Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
My husband is my soulmate, my love, my heart. I knew from the moment I met him that we were soulmates, meant to be together (that is not hyperbole -- I really did know). We were together for nearly 13 years before he died; he died of a sudden, unexpected heart attack, literally one week to the day after our wedding. His death killed him and destroyed me.
I cannot begin to explain the devastation. From the second I knew he died I have wanted him to come back, to have our life together that we were meant to have -- and failing that, I want nothing more than to die. I am agnostic (verging on atheist, since my husband died), so I don't know if there's a god or an afterlife. I hope there is, and that my husband is there, happy and still himself, and that we will be together again, and I hope I die as soon as possible so that I can be with him. If there is no such thing as an afterlife, then I still hope I die as soon as possible so that this horrific pain of missing him will be over.
The worst thing about all of this is not knowing if my sweet, wonderful husband's soul still exists, as it should. The second worst thing is not having him here with me, living our life together. But after those, there are so many other bad things now -- whatever tenuous faith I may have had in the possibility of a loving god is gone and now if there is a god I hate her/him, any chance we/I had to have children is gone, I can barely relate to my family or spend time with them (though they are wonderful and loving, but it's not enough to make me want to live), I am severely depressed and have absolutely no desire to live.
People say "It's sad, but you have to move on". No, I f***ing don't -- and won't, in any way. The only reason I haven't killed myself yet is because I promised my family that I wouldn't, but there's no way I will choose to live for years -- if god or the universe or whatever doesn't kill me, eventually I will. For as long as I am forced to live, I will NEVER date anyone else -- I am MARRIED, and my husband's death does not change that. The very idea of even going on a date with anyone else is sickening to me, and always will be (I'm not condemning anyone else who chooses to date after the death of their spouse or partner, I'm just saying that this is how it is for me). I have no desire to ever do anything with my life now (I didn't used to be like that, only since my husband died).
I'm not even sure why I'm typing this here, or what I'm looking for. I definitely don't want any responses about how god never gives us more than we can bear, or how god is good, or basically anything about god -- if god exists at all, i have no use for her/him. No offense to those who do have faith of any kind, but it's not for me and I don't want to hear it.
I understand what you mean. I really like what you said toward the end. If we could just be assured beyond a doubt that life continues, that you will be with your husband and I with my girlfriend, that wouldn't be enough, but it would be a lot better than this. It's the not knowing that makes it all so hard. It seems so unnecessary.
This weekend in 2012 my husband and I had a small Memorial Day barbecue/get-together in our own little yard, which came with the apartment we were renting at the time. It was one of the few times we had a bit of extra money, so we splashed out on lots of food, invited family and friends, and had a great time.
But even good memories like that pretty much only cause me pain now, because my husband died 3 months later, so now we can never do anything like that again. I am endlessly sad, and I am also endlessly angry -- beyond angry, I am royally pissed off. Being sad and pissed off was never my natural state (of course I had my moments, same as everyone else, but in general I was a fairly happy person), but now it is. There isn't anything else.
Sorry to hear that, Bluebird. Nine years. Nothing I can say will help in the slightest, but I understand you.
Thank you, Jeff. I know you do understand, and that does help a bit.
I'm sorry you are in a similar position to me. I think your having your baby probaby makes it both easier and harder -- at least, I think that is how it would be for me. Other than you having a baby, it does seem that your situation and mine are much alike. My husband is very much like yours, kind and helpful towards everyone -- not a perfect person, but a good one. I truly hope there is a good afterlife where we will be reunited and can be together forever as husband and wife. I love him with all my soul.
It's now been just over 9 years since my husband died. The weather has turned to Autumn, which has always been my favorite season, but while I still prefer Autumn temperatures my love for this time of year has been greatly muted since my husband died.
I've put up some Autumn decorations, so the house looks nice, and I've just made dinner (pasta, topped with chicken, pastrami, onions, and tomatoes briefly fried with butter). It smells great in here, and the food tastes good, but ultimately it means nothing. I realized years ago that when my husband died, among the many other things that I lost, any sense of "coziness" disappeared. Now everything is just cold.
If my husband were here with me, we would be enjoying this meal together, probably while watching a documentary on tv, and later in the evening we would go to bed, make love, and then he would curl his body around mine while I stayed sitting up and watching tv (he had to get up for work much earlier than I did), and we would both feel safe and warm and together and cozy and home.
And now none of that exists for me anymore, and I fucking hate it.
So sad and so understandable. I like what you said about how any sense of coziness is gone. That says so much.
Thanks, Jeff. It just hit me really hard, that sense of a lack of coziness, warmth, home. Even the simple pleasures aren't pleasures now. In the past, during the winter, when it would snow and my husband and I would be cuddled up in bed together while dinner cooked in the crockpot and permeated the house with wonderful smells -- that was heaven. Now, when it snows and I am stuck in the house, no matter how warm it is I am cold, and I just feel entombed in the silent snow.
Bluebird, you put it so well. I have a pretty good idea what you mean.
Thank you, Jeff. It helps a bit, knowing that someone has read what I wrote, and understands what I mean.