I paused because, for the briefest of moments, Mike died all over again .
Once upon a time, Mike had stood in this very same room.
He used to take up space in the world.
And, he had a place in our lives.
I miss this place in time when Mike was real.
I imagine I always will…
Life is for the living.
Mike had his life.
And, now I need to focus on mine.
Only he died in 2016.
It would be a tragedy if I buried myself too.
There is a giant void that lives in my chest. This isn’t a real thing; but, nonetheless, there seems to be a huge, heavy, invisible emptiness seems to take up all the room in my lungs. It feels like there is not enough space for air inside me. For the last 3.9 years my breath feels shallow. And, really, so does my life.
I am tired of being sad.
I am emotionally exhausted because I feel everything so deeply; and, also I feel nothing at the same time.
I am not sure which is worse.
Since Mike died, I feel every thing in color, but I am living in grey. I know that it is a tragedy to live like this, but I do not know how to change it. I just don’t feel joy anymore. Yes, I have fleeting moments of happiness; but nothing, not one damn thing has been lasting. I just can’t seem to find a way to remain tethered in the present moment long enough to experience genuine joy. I wonder if I will ever be capable of this again.
For me, my “grief work” is not so much about escaping grief (I know that is not possible); but, rather, it is about intentionally striving to reenter life. I am a Lover of Life. Each week I write to you, I am not writing about grief per sae. Nope. I am writing to you about LIFE. As a writer, I am encouraging you to live your best life. And, sure I know that it is easier said than done, but for me it is not optional because the alternative is far too bleak.
For three years, I steeped myself in my own grief. I became one with my grief; and, now, with nearly four years practice as Mike’s widow, I do not carry my grief in my arms anymore. My grief does not completely over take me any longer. My grief is still there, but it is not visible now. And, I assure you that this is big progress. I worked hard to get to this place.
When I think about our Wedding Anniversary I feel a bunch of nothing really. Where there should be joy and happiness there is just a huge void. Where there should be happy memories of “the best day ever”, there is nothing. I have nothing to recall because our Wedding day never came to be. So, I just sit with the nothingness that it is. The nothingness of our special day quietly blends into the nothingness that Mike has become. It is sad. Beyond sad really. It is tragic and it hurts. But, I will be “okay”. I have lived through this Anniversary date twice before.
I think, at best, I will rebuilt a remarkable life; but while I live this beautiful new life, I know that a part of me will always be searching for the woman I used to be. I am on the look out for the woman who was filled with excitement about the future she was going to spend with Mike. I miss this person I once was. I miss her so very much. Lately, my grief has evolved into a grief of my own. Now, I spend a great deal of time mourning the woman I used to be; and, concurrently, I mourn for the woman I could have been if he did not die so unexpectedly.
Since he died,
I’ve been scared a lot because I have to do everything on my own.
Since he died,
I’ve been forced to do a hell of a lot more than simply watching movies alone.
I’ve been forced to life alone.
And, this is far from easy.
I felt sad when I left the dealership as the owner of a new car. I knew I was supposed to feel happy. I mean they congratulated me on my purchase. Apparently this was big stuff. Purchasing a vehicle is supposed to be a big deal. But, I felt a bunch of nothing. Most people celebrate the purchase of something new. But, I didn’t feel particularly celebratory or happy. Instead, I felt the familiar emptiness that has lived inside me since he died. Most “normal” people would be sick from the lack of feelings I had; but I am used to feeling this heavy numbness. Being without feeling is normal for me; and, for this reason, I just carried on. I mindlessly drove…
For me, when things don’t go right, everything begins to intertwine with his absence. Or more to the point, my aloneness.
Now, at 3.8 years, my grief is not just about Mike. It’s not that I don’t miss him now, I do. I miss him endlessly. I say “I miss you Mike” many, many times each day. But, now the uncertainty surrounding my future is what really gets to me. My focus is on me and not simply surviving his death. I have done this. I have survived Mike dying. And, now, I am attempting to thrive in the life I am slowly and meticulously recreating from scratch without a recipe to follow. Like all widowed people, I am rebuilding my life and discovering my new self-identity and this is a long and tedious process. But, this process is necessary. It is part of the evolution of grief. Eventually, grief becomes ours – for ourselves. It’s not about my dead spouse anymore… it’s about me. I am the one who is still living. And, you are too.
I’m tired. Life without Mike is not easy. I miss him and I feel like I do not really belong in this world without him. This is an incredibly difficult way to exist. I desperately yearn to feel content again. *Sigh. I have felt displaced for so long now that I am starting to wonder […]
I have discovered that you learn a lot about who you are while you are dating. Dating is much more than it appears to be at face value. Dating really isn’t about whether someone likes you. This simple perspective of love is held by school kids on playgrounds everywhere. But, we are adults. Dating for […]
