Category: grief

There is some sarcasm in that subject line, BTW.

For that matter, there’s some sarcasm in that first line there.  But at any rate, it’s Monday, again, and I’m at work.  Again.  I never noticed what a drag this really is before.  Or rather, I did notice, but I always had something better to look forward to once I got home. 

The idea of trying to build a new life out of this is so daunting.  This is going to be the hardest thing that I have ever done.  I don’t like reaching out to people – it takes me way outside of my comfort zone.  I know that reaching out is good for you, blah blah blah…I guess I expect people to let me down on some level, and that’s probably at least one reason that I’m hesitant to reach out to new people (or even people I already kind of know).  Hell, Matt let me down.  I know he didn’t mean to and didn’t want to, but he still completely did.  But people will do that, and I’ve certainly let people down before, and I need to learn how to accept that possibility without letting it handicap me socially.

The problem which is nagging me in the back of my head (now matter how much I try to ignore it) is that I was SO HAPPY in my little world with Matt.  If we spent time with people, it was typically just people who we were comfortable around.  If we had to meet new people, at least we were there to help and encourage each other.  Now I have to go back to doing it all on my own.  That sounds a little melodramatic, I know, but really no one should be juding me for being dramatic right now (including myself). 

Ohhhh…..siggghhhhhhh…..I don’t want to do any of this shit. 

But I have to.

So does anyone want to hang out with me tonight? 

Since I can’t text Matt to tell him how immensely I’m missing him, I’m writing it here. 

One of my favorite things EVER was to get home after an unpleasant day at work (or any day at work for that matter) and snuggle on the couch with Matt.  I’ve caught myself trying to look forward to that a couple of times this morning.  It’s so very disappointing to realize that the reason I’m looking forward to being home is because Matt will be there.  Because he won’t be there. 

Oh fuck, I miss him so much.  My cognative mind knows that I’ll be OK eventually.  But that doesn’t really translate into helping me feel better at the moment at all. 

I’m going to have to learn to live in a completely different way.  I’ve been single before – plenty of experience there – but it’s horrible to be forced into this against my will. 

A month ago, around 6:30am, I kissed Matt goodbye for the last time.  Between 11:30 and 12:00, he shot himself after telling me that it was too late and to remember that nothing he was going to do was about me. 

One month.  He was in the hospital last June for almost the same amount of time, only that time I got him back.  This time last year I had no idea what was about to hit me in a couple of months; I can hardly believe that all of this has happened in less than a year.  What is the point of all this pain??  IS there a point?  Why would there be a point?  (This is rhetorical – please don’t answer – I have to find the answer for myself.)  I know that I at least helped to make two people VERY happy by letting them adopt my daughter – that pain ended up being redemptive and gratifying, and time has mended those wounds so well.  From what I read about dealing with my current situation though, I can see that this is not something that I will ever “get over.”  I will always miss Matt.  Sometimes that realization makes me want to slap him for doing this to me, though I know (as much as I can) why he did it and that he held on as long as he could because he loved me and didn’t want to hurt me.

I feel like I’m starting to say the same things here.  I definitely keep thinking the same things over and over, so it seems appropriate that my writing would reflect that.  I hope to be able to move on from these same issues at some point.  Sometimes I feel like this is getting just a little bit easier, but sometimes it’s just as painful as it was a month ago.  I know that’s natural. 

Matt had a friend on FB – I have no idea what her name was – who used to post status updates all the time about how much she missed her late husband.  I felt sorry and a little embarrassed for her – don’t people know that they shouldn’t be airing all their problems on FB?  But now I understand.  When you lose your husband, you lose your best friend and your support system (and so much more).  You have to reach out to people somehow.  And I am so, so lonely – even when there are people around.  I long for physical affection and to know that I’m still special and loved.  People tell me they love me, but it’s hard for me to believe sometimes.  I guess maybe that’s my problem.  It’s such a different love from the kind that Matt gave me though, and I miss that so horribly much.

Sometimes it feels good to get my thoughts into words and organized, but right now it doesn’t feel like it’s helping.  I still feel fuzzy and cloudy and sad and lonely and confused.

I feel annoying disconnected at work.  Everything is the same in my brain, but I don’t have any freedom of expression here (other than writing).  It’s not so bad when I’m busy, but I don’t typically stay busy all day long.  I want this pain to be over, but I know that I have to walk through it before I can heal and I’d like to get on with that.  This is me being impatient though, and trying to fix the problem as quickly as I can.  It’s not realistic.  What IS realistic is that I am walking through this even at work – it’s just more frustrating here.

I found a suicide survivor forum which I joined, Alliance of Hope, and I read something this morning which has been stuck in the back of my head since then.  The writer said something along the lines of, “How am I supposed to ‘move on’?  The person who loved me and protected me and shared my life is gone.  The person who was the reason I cooked meals, kept the house clean, and dressed myself up is gone.  The person who made me coffee and sat with me every day is gone.  How in the world can I move on?”  This really resonates with me.  My brain tries to downplay all the stress I’m under sometimes, but I shouldn’t let it because my life is very much pieces of what it used to be.  I, myself, am broken too.  Even though I had more warning than some people whose loved ones commit suicide, that doesn’t change the fact that it was sudden and unexpected and sometimes I feel like I’ve been through a paper shredder. 

Today, at this moment, I am dealing with the fact that Matt is dead and will never, ever be coming back to me.  I am accepting it.  Further implications have not been acknowledged – I’m just wrapping my head around what I can and not worrying about the rest.  I know this is subject to change at any minute but I’m glad that I can see it this way right now.  It’s so much more painful to not be able to believe that I’ll see Matt again but at the same time not be able to let go. 

For the record, every time any of you comments on my posts, I get excited.  So you should keep doing it/do it more often.  🙂  Even if the feedback isn’t necessarily “helpful” to me, the fact that there IS feedback makes me glad. 

Oh God, have I only been back to work for 7 days? It feels like it has been so much longer than that.

Second Monday back at work.  Monday mornings are the absolute worst.  I just don’t want to keep going.  I mean, I will keep going, but I don’t want to.  I know I have to accept Matt’s suicide and eventually be at peace about it, but I don’t want to do that and also don’t know how.  Sometimes I feel differently, but at this moment on Monday morning, I would give anything to be snuggled in bed with Matt and if I can’t ever have that again then I don’t want anything.

 

I just miss him so…..so……so…..so….so……………..so……..much.  I have a whole new week in front of me and no desire to do anything but sleep (and see Matt, of course). 

 

It’s not like I enjoy being depressed.  An enormous part of my life is suddenly missing though, and I was so happy before.  It’s easy to despair, especially on Monday mornings.  If I can just make it to 12:00 then I can go home and take a nap. 

 

I had a pretty good weekend though – I mean, comparatively good anyway.  It was sad of course, and I had a hard time enjoying the spring-like weather because I have a hard time enjoying anything these days, but the sun and the wind felt good, and it felt good to be around people who like me, too.  On Saturday, I went to Brentwood/Franklin with Helen, Tammy, and Delana.  I ended up with a lacy blue scarf (very pretty), a sea foam colored pitcher and some new wash clothes, and 2 yards of map print fabric to use as the lining on my map quilt.  I wish Matt could see the end product.  I miss him being proud of me.  I miss everything about him. 

 

Ryan and I had brunch with Cathy on Sunday, and that was nice.  Spent most of the rest of Sunday doing laundry and sewing until I ran out of blue thread.  Ended up going to Lowe’s with Ryan and Helen, and then Helen took us to a sushi place for dinner. 

 

It was nice to be around people, whether it made me sad or not.  Sadness is something that I have lived with before, though not to this extent by any stretch of the imagination.  But I can do it again, and hope that sometime beautiful will come from all of this.  Hope.  I guess.

Work is so hard. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I probably will again as well. All I can think about is Matt and losing him, but I can’t dwell on it or let myself feel much because I’m at work. I also can barely concentrate on reading – it just seems so unimportant and shallow. I’ve never had this much trouble getting out of bed and going to work.

Just wanted to complain about work. Maybe I’ll try to read something again.