' How many 'family members' have had their spouse/partner torn away from them? How many 'friends' have had to sit alone night after night, hoping that they would wake up from the most terrible nightmare ever? Sharing is when each side has something to give. Our friends and family are lucky that they aren't 'sharing' in this experience. The sharing in this forum is from people who want to talk, share, unload, or find comfort from each other. Unfortunately, everyone here has something in common--the extremely strong wish that we all had NOTHING in common!

Kay, you have been through hell and back. No one should go through what you've experienced, but you are making it. It's not easy, and it's not over, but you will emerge from your experiences a much stronger, more resilient woman. I am a firm believer in the saying 'what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.' I just wish that none of us had to be the 'human guinea pigs' for this saying.

This Christmas season, let's all try to spend a little time reflecting back on happier times and realize that our special someone is looking down on us from above and providing us with the strength to move forward. If we didn't believe that, who among us believes that we could handle alone, the terrible hand that life has dealt us? Close your eyes and see his/her smile when you walked into the room. See the way that his/her eyes lit up after you returned after being gone for a while. Hear their laughter when you told a corny joke. Breath deeply and take in the smell of their skin as you held each other. The mind is a very powerful and awesome tool that can provide us with very distinct memories. Don't let those fade away--use those memories to help get you through the rough times.

Take care all,

SD2

[Dusky]

A few things struck me when continuing to read the posts on this particular thread. Kayc’s comment that said, “I feel like I’m observing life from the sidelines” is certainly a true one and I have had the same feelings many times. Some of our friends and families may not understand sharing our feelings with people in an on-line grief site, however, for me each of you have become very dear “family” members. Each of us has to deal with grief in our own way and I am grateful to have found this wonderful site. It is indeed an essential piece of my healing process. I feel as KayC does – none of you are strangers. Moreover, I have a special kinship to KayC – who is on almost the same grief time line as I am – three and a half years. You are a special person to me KayC!

Singledad2 had a beautiful reminder when he said, “The mind is a very powerful and awesome tool that can provide us with very distinct memories. Don’t let those fade away – use those memories to help you get through the rough times.”

This message reminded me of one of the last of twenty poems I wrote in the first year following Jack’s death. It was early on the morning of January 19, 2007, the weather had turned usually cold the previous evening, and frost killed much of the vegetation in my yard - which was very unusual for the Phoenix area. As I sat there that morning, I wrote the following poem. It was a reminder to me that my memories were indeed a very powerful healing tool. Here is that poem – it is a repeat for some of you – but for so many of the new faces on this site it will be “new.”

“Memories Of Green”

A killing frost - fell on the ground

It took away life - all around

Green and fresh - what I recall

Living breathing plants - so tall

Remember how the sun would shine

How the rain would feed the vines

Remember how it was all small

And how it all grew into tall

And then the killing frost arrived

With mighty force - and deadly stride

It took away life – all around

As dusty white - fell on the ground

Death becomes what can be seen

But I have “Memories Of Green”

And so it is with cancers march

Just like the frost – a molten starch

It takes away all life around

It spreads and chocks - and turns life brown

Remember how - the sun would shine

How love became - the story line

Remember how - we grew from small

And how – we grew from small to tall

Life is like the frost we see

It sometimes kills the beauty

And underneath the killing frost

Are memories of all that’s lost

Death becomes what can be seen

But I have “Memories Of Green”

When frost has taken life from you

Erased and snatched what you grew

Remember how the sun would shine

How the rain would feed the vines

Death becomes what can be seen

But you have “Memories Of Green”

© John R. Davis 01/19/07

I hope the words of this poem help each of you in some way.

I would also like to invite each of you to visit my web site at http://findingmybananabreadman.com/ . It is filled with inspirational pieces of information as well as music. Although my web site was established to help promote my book, “Finding My Banana Bread Man”, I am not seeking sales by referring you to this site, but rather to provide another source of inspirational messages and music.

Love and peace to each of you

John – Dusky is my handle on here

Love you Jack – and Dusky

[mlg]

Kay

Your friend must have a lot more friends or "users" than the rest of us because most of us feel like lepers. Nobody wants to be around us. Yes, I have had a couple cookouts this summer including one for my grief support group but the thing that bothered me about them is noone wanted to mention Tom's name. It's like if you put your head in the sand it will all go away, but it won't, and not mentioning him makes me feel worse.

Sd2

I do sit and smell one pillow that still has his scent, but sometimes I feel like it makes my hole in my heart even bigger because I miss the smell, the touch, the kiss, etc. I still sleep with the pillow that was under his head when he died. It will soon be a year and the same pillowcase is on it. I just put a clean one on top of it. Even though it has lost a lot of it's smell it I heat it with the blow dryer some of it comes back.

Eloquent Dusky

I loved your poem and it is so true only ours just seemed to be the grass growing taller and mowing every day.

Everyone here

Will we ever again know what is normal. We all have to develop new normals but what is that? I guess we just keep plugging along and one day it will have happened and we don't even realize it.

As far as strangers go our respective spouses were at one time "strangers" and what if we hadn't taken the risk with them. Yes, I think there are possible dangers in posting things but I can't imagine anyone wanting to come to our level of hurt just to do something mean to us. I think each of us has thought about leaving at some time but if one phrase, one hug, helps someone get through this, then it's like Fred said the other day, How do you leave?

[kayc]

Yes, I think you hit the nail on the head, I think we need a "new normal".

I appreciate so much, Marty starting the "Loss of a Love Relationship" because it has been doubly hard for me to have lost my wonderful spouse to death, and THEN to go through the loss of my next husband due to his...what would you call it, jerkyness? The one loss just brought home to me all the more, the first one, and it has greatly intensified my grief. How does one get over all this?

[southern eagle]

A few things struck me when continuing to read the posts on this particular thread. Kayc’s comment that said, “I feel like I’m observing life from the sidelines” is certainly a true one and I have had the same feelings many times. Some of our friends and families may not understand sharing our feelings with people in an on-line grief site, however, for me each of you have become very dear “family” members. Each of us has to deal with grief in our own way and I am grateful to have found this wonderful site. It is indeed an essential piece of my healing process. I feel as KayC does – none of you are strangers. Moreover, I have a special kinship to KayC – who is on almost the same grief time line as I am – three and a half years. You are a special person to me KayC!

Singledad2 had a beautiful reminder when he said, “The mind is a very powerful and awesome tool that can provide us with very distinct memories. Don’t let those fade away – use those memories to help you get through the rough times.”

This message reminded me of one of the last of twenty poems I wrote in the first year following Jack’s death. It was early on the morning of January 19, 2007, the weather had turned usually cold the previous evening, and frost killed much of the vegetation in my yard - which was very unusual for the Phoenix area. As I sat there that morning, I wrote the following poem. It was a reminder to me that my memories were indeed a very powerful healing tool. Here is that poem – it is a repeat for some of you – but for so many of the new faces on this site it will be “new.”

“Memories Of Green”

A killing frost - fell on the ground

It took away life - all around

Green and fresh - what I recall

Living breathing plants - so tall

Remember how the sun would shine

How the rain would feed the vines

Remember how it was all small

And how it all grew into tall

And then the killing frost arrived

With mighty force - and deadly stride

It took away life – all around

As dusty white - fell on the ground

Death becomes what can be seen

But I have “Memories Of Green”

And so it is with cancers march

Just like the frost – a molten starch

It takes away all life around

It spreads and chocks - and turns life brown

Remember how - the sun would shine

How love became - the story line

Remember how - we grew from small

And how – we grew from small to tall

Life is like the frost we see

It sometimes kills the beauty

And underneath the killing frost

Are memories of all that’s lost

Death becomes what can be seen

But I have “Memories Of Green”

When frost has taken life from you

Erased and snatched what you grew

Remember how the sun would shine

How the rain would feed the vines

Death becomes what can be seen

But you have “Memories Of Green”

© John R. Davis 01/19/07

I hope the words of this poem help each of you in some way.

I would also like to invite each of you to visit my web site at http://findingmybananabreadman.com/ . It is filled with inspirational pieces of information as well as music. Although my web site was established to help promote my book, “Finding My Banana Bread Man”, I am not seeking sales by referring you to this site, but rather to provide another source of inspirational messages and music.

Love and peace to each of you

John – Dusky is my handle on here

Love you Jack – and Dusky

John,

Thank you from the bottom middle and top of my heart for your website link. It was just what I needed today!

Patti

[kayc]

Singledad,

Your words were just what I needed...

"let's all try to spend a little time reflecting back on happier times and realize that our special someone is looking down on us from above and providing us with the strength to move forward. If we didn't believe that, who among us believes that we could handle alone, the terrible hand that life has dealt us? Close your eyes and see his/her smile when you walked into the room. See the way that his/her eyes lit up after you returned after being gone for a while. Hear their laughter when you told a corny joke. Breath deeply and take in the smell of their skin as you held each other. The mind is a very powerful and awesome tool that can provide us with very distinct memories. Don't let those fade away--use those memories to help get you through the rough times."

As I have posted on "Loss of a Love Relationship" what I am going through, I have been struggling with feelings of rejections and self esteem issues as well as mourning the loss of my husband John, while going through a divorce I never wanted but have to option other than to pursue. It has been especially painful to go through this during the holidays while he and his girlfriend continue to live together in our Motorhome, drive our car, both of which I have to pay for and insure, and continue to use the cellphone I'm paying for...and to have her leave a message for me on Christmas saying "Merry Christmas from me and John!" particularly unnerved me!

When you posted the above quote, that seemed to draw my attention away from what John is doing to me and how it affects me, and back to how much George loved me and draw comfort, once again, from that love. I am not unlovable, or ill esteemed, I had a man that cared for me more than anything in the world, and if he could only be here, he'd be showing it! Thank God our love was enduring and even death itself cannot kill it. This is the love that we aspire to, not the other that leaves us desolate and feeling worse. This is the love that gets us through life, even when they are gone.

Thank you, Singledad!

[Dusky]

Patti,

I am glad my web site found you at "just the right time."

John - Dusky is my handle on here.

Love you Jack - and Dusky

[AnnC]

It's been 4 1/2 years for me, and the holidays are the hardest. It's also been two years since my Dad died. This holiday season has been really rough. Especially because, due to miscommunications on Thanksgiving and bad weather on Christmas, I spent both holidays alone. And I was simultaneously relieved to be alone and resentful not to be included.

I find that I am much like my Dad, who was a real homebody. It took my Mom to get him to get out and do things, and my husband did the same for me. Most of the time I am happy alone with my cats and my books, and I have a few very close friends I see, plus the wonderful people at work. But I do need this site, too, because other people don't like to talk about those who have died. I need to talk about them sometimes. In the first year after my ex-husband died, I talked about him constantly. I still miss him terribly, even though we got divorced many years ago, he was my best friend after that, and I miss him.

Most of the time, I do well, and am happy. But the holidays will always be difficult, I think. Especially since my Dad went quickly downhill beginning Thanksgiving night 2006, and died Dec. 7th.

Ann

[Donna]

OK, going back to the pact we all made to post whenever we felt bad - here goes. January 1st would have been our 24th wedding anniversary - it's also 6 months to the day when Joe died. "When Joe died" - I write it, but there are times I still can't believe it. I'm sure the anticipation of that day is weighing on my mind. I go to work in my deli, come home, post and read, journal, eat, and go to bed. Oh, and drink wine. Then I do the same thing the next day. I've turned down invitations from friends for all the holidays, I just sit here in my house, my comfort zone, and do what I do. I don't know if this is normal, I've never been through this before! I'm just afraid it's some strange manifestation of my personality coming forward. I need to hear - has anyone gone through this? Am I normal? Help. Love, Marsha

I don't think you are crazy, or else I am too. My husband Dave died on Dec 26th 2008. It was so hard watching him die before my eyes and not be able to do anything about it. He had cancer that was supposed to be "stable" but in five days from the time I found the cancer was back, he was gone. I held him in my arms for the last time that morning at 8AM. I couldn't even hug him towards the end because his pain was so bad. I still can't seem to accept that he is gone. Typing these words seem to make it more real and the tears are falling. Love Donna Adams

[kayc]

Donna,

I'm sorry you are also going through this. You have found a good place to come and air your feelings, we've all been through it.

KayC