Category: losing matt

and he died six weeks ago

My husband (his name was Matt) was the only other person I’ve let read this blog. He’s gone now – stuck a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out – and I’m again blogging for myself because I need to get it out but am starting to feel so repetitive and annoying on my other blog.

People are such a let down. Matt let me down. My friends and family have stopped calling and writing. Matt’s family seems to have gone back to normal – except his brother (bless him). I’m sure Matt’s parents don’t feel normal yet, and I know them well enough to know that I shouldn’t expect them to always reach out to me. But… I am still reeling from this sudden and 100% unwelcome life change, and I am nowhere near back to “normal.” I don’t think “normal” will ever be the same for me, anyway. Lately I spend the evenings drinking with Ryan, or watching TV, which is typical enough but not nearly as enjoyable as it used to be. I get restless and lonely, even with Ryan sitting on the other couch. I crave human contact. I hate only having the cats and my blankets to keep me warm.

My LIFE WAS MATT. Maybe it shouldn’t have been…but I did everything with and for him, pretty much. I did a lot for me because he didn’t care (e.g. cleaning the house), but he was always around to keep me company and remind me that he loved me. I was so happy with him. Maybe I acted foolishly, I don’t know; I do know that I don’t regret any of my time spent with Matt. All I regret is not being able to spend more time with him.

I miss him just as much as I did 6 weeks ago (OK, 5 weeks and 6 days). I feel like a broken record, which I probably shouldn’t let affect me, but it has been anyway. I know I’m surviving, I’m healing, I’m still alive and moving every day. I can’t believe that’s the most positive thing that I can come up with right now.

Jot

I’ve noticed that I’m learning to accept all of this in my life. It’s not as hard as it had been – not as hard as frequently, anyway. I haven’t asked “why” as much, and I haven’t been fighting guilt or what-ifs as much. I still do – just not necessarily daily.

But I still miss Matt as deeply as I did that first week. I’m glad that I’m learning to accept it, but that gladness doesn’t hold much of a light to my aching just to be with Matt again.

Just musing….

So I’m just reading through Without, start to finish, and I’m about half way through now.  A lot of the poems are about his last days with his wife as she was dying from cancer, and he talks a lot about how they spent those days.  It’s such a different scenario than mine, but has all the same underlying themes and emotions.  It makes me think about how brave he was to remember all of that and write about it at such length; it’s so difficult for me to spent almost any length of time thinking about all of my memories with Matt.  I wrote out a bunch in my (paper) journal (plog?) and a part of me wanted to keep going, but I kept having to stop because I was crying.  But I’ll go back to it.  I don’t want to lose those memories.

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Another poem, sorry

I don’t have anything particular to write at the moment, but read this poem last night and really liked it.  It’s also from Without by Donald Hall.

Air Shatters in the Car’s Small Room

 

Distracting myself

on the recliner between

Jane’s hospital bed

and window, in this blue

room where we endure,

I set syllables

into prosy lines.

William Butler Yeats

denounced with passion

“the poetry of

passive suffering.”

Friends and strangers

write letters speaking

of courage or strength.

What else could we do

except what we do?

Should we weep lying

flat?  We do.  Sometimes,

driving the Honda

with its windows closed

in beginning autumn

from the low motel

to Jane’s bed, I scream

and keep on screaming.

Poem

On second thought, this is a stanza from the poem “Her Long Illness” by Donald Hall.  This one has resonated with me the most so far. 

 

     He hovered beside Jane’s bed,

solicitous: “What can I do?”

     It must have been unbearable

while she suffered her private hurts

     to see his worried face

looming above her, always anxious to do

     something when there was

exactly nothing to do.  Inside him,

     some four-year-old

understood that if he was good — thoughtful,

     considerate, beyond

reproach, perfect — she would not leave him.

The sun is out this morning….

I felt a little better when I woke up this morning and saw blue sky (also I went to bed earlier than has been the norm for the last month, so that might have helped too).  Last night’s bath was nice, and watching Babette’s Feast was too.  Ryan was there all evening so I didn’t do much straightening up, but I’ve done a pretty damned good job of keeping the house clean lately.  It’s not spotless, but it’s SO MUCH BETTER than it could be.

So I have a counselling appointment tonight.  I’m nervous, but maybe a little bit excited.  Not very excited though.  But even if I don’t like her and don’t go back to see her, it will probably still be good for me.  I’m not very good at talking.  As much as I am dreading this, I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for Matt.  I really can’t.  I’ve come to realize over this last month (plus) that I really had no idea what Matt was feeling.  I knew that I didn’t have much of a clue and I would try and try to get him to open up and tell me.  Sometimes he would, most of the time he wouldn’t.  But even the times that he would open up…I just didn’t have any past experience that helped me in any way to understand what and how he was feeling.  I didn’t know.  I feel like I could have been more supportive if I had been able to understand more.  I know there’s nothing I really could have done about that, but it’s just another “what if.” 

All my regrets concerning Matt have to do with not being able to spend enough time with him.  I guess it could be worse.

This evening

I get off work in 30 minutes and have been trying to think of something that I can do tonight that will help me feel better.  I think I’m going to straighten up around the house, then take a bath (ahhhh), then put on Babette’s Feast and do some crafting and/or drawing.  Sounds like a pleasant-enough evening, eh?  It makes me sad that Matt won’t be around for any of it (except as he is inside of me, which I’m struggling to understand and actualize… I guess).  But he won’t be there, and I’ll be alright without him.  It hurts me to say so, but it’s the bittersweet truth.  (More bitter right now but the sweet will come, I’m trusting.)

In other news, I can cross my legs under my desk now.  And I can buckle my belt a notch tighter.  Talk about bittersweet.

Thanks to those of you who have upped the comments here – it makes me feel good to have feedback, even if it’s just one line. 

Monday, woo hoo!

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? 

In lieu of texting Matt

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. 

And now it’s been a month (finally? already?)

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.