Some Days You Scream

Some days I cry until I think I'm going to throw up. But no matter how hard I cry, and how long, there's more, I just can't stop.

Some days I have to scream. I mean really scream. In the car, driving home, all alone, I can scream. At the top of my lungs. Horror movie, blood curdling, shrieking.

I'm not sure if it helps at all.

Doesn't hurt to try, though.

Just a Scribble

This morning I picked up a notebook. I was going to jot something down, but found it already had a couple pages filled with Jeff's mind mapping exercises so I stopped to look through them. He liked mind maps, he would make one when he was thinking about a project, or trying to organize his thoughts. He always thought I should use them to sort out my jumbled mess of mind chatter, but I never quite got into them. He thought they were great, though, I find them around now and then. He was always overflowing with ideas, and he'd write them down whenever he had a chance.

This map was focused on our hopes for our future. He had noted things we wanted to have in our lives, and possible steps to achieve that. There were bubbles and lines all over the pages, filled with ideas about things he wanted to learn, and goals he was setting for himself. In the middle of the page he'd scribbled a little drawing in a circle to use as the focal point of the map. It's a simple little sketch, not meant to be artistic or even to be saved forever, it was just there to represent the future us, having succeeded and enjoying the fruits of our labor. In this doodle we've realized our goals. He has his arms raised up in triumph, I have my arms around him. I can even picture the image with us in place of the little scribble figures.

I can feel the joy and fulfillment he intended in the sketch. We've achieved our personal success, we have made our dreams come true. We're standing in front of our dream house, near mountains, beside a lake. He has a little wind turbine and some solar panels too, because he always had this dream we'd have a self sufficient place one day, off the grid. This is our happily ever after, the place where we will grow old together.

These are the hardest things to find, for me. The to-do lists. The dreams. The hopes, in the form of a little sketch, for a future that will never come.

It's completely undone me today.

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

What Gives Us Hope

Hope springs...

This is a bit of a rambly post, but I’ve been tossing some of these things around in my head for a while and this seemed like a good time to pull them together. A blogger I read regularly posts a weekly blog challenge, sometimes a series of questions, sometimes a writing prompt or a challenge to create an image. She has recently experienced the end of a serious relationship, and while it’s not quite the same as what I've experienced, it’s still a painful, difficult loss and there are a few parallels, so I feel for her. One of her friends posted the challenge this week, asking her readers what gave them hope when they were at their lowest point. I've always enjoyed trying to do the challenges on another blog I play with that has to do with online virtual worlds (because that is the topic of her blog), but I wanted to tackle this one over here as well, because it ties in very well with my thoughts these past few months.

 I love my friends ♥

So where am I finding hope? What picks me back up?
Primarily, I think, it's in the support from my friends. I'm not sure I ever fully appreciated just how important my friends, those I know in person and those I have only spoken to online, are to me, and I'm afraid I spent far too much time taking them for granted. I often regret that I've always been reluctant to try to talk to people because I'm always certain that I'm boring, or that I'm bothering them and they'd rather spend time with more interesting, fun people. I'm still often overwhelmed by how people have reached out to me, letting me know I'm in their thoughts and they're there for me, and doing their best to keep my spirits up . It makes me even more determined to break out of my cocoon and reach out to others, if only to let them know I don't take them for granted and I appreciate them.

And while I work on this, I treasure all my gifts that have been bringing me hope and smiles. From the pendant given to me by friends from college, that radiates calm whenever I look at it, to a warm snuggly blanket from a group of women I've gotten to know who I think of as my sisters, even though I've never met any of them in person, to a little plushie doll that a dear friend and fellow music fan hand-made for me a couple of years ago.  I've been keeping all of these things close to me lately because they remind me of just how powerful friendship is, and just how much it has helped to keep me moving forward.

Music carries me forward as well. Like many people I often react very emotionally to music and it can completely turn my mood around. Sometimes it's in the lyrics, but more often it's in the way something sounds, the feeling it brings me, and I can rarely find words to adequately describe it. After Jeff died I spent about a week unable to listen to anything at all, I think in part because I didn't want to hear anything that might make me feel better.  It took some time to get over that, but gradually I reintroduced music into my life. As I think about that now I've realized I almost went chronologically with that reintroduction to music, at first it was things my parents enjoyed that I'd heard as a child, then onto various songs from the 70s, 80s, 90s... onward until I had come back to where I was and I could embrace my favorites again.  Now I can't imagine not having it.

I've tried to read a lot as well. I've fallen off a bit from that lately, I've been letting myself get distracted, but I've read through some books that have helped: Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now (one of Jeff's favorite books,) Thich Nhat Hanh's No Death No Fear, Grieving Mindfully by Sameet M. Kumar , and Healing Your Grieving Heart by Alan D. Wolfelt, which was gifted to me by the church where Jeff and I were married, and where his memorial was held, and is full of good ideas. I am still in the process of reading Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road by Neil Peart.

I have spent three and a half months being on an emotional roller coaster that more often than not gets stuck at the very bottom of the hill, but sometimes it's the smallest little things that make me smile, or make me really happy, or just give me a little hope about the future. I find a lot of hope in the silly, fun things that make me laugh and remind me that I can still feel joy and be happy about something and look forward to things, that I can smile at goofy pictures, and fangirl like a teenager over musicians, and laugh at stupid jokes. I think sometimes people feel like they must pat my hand and be sympathetic and dignified, because the situation calls for being sad and serious. For some people that would probably be the most appropriate thing to do, but I'm finding a lot more hope in the light, and the joy.

I've been considering trying out blog prompts here, because I’m not sure I want to continue on with this being my “I’m still so very sad every day” journal. I may feel that way, the past few days have been an extremely down period for me and I'n not sure what triggered it, but I’m realizing that the more I talk about how miserable and sad and alone I feel, the more miserable and sad and alone I actually do feel. It helps to write out my thoughts and talk to others about it, and one thing I don't want to do is put on a happy face and deny my grief, but sometimes I need to consider there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s tiny, often I can’t see it, but I suspect it’s there and I know it’s that little flicker of hope about the future that I need to hold on to.

Right now I'm trying my best to hold on to the hope that things will get brighter. On some occasions I do truly believe it. I still have a long, long way to go, but it's becoming a little easier to smile for no reason now.

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

I Heart U

Leaving important messages for the world.

Yesterday I was at the grocery and saw a handful of guys wandering around the gift displays, eyeing the candy boxes and stuffed animals and balloons, trying to figure out what would be an acceptable gift. I was a little amused by it, they all looked vaguely confused and frustrated, no doubt in part because they felt like they were expected to come up with something romantic. There may have been a lot riding on that gift. I hope it worked out well for all of them today.

We never really did much on Valentine's Day. Sometimes we'd go out for dinner. One year he bought me wonderful gift that I'll treasure forever, but mostly we didn't really treat it as a special day. We were mushy and romantic all year, we didn't need a holiday for that.

Still, I wouldn't have let the day pass unnoticed, I would always take any excuse to be a little extra mushy and leave little hearts all over the house. This year I'll be cuddled up with a blanket and pillows and plushie doll, but Jeff, you are still, and always my Valentine. ♥

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

Valentine's Day, 4AM

I keep thinking I should write a post on the main blog. I have some ideas in mind. I don't know where to go with them though.

We never did a lot for Valentine's Day. We didn't even usually go out because it was so busy. He did get me a gift a couple of times. One year an amazing gift, one I'll always treasure.

Mostly I just look at the happy hearts and flowers nonsense and feel extra lonely.

Mostly I wonder how long it takes before you don't feel sick and want to cry at least once a day.

I'm afraid the answer is never.

He's just over there

When I first come downstairs in the morning I always hope, just for a split second, that I'll see Jeff sitting on the couch. Sometimes I pause on the steps and try to will him into existence. I'm not having much success with that so far... I know I won't find him there, of course. But still, I still must look.

His presence in this house is very, very strong. I am often struck by the feeling that he's just left he room, or that he's right there with me, and I would not be surprised if I turned and found him standing in the kitchen. It's not that I'm so used to seeing him in a certain spot that I still feel like he's there, I think it's that his presence and his influence was so strongly imprinted on me that I will always feel like he's with me. In this house, in the car, out shopping. I still feel him around me.

Everyone we've ever gotten to know changes us in some way, and I like the idea that he is always going to be a part of me.  I talk to him all the time, and sometimes I can imagine his responses, his suggestions, his comments. His words flow easily through my thoughts, shaping my own reactions and giving me another perspective on things.

Maybe he is there, just beyond my sight. Maybe when we feel someone near us we have a sense of that.

 

image created with Bitstrips

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

Timekeeping

I'm doing odd little exercises today, counting up how much time we had together. Clearly I don't feel sad enough and must find additional things to make me cry.

From the time we first saw each other in person on our first date to the last hour, we had 3037 days together. 8 years, 3 months, and 23 days.

3037 days. That seems like such a small number.

Out of that time we were married for 2695 days.

Again, not enough. Not nearly enough.

And so I made it through that day

I talk to Jeff a lot. I talked to him all day today, wished him a happy birthday, talked about all the dreams we'd had. All the things we planned to do before we turned fifty. We had a lot of plans, although we realized that we wouldn't accomplish any of them by that magical fifty mark. Even if I start working on them in earnest I don't think I'll be able accomplish the things I'd hoped to do before my fiftieth birthday. And getting started is the hard part. It's so very hard to motivate myself.

I'm still trying to live in the moment, honey, just as you always wanted me to. I'm still having endless difficulties doing that. Quite often I don't like this moment very much, this moment is filled with loneliness and sadness, this moment reminds me that you aren't with me. This moment often feels empty.

Sometimes while I sit here and consider how empty this moment feels I like to theorize that maybe everything is just the present, that maybe all of my right this moments are happening simultaneously, I just happen to be aware of this one. So, right now I'm missing Jeff. But also right now, somewhere just beyond this awareness, I am snuggled up with him on the couch. Or hiking at the park. Or going on our first date. Right now I'm with him. Right now he has his arms around me and he's telling me that everything will be okay.

It's a nice thought.

Happy Birthday

Today is a tough day to greet with a smile. Today is one of those "firsts" that I have to get through alone, today is his birthday. Today he would have turned fifty. Today would have been one of those big milestone days. We never made much fuss over birthdays, usually we'd just go out to dinner, but I think this year I'd have tried to do something special. And there would have been teasing, lots of teasing, I'd been getting a head start on that shortly after his last birthday. "I can't believe you'll be fifty! You're sooo old!" I told him. Of course he'd have given it all back to me when my time came, but I'd have had a lot of fun out of it before that happened. :)

I considered writing about what turning fifty was going to mean to us, what we'd hoped to do, what was left undone, but instead I just sat down this morning and worked on a digital painting. I'm still learning my way around the program, but I think he'd like it. He'd like that I'm trying.
Happy birthday, Jeff. I love you more than I could ever express. I miss you every day.

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen