Category: grief

I’ve talked before about what the widow perspective has given me.  I want different things and I view the meaning of life differently.   I don’t care about things or money or others opinions.  I want to just live life on my own terms and with my own truth.  I found that I want to enjoy the little things…appreciate the sunsets, long walks, holding hands and hugs.  I want to live the little moments of life and know they are what makes me happy.  I don’t want to be caught up in the grind of it and worry about things that I can not control.  I have found this to be a peaceful way of living.  It felt like I was heading in the right direction.

But what I also found is that this new widow perspective on the world is lonely.  Lonely because not many people see the world in the way that I do.  The fact that the little things don’t matter.  The fact that all I want is to be at peace and surrounded by love.  I want to spend my time being…being on this earth, with people who fill me with love.  I found that I have started to isolate myself from people because I feel as though I am not  understood.  I began to feel alone and scared and a little like maybe I was crazy….maybe there was something wrong with the way I viewed the world or how I was trying to live my life.   I started to second guess my choices, my decisions, my desires.

And then the year I gave myself came to an end and day to day life began again.  I went back to work and started working on building our future once again.  I tried to heal myself and my heart by jumping back into the world in the best way I could.  But it doesn’t work the same anymore.  Not with the new perspective I have after losing Pat.  I can’t live balancing between the new me and the same old world.  I try to fit in with people.  I try to find my place again.  I try to feel safe and comfortable about the future…or even about today.

But life keeps on going no matter how hard you try to slow it down.

And the day to day grind of working, balancing finances and raising three boys on my own began to sit on my shoulders.  It began to weigh me down.  I started worrying about things that are out of my control.  I started worrying about the future and about money and about how I was viewed by others.  All the things I no longer want to worry about.  I felt to feel negativity surrounding me everywhere I went.  I couldn’t escape it and I started to want to run again.  It’s been a while since I have felt like running.

I’ve lost my focus.  I’ve lost my perspective.  I’m losing me.

I don’t even know where to go with this.

I need to go back to what matters to me.  The things that bring me peace and find my center.  For whatever reasons, I have stepped away from those things.  I think I began to think that I totally had this life thing down and I don’t need God’s help anymore or something.  I was doing better when I handed it over to him and led with my heart.  Trying to figure it all out on my own has left me off kilter.  I need to leave it in God’s hands and follow my heart.  I need to listen to my gut and go with the flow again.  In order to do that I need to take the time I need again.  I need to walk.  I need to write.  I need to read.  And I need to  be…truly be with myself.  I need a break.

I had been giving myself time every month or so to get away from it all.  To disconnect and step away from the solo parenting and all that comes with it.  I haven’t done that for some time and I see now that it is adding to the breakdown of me.  Finding that time is difficult though.  Finding the frame of mind to let go and not feel selfish or guilty for taking care of me is difficult.  But it is needed.  For all of us.

I need to do this now before I completely lose my perspective and lost my way.  I have always said I want to live this life in honor of Pat.  He would do anything to live and I don’t want to take my opportunity at life for granted.  I want to soak it up and feel it all.

So I will give myself this moment to feel sorry for myself for letting myself get off course and then I am going to yet again, pick myself up, dust myself off and get back on track.

I am still here for a reason and I want and need to continue living with an open heart and open mind.  The path is there for me…I just need to keep going without putting up a fight.

I am feeling the aches and pains similar to after you work out for the first time in a long time.  But the workout isn’t one on the body, but instead it is on the mind, heart, soul and spirit.  I am feeling beat up, tired and lacking any desire to continue.   I don’t feel like I have the energy to keep fighting the fight day in and day out.  

I am using all my energy to keep the boys on track with their school work and their lives.  I am using my energy keeping the household running, and making sure the money doesn’t run out.  I am wasting my energy on trying to come across like I’ve got this, when most days, I am barely keeping my head above water.

My energy is all used up.

Deep down I want to keep pushing on.   I know that things are better than they were, and I know they are way better than they could have been, and I also know that they will keep getting better.   But the day-to-day grind of life has caught up with me again and I have found myself someplace I haven’t been before.  I am in a place where I don’t want to keep trying to make a better new life for myself.  I don’t have the energy to keep pushing on, and so I just want to settle with whatever comes my way and just get through this life.

I know this sounds horrible and even as I hear myself say it I cringe.  But I honestly am at that point where I am tired of trying.

I don’t think people understand all that becoming a widow means.  People know that you lost your spouse, your partner in life, but there is so much more that is taken from us.  A sense of security, dreams and plans for the future, your identity, your confidant, your sense of peace and comfort are all taken.  For me, I feel like I lost everything.  I lost my center and my touchstone.    I lost my confidence, my focus, and my drive.

But, I gained strength and perseverance.  That is for sure.  I have gotten up so many times after being knocked down, but this time I just want to stay down.  I don’t want to keep up the battle for this new and better life which I desire.  I know I want it, I just don’t feel like going after it anymore.  It is so much harder than I make it sound.  It is so much harder than I thought it was going to be.  I want to be better and in a better place so badly, but time goes so slowly during the healing process and there is no magical end date.

And what I have found is that this healing is a total inside job.  My spirit and soul can only be healed by me. No other person can fix this problem; if that is what you want to call it.  I have people in my life who care about me and I care about them.  I have found people who make me happy again and want to try again.  But this doesn’t change the damage to my spirit.  They don’t make anything heal faster or take away my pain from losing Pat.  They give me a sense of hope for the future.  Hope that I can be happy again and I can be loved again and I can love again.   There is always hope for that and I didn’t think that was possible.  I am thankful for that and for them.  But that doesn’t change where I am in my healing process.  This is on me.  I have to find a way out of it.

When I write I am usually writing to myself trying to convince myself that I am going to get through this.  That I am doing okay.  I write with a positive outlook towards my future in order to push myself to keep going.  I know all the right words to say and I know all the things I need to do in order to not fall into the fit of despair again.  My brain gets it….it’s my heart, and I guess my soul, that is still struggling with finding my way.  My brain is ready to jump in and get things going, but the rest of me is still sitting on the sidelines wishing to play again and at the same time, secretly thankful I am not really in the game right now.

So here I am.  I am tired all the time.  A tired that sleep can not fix.  I don’t have the answer or the solution to where I am at and that scares me.  I am not sure of what to do next or how to get out of this one.  I am in unchartered territory with the feelings I am having.  Perhaps this is all part of the healing process, and I will wake up tomorrow with all the answers.  For now I will continue to leave it in God’s hands and pray that I can be patient and wait and see what he has planned for me.

Everyone needs a reason to get out of bed.  A reason to keep going.  A knowing that there is purpose in their life and meaning to what they do.  This is true for everyone.  For a widow, this need isn’t just a desire to feel fulfilled, it is literally their life.  In the beginning of this grief process, my  kids were my reason to get out of bed.  I was lucky to have them.  I have said it before, they saved me.  If it wasn’t for them I am not sure I would be here today, because I honestly didn’t see the point in the beginning.  I totally understood the dying of a broken heart cliché.  But I survived.  My boys gave me a reason to keep going.  I got out of bed every morning to get them off to school…if you are unaware, this is a big feat for a widow.  Your bed is a safe place where you can be at peace in your pain.  Your safety net to hide away from the world.  So getting out of that place is difficult, sometimes for days.
But I am wrapping up my sophomore year in widowhood and things have changed.  I don’t need to remind myself to get up or take a shower or do what ever it is that needs to be done.  I am up and living somewhat of a normal routine.  Finding a reason to get out of bed isn’t literal anymore.  It’s now the bed of my grief.  It’s the bed of feeling lost and alone.  It’s the bed of not knowing where to turn.  It’s my bed of which I have made to help protect my heart and soul.

This is the bed that I need help to get out of and stay out of, though there are days I am thankful I have that bed to retreat to. It protects me from the world, from my mind, from being hurt beyond repair.  But I need something to push me forward into life.  I am living in the sense that I am out and about and socializing and not hiding in my closet crying anymore, but I am yet to truly start living.  I know it is me who is holding me back from jumping out and living again because I know I have that passion…  That driving force to come at the world screaming here I am… bring it on.   I catch glimpses of this passion every now and then and I get that overwhelming feeling of calm and peace…that my world is going to be alright.

I think, for me, that I need this passion, or reason to keep going in order to help myself fully heal.  It is something to focus on that is bigger than me.  Something I can dive into and know I am doing something to better myself or the world.  People can do this in different ways.   There are people who exercise, which is an amazing way to help yourself heal..body, mind and soul.  There are people who dive into their work, their family, a home project…whatever…for me I write. I write about my pain.  I write about my healing.  I write about my plans, my dreams, my disappointments.  I write to help others.  I honestly write to help me.   I am still writing the book I want to write…perhaps some day you will be able to read it.  I just simply love to write.  It helps me to clear my mind.  It helps me to focus and figure out the nonsense in my head.  I am lucky.  I have found a reason to get out of bed.  Now to just keep it going and make it a passion to drive me further along my journey. There is still so much for me to figure out.

We all need to find our passion, widow or not.  For me it took widowhood to truly take the time to figure me out and learn about my passions.  I guess I had to be stripped away of everything I had in order to see the light and know why I was put on this earth.  To find my purpose.  To find my center.  When everything that matters to you is taken away, your world becomes covered in fog, a fog that blocks out the world and all the happiness in it.  But it’s when that fog begins to lift and you can begin to see again that you truly learn what is important in this life.  That is where the work begins in order to live again.  We survived the initial impact and assessed the collateral damage.  We realize we are still here for a reason.  Now it is our job to figure out what that reason truly is.  What is your reason for getting out of that bed?

I am not very good at expressing myself with the spoken word.  I have a hard time telling people what I am thinking or feeling..maybe because I don’t want to see the look on their face when  I say it, or I simply don’t want to be judged.  I’m just not good at it.  So instead of saying what I want to say or express, I shove everything down inside and deal with it.  If it’s not something I can resolve in that moment, down it goes.  I shove my thoughts, I shove my feelings…I keep them inside me.  They are mine.  They are apart of my story and a part of my pain.  I try to keep them there because maybe they are deal breakers for people.  Maybe what I want or need is impossible for me to receive.  Maybe asking for it, or saying it out loud makes the thoughts and feelings real and once they are said, they can’t be taken back.  And so out of fear of disappointment, or more pain, I keep it inside of me.

But sometimes, someone says something that acts as a release to the pressure valve inside of me.  Something simple can be said or done, and it triggers emotions, thoughts and feelings that have been locked up inside of me and they come pouring out.   Sometimes they come spewing out at people.  And then I come across as unstable, or crazy or a girls favorite one…hormonal.  When none of this is the truth.  The truth is the release.  My truth is the result of the trigger.  I finally say what was needed to be said.  The thoughts come out about what I want, need or feel without any concern for anyone.

Now, I know this is not the appropriate way to express oneself.  I should be open and honest and have dialogue about my feelings with those in my life.  But the truth is, people say they want this until what is being is said is not wanted to be heard.  And what is talk anyway.  People can say anything.  That doesn’t mean it is true or will ever happen.  People have said so much since Pat died, and how much of that has materialized in my life….pretty damn close to zero.

But that’s not what I’m talking about today.

What am I talking about today?  I am talking about me and my stuffing of feelings.  People see me and think I am doing good.  I am doing good.  I am getting by and finding my way.  I am figuring out being a solo parent, though most days I suck at it.  I am trying to start a new life for myself, but I keep hitting bumps in the road.  I suppose this is normal for anyone.  But sometimes my bumps are people who keep jumping in my way.  Putting their grief, their beliefs on my grief, and their judgment in my pathway.  I honestly don’t give a shit what people think about me and what I am doing….I did for a while, but everyone has a judgment in their mind and none of it changes my reality.  So I don’t care anymore.  I am who I am and I am making the best decisions for me based on my experiences…just like everyone else.

But people feel the need to interject their pain and sorrow and thoughts on how I must be doing or feeling into my life.  I am not a rude person.  I am not intentionally cruel or disrespectful.  I will listen and I will try to make a nice comment in response, but I don’t want to.  I stuff my anger or my annoyance right on down with everything else. Everything I should say or do gets shoved down.  I let myself settle sometimes by doing this.  I think I allow myself to think I don’t deserve all that I want or need or that I am asking too  much from people.  And therefore instead of saying it, I stuff it.  I’m not sure about that one, but it makes sense in this moment.

When the release of these feelings and emotions happen my brain goes into overdrive about what I am doing in my life and the decisions I have made up until this point.  I start thinking about whether not I am truly working for what I want out of life.  I think in general I am, but I think I may have a few priorities out of whack.  I may be putting too much focus on one portion of my life and not enough on others, that in the end may be more important and lasting.  I have been putting a lot of focus on one part of my  life lately..  I think I have been trying to make it more important than it truly is.  It can’t be my  end all be all.  It isn’t a sure thing and if I put all my hopes there I may find even more pain.  I need to find some balances with what I want out of life, because if there is nothing else I have learned in the past few years, I have learned that nothing is guaranteed.

So I am sure I will continue stuffing my feelings and emotions, but with each new release of the pain I am learning about me and my path.  Maybe the things I learn are really just lessons I need to learn and I’m simply not ready to hear the message at the time it is received and so I stuff it until a later date.  A date where I am able to hear the truth and see what I must learn.  Maybe I am simply trying to find a positive out of the pain I hold inside.

From the moment Pat died, my life was changed completely.  I have talked a lot about how I have changed from his death, and everything in my world has changed from his death, but what I find amazing is that even time has changed for me.  This week marks the beginning of the new year from the stand point of every day time.  2016 rolls out and we all ring in 2017.  We take new years eve to reflect on this past year and all that has happened and we look towards the coming year with hope and great expectations.  We make new years resolutions and set new goals for ourselves.  It’s like the stroke of midnight is a reset button for us.  A time to see where we have been and make the changes we want to make in our lives.

I see it different.

After Pat died, my annual clock shifted to April 5.  That is my mark of the new year.  This date is when I reflect on where I have been in the past year and I look forward to the next year.  It is the day that I see that  I have survived another year without him.  I have managed to keep on breathing another year without him.  And with that, I look to the next year with hope for more healing and more peace.

I know the calendar shows a new year beginning on Sunday, but to me it is still the second year without Pat.  I haven’t quite made it into my new year.  My timeline is different now…just like so much of my life is different now.

So though I like to celebrate new years eve and watch the crystal ball drop in times square at midnight….I know in my heart that I am still trying to live this second year the best I can.  Come April I will reflect on how far I have come without Pat by my side and I will look into the third year with hope and determination for a better life for myself and the boys.