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One week gone

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I don't want to do this every week.  I only woke up twice last night and did take pill to sleep.  Tylenol PM works best.  I do not want to think.  I do not want to "see" what I saw last Saturday.  Got to get the images out of my mind.  

I received a card from a classmate who lost her husband, she called him "sweetheart husband" 12 years ago.  She quoted something that helped her "Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal; love leaves memories that no one can steal."  

Nothing reaches me.  Only, I remember this person's husband passing years ago.  Then her mother, then her brother, who was younger than her.  You have to experience loss yourself to feel empathy for someone, otherwise you feel sympathy.  I was not there for my friends, I was living in the moment of still having  my spouse, knowing I would go first, selfishly hoping this.  But one fussed with her husband, had to leave to go to a granddaughters surgery in another state.  Called home over and over.  An aneurysm or blood clot took this young man during the night while she was gone.  That was 16 years ago and she did not even get to see his body.  One nursed her husband for seven years from a stroke that took his way of life, before it took his life.  There are so many "if's" that I cannot dwell on them.  If I could have saved him last week end, we would still be facing a terrible death.  I have no saving graces.  I need the peace from God, but how can he reach me if I won't let him in?  

Now I think about the plans we made if either of us were to leave.  We would get in the RV with cremains in the passenger seat, or seated safely close.  But see, I was supposed to be the cremains.  It sounded romantically tragic.  Now it scares the dickens out of me to move anywhere without him by my side.  I promised myself I would never be a burden to my kids, the way my mother is to my sister.  My mother needs in a nursing home, but my sister would lose the house she lives in, that is my mothers.  My daughter has gone back to NM.  My son is here with me, but he has been with us now most of his life.  He goes off for awhile, but then he comes back.  I think maybe about getting a rental property back in Louisiana, which is our home, but Billy and I both hate homesteading.  We were RVers, gypsies, nomads, meanderers.  Now I feel like a big rock in the middle of the road.  

Life will come back to me if I look for it , but his life will not come back  to me.  I would not accept he was dying.  He finally made me accept it last week-end, but I still cannot face reality.

Went to see my neighbor, Hettie.  Was feeling weird, disconnected to person, place that I was.  I had had one of these before when I was fighting cancer 33 years ago.  I did have to go to a psychiatrist (which Billy did not believe in going to, when I had him to talk to).  This was serious though, I had run off and left a basket of groceries in the checkout line, ran trying to find my psychiatrist, could not find her and had to call her.  I cannot remember how I called her now.  We did not have a cell phone.  Had to have help to get to her office.  This morning was the same, I felt like I was dying, hyperventilating.  I did take a whole Xanax, finally calmed down and instead of drinking only Boost and Ensure, I had a can of cream of chicken soup and a glass of V8 fruit juice.  The soup was not bad.  I ate it all.  I had a small McDonald hamburger Thursday but had to wash it down with coke.  Hard to swallow.  I have to come out of this.  I know it has been just a week, but does anyone have anxiety attacks?  This was a definite, full fledged, think I am dying, don't care, panic attack.


Edited by Margaret Mims
panic attack
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