It hurts so bad

[mittam99]

It's amazing how many times you're doing something run of the mill and all is well. Like driving, watching TV, eating... anything really, when...

A thought just pops into your head that causes you to burst out into tears.

Then there are those grief triggers that make your lips quiver, get your stomach in knots and make your tears flow non-stop. 

Here are three words that amply describe the grief "journey" we are all dealing with: THIS JUST SUCKS.

 

 

[TerriL]

Brat, you and Gwen brought up another thing I've been dealing with, as well. Groceries, cooking, take-out nights, etc. I never know what to eat now. Paul would always get the take-out, unless it was a place that delivered. And I'm not sure I could go there now anyway---it would be a reminder of him and how our order used to contain the items he loved so much and now would be just mine alone. My husband also did a lot of the cooking, since he was used to being the cook at the fire station. He loved making me roast beef with carrots, potatoes, onions and baked ziti. He also made the most delicious soups! I'm the baker, but I don't feel like baking or cooking when it's only me. It seems like a whole lot of work and pots and pans just for me. And then, you sit and eat alone. There are times I just make a peanut butter sandwich and that's dinner. I can't shake all the memories of how it used to be during happier times. I watch couples when I'm out and they'll be joking and laughing with each other and I think how much i miss feeling like that. All I want is to have that back again. 

It's so true, we really do end up wearing a mask to the world. You wear it so other people will not tire of you and wind up leaving you even more alone than you already are. At least they will still occasionally call you if you muster the energy to sound somewhat upbeat. 

[mittam99]

Terri,

I did 99% of the cooking at our house. Not that Tammy wasn't a good cook, she just seemed to love my cooking and I loved cooking for her. She always said my secret ingredient was TLC. Watching her eyes light up when I made a scallop dish, or shrimp scampi or my crab cakes... really any of my meals, put a huge smile on my face. She was especially fond of my "kickass" chili as she used to call it.

I was making a meal of some of Tammy's favorites on March 6, 2015. Corned beef with candied carrots and mashed potatoes. A meal Tammy never got a chance to eat. These days, here and alone I honestly don't cook many meals at all. Salsa and chips are sometimes a meal for me. I eat because I have to eat. The joy just isn't there. On the other hand, I did recently buy a smoothie maker and have been drinking a lot of healthy smoothies,

I have to give myself a pat on the back for something I'm doing. I've been exercising quite a bit and overall eating healthier foods. The exercise actually seems to put my head in a better place. I figure anything I can do that does that is a very good thing.

[iheartm]

57 minutes ago, mittam99 said:

It's amazing how many times you're doing something run of the mill and all is well. Like driving, watching TV, eating... anything really, when...

A thought just pops into your head that causes you to burst out into tears.

Then there are those grief triggers that make your lips quiver, get your stomach in knots and make your tears flow non-stop. 

Here are three words that amply describe the grief "journey" we are all dealing with: THIS JUST SUCKS.

 

 

Oh this is just so true. It is my life every day. Out of nowhere I just well up in tears. Sometimes it's just a moment and I can pull myself together after a short time but other times it is an hour or more before I cry it all out. 

Grocery shopping is the worst. It's so lonely when you are shopping for one. No more thinking, "Ohhh, we'll have this tonight..." or "We'll have that tomorrow..." or calling him and saying, "Wanna have xyz tonight," and him saying, "Sounds good to me, babe." No more. If I pick up something from a takeout place, it feels so sad to be only getting one meal. Using Seamless or GrubHub is a rarity now because as one person I'd have to order more than one meal to reach the minimum delivery order.

 

[mittam99]

One thing we all have to do is eat. And that means we all need to grocery shop. I personally haven't come to grips with buying for one yet. I tend to buy way too much out of habit, I guess.  As far as eating out alone, I just can't do it and I certainly can't go to places Tammy and I loved to go to.

Tammy loved drinking an ice cold beer every now and then but due to the pain meds she was on she had to settle for O'Douls. There's still two of them in the fridge. I don't drink the stuff but I can't force myself to throw them out.

I guess a part of me is still hoping against hope that Tammy is just on some extended vacation and will be back. If only.

[kayc]

Oh Mitch, it doesn't seem possible it could be an entire year already!  I am so sorry, I know how hard the anv. of death is, it always is for me.  A very lonely unsettling day.  My heart goes out to you.

[iheartm]

19 minutes ago, mittam99 said:

One thing we all have to do is eat. And that means we all need to grocery shop. I personally haven't come to grips with buying for one yet. I tend to buy way too much out of habit, I guess.  As far as eating out alone, I just can't do it and I certainly can't go to places Tammy and I loved to go to.

Tammy loved drinking an ice cold beer every now and then but due to the pain meds she was on she had to settle for O'Douls. There's still two of them in the fridge. I don't drink the stuff but I can't force myself to throw them out.

I guess a part of me is still hoping against hope that Tammy is just on some extended vacation and will be back. If only.

I think it is so amazing how many things we strangers all have in common. It feels like very single post I read here is something that I have happening to me on a regular basis. Then I start thinking people reading my posts are going to think I am making these things up because how can someone have all the exact same experiences? Well, here we do...

M loved a cold O'Douls too because he could not have regular beer. He also loved Trop50 Blueberry Acai juice. There are two unopened bottles of the juice in the fridge here that expired in January and I just can't get myself to throw them out.

[iPraiseHim]

I still talk to my wife.  What that's not normal?  I miss her more than ever!  I really don't like be alone and without her. "It sucks" is a good metaphor for this condition.  It is just where I am at.  I feel like I'm just doing time until it's time to go home.  Most of my joy left when my beloved wife died and I don't know how to get that back.  I don't like thinking about it and frankly can not see how this condition is going to improve any time soon.  My hope is tomorrow will be better.  Shalom

[mittam99]

8 minutes ago, iheartm said:

I think it is so amazing how many things we strangers all have in common. It feels like very single post I read here is something that I have happening to me on a regular basis.

Here's the thing. Sure we may be strangers in the sense we haven't met in person. But the reality is we all have lost the love of our life. We now have this new life we're trying to come to grips with. Being here in this forum, in this community we have a bond. Unlike the folks who have never experienced grief like this we can share our thoughts and experience and feel a sense of comfort knowing that others reading our words are nodding in agreement.

Many married people lose their spouse. But not all of them were soul mates, like all of us were. People in loveless or average marriages aren't here in this forum. I can say almost without question that everyone here was madly in love with the one who passed away.

So in that sense we share a lot in common.

[Gwenivere]

1 hour ago, iheartm said:

I think it is so amazing how many things we strangers all have in common. It feels like very single post I read here is something that I have happening to me on a regular basis. Then I start thinking people reading my posts are going to think I am making these things up because how can someone have all the exact same experiences? Well, here we do.

I feel if I hadn't found this place I would surely have lost my mind.  Not that I want one single person here to feel the pain they and I do, but to read it from someone else so helped me see I was not going insane.  So many things we can't say to anyone they would understand.  Not unless they have been there.  Sometimes I read posts that bring to tears because the writer puts to words something I can't as eloquently.  It is not easy coming here to read many times, but I know I have to feel connection with others and that can be found here.  It also helps that at times there is some humor between us.  When we can do that in this safe place it feels so real compared to the face I wear for the world.  Even being able to say to someone I haven't idea what I could offer at least makes me feel I still have some feeling for others.  When others rally for me it is a true gift.  That if what we can give each over here.  Gifts that we really need, not what the outside thinks we do.

56 minutes ago, mittam99 said:

Many married people lose their spouse. But not all of them were soul mates, like all of us were. People in loveless or average marriages aren't here in this forum. I can say almost without question that everyone here was madly in love with the one who passed away.

I think that is absolutely true.  My sister in law loved her husband, but always told me theirs was a marriage not of the soul.  She had her grief, but moved on quickly.  My counselor tells me of lights who just need help to get thru adapting and they are off to new lives.  What we have is coldly termed 'complicated grief' which to me means it is something that we will live forever because of that intensity.  

Las for things in the fridge, freezer and cubards, I have only thrown away things that have turned into evil shadows of what they were.  A bottle of cranberry juice and his last bottle of wine still stay.  It's hard enough seeing all that had to discarded.  Just a little something that is familiar makes opening the door a bit less painful.  

[brat#2]

All put so well by everyone, as Gwen said, I read all of your posts and sometimes cry, sometimes laugh and am grateful that someone else has said exactly how I feel.

[TerriL]

Madly, truly, deeply and endlessly. That is exactly how much I love my husband. What Gwen said about the cold term "complicated grief" (as if someone actually came up with a "grief report card") and also about leaving items in the fridge. I still have the iced tea I made for my husband a couple of weeks before he passed away. I dare not look into it, as I'm not sure what life forms could be taking root in there now, but I don't drink iced tea myself and therefore, it stays for now. And the "experts" would probably not label me---yet---with complicated grief only because it hasn't been that long since Paul died, but I know my grief is complicated by the anxiety disorder I already had and have had for most of my life. But, I don't quite understand how you are supposed to get over the loss of a person who was the only one whom you wanted to be married to or wanted to be with for life. To realize you will never again look up and see them looking back at you or searching for your face in a crowd, it causes my stomach to knot up even writing that. 

Today started out okay. I talked to Paul's picture this morning. But, after my sister called and I spoke with her, I ended up feeling drained. So angry. I'm afraid I'm getting to the point where I just will not be able to tolerate talking to her any longer. When you feel worse after dealing with a person, is it wise to continue subjecting yourself to it? She actually compared the stress and pain of what I'm going through with the stress she has to deal with on her job, never having it dawn on her that you can always QUIT a job or retire. I can't quit Paul's death. If only I COULD! If only I could say, "Okay, I've had enough of this. He needs to come back now. I quit this." She asks how things are going, I tell her the truth and it's always, "OH, Terri. EVERYONE goes through that sort of thing every day. You aren't unique." and then she proceeds to give a speech (it isn't a conversation because I can never get a word in edge wise) about how wonderfully she deals with the stress in her life and never calls in sick, even though she has Rheumatoid Arthritis and all this other stuff. Then, it isn't long before she launches into how her husband made coffee for her this morning and on and on, ad nauseum... In other words, I have no right to still be grieving after four whole months. I need to pick myself up and "soldier on". Her words, not mine. Of course, the way she and her husband are, it seems a lot more like a business arrangement than a marriage of passion, the way Paul and I were. 

[Margm]

@Terri, my sister practices philosophy on me.  At first it bothered me.  She wants me to go out and go to dinner, go visit with my friends who keep asking.  (My sister is a hermit of her own desire).  Finally, I just ignore her.  I love her, but I am older than her and she has not lived her life to suit me.  She never married, almost once, but could not do it.  She used to be a social worker and now is a college teacher, but our worlds are so different.  We have the same mom and dad.  On that subject, today my sister went to vote back in our home state, where she lives.  She was going to bring home oysters to my mom and crayfish to my daughter.  My mom's "two year old" Alzheimer's brain remembered when her own dad would go to Shreveport from their little country community just to get oysters.  A breakthrough memory.  Anyhow, I really think our sisters are trying to help us, but they don't know how.  How can they know how when they have not faced it, and how can they know how when we don't even know how to help ourselves.  Let it roll off like water off a duck's back.  We can choose our friends, but we cannot choose our relatives.  And, I won't finish that thought.  

[kayc]

Terri, you might want to limit your time with her right now, at least until you feel better able to handle it.  Or confront her with the differences between a stinkin' job and losing a husband.  I'm sorry you're going through that.  

[Margm]

@Terri:  I went back and reread what your sister said to you.  Honestly, my sister was not that bossy with me.  Maybe Kay is right and until she can learn to respect your grief and not compare it to a job, maybe you can brush her off until she takes a hint.  My sister is not married, so I know she does not understand, but she loved Billy like a brother, so she understands my loss, because she has been a part of his life since she was 10 years old, she misses him also.  We never had brothers and sisters, just us, so she has lost a member of her family too.  I have been lucky, my family, they stick by me, sometimes too close, but I am lucky to have them.  .  

[TerriL]

Marg, I'm so glad that your mom was able to share a memory with you, even if for only a short time. That is something I have never had to deal with and would never give advice to anyone on, because caring for someone you love who has Alzheimers has to be one of the single most difficult situations to deal with. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it's like. I know what you mean about sisters trying to help. In my case, my sister is ten years older than I am and I think she feels the need to "fix" me. The problem is, unless someone can work magic and bring Paul back, it can't be fixed. That's the only thing that would fix me right now. Maybe with a little more time, I will be able to allow it to just roll off my back, but for now, I find myself dreading having to talk with her. I tire of telling her something and immediately getting the response that nothing I'm going through is ever as bad as I'm making it out to be. The fact that she has not even come by to see me in person since Paul died hasn't helped the situation. She lives about ten minutes away. She tells me I can come to her house for dinner, but I've turned down her invitations. I have enough to deal with. I do love my sister, but I don't get what seems to be her total lack of compassion. 

Kay, I think I'll do what we were all talking about a few posts back and that is, I will just put on a facade when dealing with my sister and be myself here and in private. (Plus, I'll try to keep the calls on the shorter side.) It's a shame we have to do that, but sometimes when you are in such deep pain, self-preservation needs to be first priority. 

[kayc]

Marg, I have an e-book that helped me when my mom got dementia.  I'll be happy to email it to you if you message me your email address.

[Margm]

Girls, I only babysit my mom when my sister has to go somewhere.  She is on hospice care and someone needs to be with her.  My sister has the caretaker role in this situation.  My daughter stays with her about 20 hours a week when my sister has to teach.  It will end in April.  Education in Louisiana took a hit with the last governor.  My sister is in the worse situation taking care of my mom.  

[Gwenivere]

6 hours ago, TerriL said:

the "experts" would probably not label me---yet---with complicated grief only because it hasn't been that long since Paul died, but I know my grief is complicated by the anxiety disorder I already had and have had for most of my life. 

She actually compared the stress and pain of what I'm going through with the stress she has to deal with on her job, never having it dawn on her that you can always QUIT a job or retire. I can't quit Paul's death. If only I COULD!

Of course, the way she and her husband are, it seems a lot more like a business arrangement than a marriage of passion, the way Paul and I were. 

As Marty said, all grief is complicated.  I believe that from day one.  Sometimes we get respites, but never enough.  I have an anxiety disorder too that really makes this a bigger challenge trying to deal with them both.  At least I have meds fir the anxiety.  No magic pills for the other.

Your sister does sound like she missed out on the compassion gene.  I know that is really hard in you.   This is a time we need all the support we can get.  It's like people trying to tell me they understand because they got divorced.  There is grief in that, but that is a decision made because someone or both want out.  Plus they are still alive.  And they can rekindle.  But to compare the death of a spouse to a job, wow, that's beyond even some of the crazy things said to me.  As I have said before, grief rewrites your address book.  It's sad she doesn't seem to want to be in yours.

Someone recently said (Mitch?) that we are here because we did have those marriages that were truly deep.  Deeper than some others.  Passion was definitely a major part if not the foundation.  So, are we lucky in a twisted way to be here?  I know I wouldn't have wanted a marriage the slightest but less than what it was, despite the hell things are now.  Tho there are times I would give anything to stop the pain.  But the only way to do that is wish I never met Steve.  I have at times.  Sometimes the grief gets so heavy.  I have to accept that part of it too.

 

[TerriL]

Gwen, you absolutely hit the nail on the head. My sister's husband had originally volunteered to help with my finances, too, and cut my lawn. One day, out of the blue, I got a text message from him stating, "You never ask me for financial advice any more. I've been reduced to your lawn man, No more. Please hire a lawn service." End of text. I simply sat on my couch, staring at this text. So, now I pay for someone to cut my lawn, which is fine, since I had never asked my brother in law to cut it in the first place. He would make all sorts of condescending remarks to me about "not getting my anxiety disorder, so I should expect him to get angry with me from time to time" and "don't talk so much, I don't want to hear it, go to a therapist, they get paid for that sort of thing". All I could do was say to myself, "This is my HELP? I'm doomed." Gee, I sound a bit like Charlie Brown there. Haha! Good grief! I think NOT. Nothing good about it at all, except, as you said, it rewrites your address book. I love the way you put that. It does make me wonder if he volunteered to offer "financial help" just to get peek inside my bank account and see how much I have. That's another thing we have to watch out for---the people who see someone in an extremely vulnerable position and swoop in like the vultures they are. I was taken for two-thousand dollars by a lawyer I discovered I didn't really need after all. Expensive lesson, but lesson learned. I finally fired him when he began asking for MORE money. All I got out of that ordeal was a notarized piece of paper. Most expensive notary on the planet. 

I have also wrestled with those feelings of knowing that if Paul and I had never found each other or had the kind of love and marriage that we did, I'd be free of this pain. However, I know deep in my heart that I would never trade one moment I had with him, not even the less than stellar ones. That's what I loved about that video with the late Darcie Sims, may she rest in peace. She counsels people to not allow your loved one's legacy to be their loss, for the loss happened in the blink of an eye. She said to concentrate on all that came before. All the time you did have with that person. Let THAT be their legacy. Remember and pay tribute to the love, not the loss. That affected me in such a profound way. My neighbor, the wife, who lives next door to me has never had a great marriage. Her husband has always been a real jerk to her and doesn't appreciate anything she does for him. He has recently been suffering from many health issues and she told me that she knows it's a matter of time before he goes and she'll feel grief, since she does love him. But, she also said her overwhelming feeling will most likely be one of relief. No more constant verbal abuse or arguing, etc. She witnessed on a daily basis the kind of relationship Paul and I had and she tried to comfort me as best as she could, but she said she knew my pain was beyond what she could even imagine. She's right.

[TerriL]

Marg, I do feel for your sister in that regard then. Being a caretaker is so difficult and draining, especially when you know they aren't going to recover. It's a totally different feeling than when you are helping them heal. As is usually the case, the situation with my family is a lifetime in the making, much of it having to do with our parents, too, and very complicated. My sister needs to be the center of attention and prefers an audience (her co-workers, friends, any person she wants to impress. etc.). In the cases where she has an audience, she may act a bit differently, but when it's just the two of us, and there is no one to impress, she's herself. She was that way when my mother died, as well. When my mom was in the hospital (where my sister works), my sister was there visiting every day, talking with the doctors and nurses, etc. When my mom came home on Hospice care, my sister never came by until the day before my mom finally passed away. No doctors there to impress and much physical work to be done. My sister and her husband, at one point, took a trip to the Florida Keys to go fishing, while I helped my father take care of my mom at home. My husband never cared that much for my sister and her husband either. He would tell me that he felt my sister was a phony. I'm almost thinking she could have one of those "narcissistic personality disorders", but I'm not professional therapist. 

[Margm]

Thanks Terri.  I feel for my sister too.  I am selfish enough that right now I cannot take care of my mother.  She (sister) is a "know it all" and that is because she really does know it all.  But, she is not a grandstander.  My daughter is though.  But, that is because of her mental problems.  Right now, my sister is the mother and she considers my mom the two-year-old child she never had.  When my mom passes (and she probably will outlive all of us), I will feel the most guilt and my sister will feel the most grief.  Then the problem will be taking care of my sister, so if I am still around, that will be me.  She is as cantankerous as my dad was, so that will be a problem.  We do what we can, and sometimes we do things we did not think we could do, and that is what we all do every day.  Making it through one more day.

[kayc]

Terri, all I can say (in response to BIL/lawnmowing/financial services) is WOW!  I'd rather pay someone to mow my lawn!  

Don't feel bad about getting hit for $2,000, I got hit for $50,000...we're very vulnerable when we lose our spouse and the vultures start circling immediately, they smell their prey from far off!

[Margm]

Kay is so right, but the bad thing is, sometimes you can call the vultures by name, and you realize you have a vulture bloodline when all the time you thought you were a dove.

[mittam99]

I don't know I got here...

It's been one year since my perfect and wonderful wife Tammy passed away, suddenly. It doesn't seem possible that it's been a year. Everything that happened that day is so vividly etched on my brain it feels like it just happened. Three hundred sixty five (well 366 due to leap year) days  and I'm still here. Not that I don't want to be here... I just am amazed how fast that time passed.  I realize that this is probably how life will be from here out. Taking it one day at a time, doing the best I can and wishing my Tammy was still here. Hurting when I think about how she suffered in life and how of all people she only deserved the best.

This  "new" life without my bride is basically horrible. It's meaningless day to day drudgery. It's tears flowing and pain. It's memories and dreams of what once was and what I wish it still was. I have no really close friends, no relatives that offer emotional support. I'm on my own and trying to cope with a life without Tammy's kisses and hugs.

I honestly think I've gotten more comfort from this forum than virtually anything else. Definitely an improvement over my grief counselor (she just wasn't all that helpful). Marty and the members here have been extremely kind and understanding and I am grateful a place like this exists for those of us overwhelmed with complicated grief. 

It was tough, but I actually worked today. In some ways it was better than sitting at home in agony. 

Mitch