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, hurts.
- Sometimes it’s easier to remember the bad times.
- 3 years ago, I never thought I would be writing for a widow blog
- When I was thrown into widowhood, I never thought I would take my experience, and try to help other widows as they start this journey.
- I never thought hearing that someone I don’t even know, died from suicide, would shatter me.
- I never thought that hearing someone had recently become widowed, would send me into “I need to run to this person. Hug this person. Wipe their tears.” Even when it’s a complete stranger.
- I have learned (Well sometimes I still doubt this) that the suicide of my husband, will not actually kill me. But there will be days that I wish it had killed me.
- That every year, shortly before the sadiversary, I fall into the anger stage. As much as I hate the anger stage, it’s okay. At least I know now that come the next sadiversary, anger will be there waiting for me.
- I have learned who my true friends and family are. Friends come and go. I come and go. Some of my friends, were only my friends when my husband was alive and healthy.. but they don’t want to be friends with the – widowed Melinda. Some of my best friends are widows.. and because of my husband’s death, I know them and cherish them. That’s all okay. I need to be surrounded by people that love me and support me, not people that suck the life out of me.
- That it’s okay to tell someone they are toxic to me, and I don’t want them in my life.
- 3 years later, I still can’t think of the time the detectives came to my door and told me they found my husband’s body. That memory will always be a huge trigger, that immediately leaves me without any air in my lungs and buckets of tears flowing down my face.
- My poor mom was there to hold me the detectives told me my husband was deceased. I will always wonder how painful that was for my mom.. to know she just lost a son, and seeing her daughter go complete ape shit.
- I’ll never forget shortly after the detectives came, my brother coming to my house. Seeing my brother made me completely lose it again. To where I could only hug him, and let out these blood curling cries, that caused my knees to give in under me. A couple months later, my brother told me “I’ve only seen people cry like that in the movies, it was insane!”
- I learned that it’s okay to need medical help for depression and anxiety. If I wasn’t medicated at the 8 month mark, I wouldn’t have lived to write this blog.
- I’ve learned it’s okay to ask for help. I don’t need to do everything by myself.
- I’ve learned that I need to learn how to do things for myself.. so whenever something is broken, I watch my dad fix it, and ask him a billion questions.. so next time I can do it by myself. I’m proud to announce I can mow the lawn, program the sprinkler timer, figure out what is wrong with a breaker and fix sprinklers, all by myself. I know how to shut off the water, when a broken pipe is flooding my neighbor’s basement (I learned that through pure panic and error).
- I’ve learned that the 27th of every month, will always be a trigger. Even if Seth didn’t die this 27th, he died on the 27th of July, and it marks one more month that we have been apart.
- I’ve learned that the 2nd year was worse in some ways then the 1st year.. but I hope I never have to relive the 1st year again.
- I’ve learned that walking into the 3rd year is horribly hard in a different way..
- That checking “widowed” on some type of legal or medical form, will never get easier.. especially at a doctor’s office.
- Through Seth’s death, I gained the “I don’t give a shit” and swearing gene.
- I’ve learned that I can’t fight or push off grief. I have to sit with it and let it run it’s course. If I don’t, it will be back.. with a vengeance.
- I’ve learned at the end of the day, all I have is myself.. And taking care of myself comes before anyone or anything.
Looking back over the last three anniversaries of my husband’s death has made me realize..
That the one year anniversary, I didn’t know I was still alive.
At the two year anniversary, I wished I wasn’t alive.
Now just passing the three year anniversary, I am thankful I am alive.