I have been nestled inside the winter for months, it seems. It has been so cold and dark. Even today, at the end of April, spring struggles to gain a grip, the wind and rain overtaking its warm and promising breezes, painting the hilltops white, again, pouring pellets of icy hail onto the ground. This weekend, there are predictions of frost.
Each day, I walk past the newly budding lilacs on my way to the train station, and I kiss them, and tell them to be strong, and reach deep, and find warmth. I so hope the cold will not kill them before they flower.
I have sat inside an inner winter, too. Some days, I am able to look around, and revel in the rainbow coloured tulips and the deep blues and violets of the evening sky. But other days, I cannot reach deep enough to overcome the cold, and the world feels frozen, the wind biting at my fingertips.Read more
It's been a year, nine months, one week and two days since my husband took his life and I'm only now just starting to feeling angry. Even typing that, makes me ill. I'm very much NOT ok with feeling angry.
When he first died, I had a fleeting moment of thinking 'how could he have made this decision for us, without consulting me!?' and then within a split second it was gone - replaced with 'well he was sick. This wasn't my husband, this was his disease. It robbed him of his logic, his understanding of consequences and his ability to make rational decisions. It also robbed him of his ability to ask for help. In that moment, he believed there was no other way.'Read more
I wonder if I'll ever wake up again. Wake up to the point where I feel anything besides numbness or pain or his absence.Read more
Last night, after a tough week, a friend and I treated ourselves to a night out at a local comedy festival to have a few laughs and blow off some steam. We had tickets to see an up-and-coming Australian comedian who has acted in a couple of popular local TV shows and I was really looking forward to seeing her live.
It was great... until she started joking about suicide. My stomach dropped, my face started burning, my throat tightened and my eyes were pricked with tears. I couldn't believe it. There I was trying to forget about being a suicide widow for a night and the topic was being shoved in my face.
I have built my entire life around the fear of loss.
I’ve had a string of losses, in my adult life, perhaps more than most. Each loss dug deeper wounds into my heart. Each loss wove more fear into the sorrow I felt. Each loss added layers of protection to my spirit.
I came to England in a flight from grief, after the loss of my sister and my mother, within a year of each other. Twelve months and two weeks after my mom died, we lost my sister-in-law. All the women in my family. Gone.Read more
Honestly…sometimes the hardest part about writing here each week is figuring out what notto write. I know many of my family and friends read this, so sometimes I try to be careful about revealing any of the darkest parts of my soul. I don’t want to worry them because I am not naturally a gloom and doom type of person. I’m pretty upbeat and positive and mentally quite healthy…but the fact is, it has been a challenging week.Read more
My guy is currently on his way to learn to paraglide. I couldn't go with him because of a prior engagement so I'm waiting to hear that he is back on the ground. I know he's more likely to die in a car crash than on this contraption in the air today, but many things could go wrong. Most likely they won't, but they could. I'll be anxious, but only in the background. The foreground of my brain will be able to function today. I'm not a puddle of tears or anxiety. Hopefully I won't even get a migraine.
Dave was safety man. Safety first was his motto. He didn't take big risks. He never flirted with danger, ever. He didn't have any desire to chase after adrenaline rushes. I didn't have any cause to worry about him. Until I did. Nothing could have kept him safe from myocarditis. I had no inkling that I needed to worry about that. So, even if my warning signs were going off now about paragliding, what reason do I have to listen? I had no warning signs back then. Or they were kaput, who knows. There's just no way to know when tragedy is coming.
I didn't get to write last week... I was with my son in our local children's hospital after he developed an autoimmune thingy.
First while being assessed in emergency after some four hours of the usual waiting and it's 2am, the doctors tell me even though he isn't a typical presentation they suspect something called Kawasaki's Disease, and the biggest concern is if it goes on too long it can cause issues with the coronary artery.
Of course, this heart-issue widow hears with respect to her only child: "this disease is easily treated however you need to know it can cause issues with his heart blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
My life feels surreal.
A year and a half ago things were purring along with a familiar rhythm. My days were kind of predictable. I was married. I had a house. Things to do. People to take care of. Routines. I felt in control.
Ha, laughed the universe.
Now I feel like an alien being..like I was transported to some other planet after Mike died.
A stranger in a strange land.
Some days, I just don't recognize my life. I go through the motions but there is always that weird little panic button flashing at the back of my mind. It's not in full alarm mode anymore, but it's still always there. I spend a lot of time trying to find normalcy in my head. Some new sense of familiarity in my life, my surroundings. New routines. It's not always easy. Mike made me feel safe. I always knew everything was going to be ok when he was around. But he's not around anymore.