I have plunged back into the cold, dark, hopeless place I felt buried in the first few weeks/months after Dave died. I’ve been struggling to eat, sleep, clean up after myself, and find comfort in anything. Everything feels like sandpaper against raw nerve endings. I can’t stand to be alone. I need help. I’ve reached out. I’ve especially sought out…
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Not Enough
Since my husband’s suicide in July 2010, I have struggled with feeling likeI was not enough. I was not enough to keep my husband alive. I have felt that if I was a better friend, a better wife, a better support system, my husband would still be alive.Realizing that sometimes love is NOT enough.. is devastating. What happened to all…
Clarity
“Peace and clarity is not to be learned by flight from the world, or by running away from things, or by turning solitary and going apart from the world. Rather, we must learn an inner solitude wherever or with whomsoever we may be.” -Meister EckhartIt keeps happening. Just when I feel that I not only have seen and entered the light from…
Let the New Life Begin
So much has happened in such a small amount of time that my head is spinning even as I type. I now live in downtown Austin with cars and people and dog walking and concrete which, for a country boy, is quite the change. I have a new job that’s challenging, engaging and, quite frankly, fun. Life is completely different than just a few weeks…
Home Sweet Home
Well, things around here never seem to quite slow down. And lately, in particular, they’ve sped up into super speed! Steve accepted a new job position in Parkersburg, West Virginia. Oh, and we move next week! We are taking a ride on the crazy train and loving every minute of it. Well….almost every minute.While I am thrilled for this new…
Going Back To My “Before” ……
…… and explaining my “After”. This past weekend I went back to my home town for a party. It was a mini-reunion of sorts. Several people from our high school class came, as well as others from a couple of other years …… and several spouses. I loved high school …… most of it anyway.. I don’t know any teenager who loves all of it.
The fury
After three-and-a-half years, I can cope with most days. Some days are sad. Some days are just part of the grey melange I seem to be constantly wading through. Some days are good (not great – nothing is great). And some days I am Just Furious. But I don’t know where to direct this fury…I am furious that my life is not what I worked so hard…
Far Away
I dreamed of Dave the other night. He was alive, now. It had all been a trick. He had actually survived the heart failure and somehow I hadn’t known all this time. He was solid and real, but very changed after his near death experience and I was so relieved that he had survived. The Dave I knew was Mr. Practicality. In his opinion tattoos were…
3 Year Anniversary
Last week I passed the 3 year sadiversary of my husband’s suicide. I wanted to share some pieces about what I have been thinking about and have learned about grief and myself. That having self awareness is a must have. Having fear of what the anniversaries will do to me is a good reminder to take care of myself. Remembering the good times,…
Living For
“If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for.” What is your answer? Don’t try to categorize into a million things. What are the hand full of basics? For life? For you?For me, what I’m living for is love, peace, and joy. (And the ability make it sound like…
Rent-A-Human
I am nowhere near ready to start “dating” again, or “getting myself out there” again, or fall in love again. I am still madly and deeply in love with my dead husband, and I am just not in that place where it feels right to invite someone new into this life with me. Not now. Not yet. I don’t know when. However, there is something that I do want.
The Bubble
My body is already preparing for the 3 year “sadiversary.” It seems this has started a lot sooner this year. I can feel it in my heart, the tears are falling often again. My physical grief always starts in the arches of my feet and the palms of my hands. From there it spreads to my joints, and eventually, my brain. It takes me a while to…