I hate not being able to do anything to fix this or make it better. It’s like all I can do is sit here and soak it all in, and it’s not fun.
I’ve been drawing pictures of Matt. I don’t know if it’s beneficial or just making me more inclined to start crying, but I guess I’m “enjoying” it because I keep doing it. I miss his face so much. Oh my god.
I just want the days to pass quickly so that maybe a better time will come, but the time is going so slowly. I always wanted time to slow down when Matt and I were together because I never got tired of being around him, but it flew by then. I guess I’ll look back on the happy memories fondly at some point, but now they just make my whole body ache. I’m trying not to feel hopeless but some hours are harder than others.
I miss my other half like I had some limbs amputated. It’s so, so wrong and it hurts.
Over at Matt’s aunt’s house with family. It’s nice to have all of these people around and I’m trying to let myself soak in the love from everyone. It’s…good, but hard because everything is hard. Today has actually been slightly better than yesterday but I’m still very much an emotional roller coaster. I miss my husband so so badly.
I am continuing to fight guilt. I KNOW that I did all I could. I know that Matt knew that I love him, whether he was mentally able to accept that or not. One of our most recent conversations about his depression was a few weeks ago and I told him that it was okay for him to let himself be loved by me – because he knew that I love him. He started crying. I am so sorry that I couldn’t do anything else. Even though it was the disease and nothing that I could control anyway.
I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t dragged my feet so much when he wanted to focus on exercise. I had no idea how important it was to him then. I wish I had made him exercise once I realized what it meant. There are so many things that I think I should have done differently now. I wish I had woken up earlier on Thursday and made him lunch – maybe I would have seen the gun. Or if I had remembered to stick in that love note I had written for valentines day but left at work. Or if I had gone with him to meet his friend on Wednesday night – the night he “borrowed” the gun – then wouldn’t he still be alive now?
I feel like I could have done more to help prevent this. But the truth is, even if I had been able to help him manage his symptoms (and I know that I did help), I couldn’t cure his disease. Oh how I wish he had been able to keep hanging on, but I am also so glad that he isn’t suffering and in pain anymore. I can’t fathom the pain that he was living with every day. Some days were better I know, but………
Regardless of all of this, my beloved Matt is dead now and will never be coming back to me. And I am trying to accept that fact. I want to DO something to fix all of this. I would do ANYTHING to have Matt back …but that is just not an option. I go from feeling grateful for having family around to just feeling so completely alone and destitute and broken. So completely alone, and destitute, and broken.
But I can’t deny reality.