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Comment by bluebird on January 11, 2016 at 3:05pm

My husband died a little over 3 years ago. I have a Xanex prescription for when I get panic attacks, and I take something every night in order to get even the few hours of sleep I do get (usually I take Benadryl; on really bad nights I take a sleeping pill).
I have always known that I would not want to live if my beloved died. I have made no attempt to "get on with life", nor will I. When he died, I died. Our souls are intertwined, it could never be otherwise.

Comment by Linda Engberg on January 11, 2016 at 3:00pm

Hi Alice,

I am going on almost 3 years for losing my wonderful Husband to cancer. I take 3 different types of pills to help me just make it through the day. I also have a psychologist who I see every two weeks, tried all the things you did to fit back in the world, but it is just not going to happen to me. Without him, I am nothing. I will love him to the day I die which I hope is soon.

Comment by Jesse's Mom on January 8, 2016 at 6:15pm

Hilary,

Thank you for posting the words from the bereaved parents. The echo my thoughts exactly. Biding my time. That is all this is. How good it was of you to stop and hear them even though you are struggling too.

Comment by rachel_micele on January 8, 2016 at 3:38pm

I hadn't thought of that one Lizzie. "Is the love of my life not the best thing that happened to me?" Exactly. Naive people are such idiots. Just don't say anything.

Very true Peggy, you have to be in this nightmare to understand anything of it. But my fuse for the stupid things people say is dwindling. I don't hear it often but it's still enough to piss me off. I would of totally responded to that comment on the article. Nicely, but firmly and bluntly.

That particular line (heaven must have needed another angel) reminds me of the movie, The Rabbit Hole. Very good movie. The clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDYuDtyvVVQ

Comment by rachel_micele on January 7, 2016 at 8:43pm

I liked your response Alice, "What, and stock up on tissues??" I'd say don't ever apologize for your ranting off to someone. It'll teach them to be more careful of what they say, maybe even leave you alone. I know for me, 99% of the time that would be the best and preferred option. And all you wanted was some fresh air. 

I'm glad Hilary you were able to have the conversation with the mother. Maybe for a split second you found a small comfort. I was also touched by it. "I was informed by my boss that I can't be entrusted to continue working at this level of dysfunction." Now being on this side of the hell, I'm baffled at work and societal expectation. I feel for every single person who has to face these kind of expectations. I'm so, so sorry. The work meeting beefing up for 2016 ... such torture of a conversation for us. I am glad the anti-depressant has not affected your ability to sense D.

This is all just such hell.

Comment by Hilary Christene on January 6, 2016 at 11:40pm

Oh, Alice. What a surreal tragedy. Rachel, Fran, Lizzie... all of us so changed by this ...

I had a beautiful conversation yesterday with the mother whose son passed three years ago by suicide. He abandoned this world, unable to obtain legitimate diagnosis and treatment for his Lyme disease, which had caused unrelenting suffering from the time he was fourteen until age twenty one, when he ended it. He had said to his mother many times "Mom, you have this disease, too." Yesterday, I handed her the lab test result which revealed that she indeed has that same disease. She wept and said "he was right. He was right."

He had been an only child. She explained how she and her husband no longer had any ties to this Earth or its future, because of the loss of her son. This world no longer has any relevance for them. They are just biding time until it's over. They go every year together to a beach cabin for then entire holiday stretch, specifically to isolate, to avoid the inevitable suffered by Alice here, and Rachel, and all of us.

She spoke at length, stream of consciousness, her view on what had befallen him, her, them. Her viewpoint has become somewhat mystical, as has mine. She said she had failed in her life's purpose. "We came here to fix this. We were supposed to work together to overcome this. I failed him." Then she apologized, for saying things that were so strange, and I heard myself saying back to her "you are making sense to me. I understand you. No one else makes sense to me anymore."

And they don't. A colleague at work asked "how were your holidays," to which I responded aloud "great and-yours-did-you-get-a-lot-of-relaxation-and-food?" And my internal response was "are you, like, a pain vampire? What the hell."

I was informed by my boss that I can't be entrusted to continue working at this level of dysfunction. I opted for an anti depressant, and it has elevated me into the numbness. At our Wednesday meeting this morning, everyone agreed that 2016 is going to be our best year ever! Thanks to the anti depressant, I felt numb hearing them all looking forward to their world upcoming, all blessedly naive.

I think numb is okay for now. It didn't stop my sensing of D's presence, which is what I was afraid of.

Comment by Fran on January 6, 2016 at 9:12am

Alice,

I have at least 12 boxes of tissues in reserve at all times....It doesn't help.

Comment by rachel_micele on January 6, 2016 at 2:05am

The New Year's beat down has yet to completely wear off. A holiday I had always been so fond of, will it now be the holiday of dread?? I heard another perspective that resonated with me: It's hard because I look at the next year from a high vantage point. The very, very beginning and I see how long it is from here. 365 days long. And nowhere from my view do I see him and that is painful and debilitating. It seems like I'm setting off on a lonely journey full of sadness all over again.

A friend, who yea meant well and what the fuckever else, wished me the happy new year. On the 2nd she asked if I had any NY resolutions. I responded that NY sucked and I just wanted to forget it even existed. Her response was, "Aww. :( But it's the time for a fresh start and new beginnings." Really. Wow. I couldn't even respond to that. I still feel so completely and grossly enraged, I'm paralyzed to even speak on it. All i can do is shake my head in disbelief. To be naive. What a luxury. 

That is something else in this grief of why it's just easier to isolate and not even converse with the "normals". It's absolutely exhausting to feel like you have to defend yourself, so to speak, and explain to them the hell this is. I barely have the energy to figure out how to survive this. I didn't sign up for that job. ANY of this bullshit nightmare. And to just "make nice", what good does that do? All I do is feel even worse because I didn't give my hell a voice.

Comment by Linda Engberg on January 3, 2016 at 7:26am

Hi Mel & John,

It is just another year, closer to joining my beloved Husband.

Comment by Mel Royer on January 2, 2016 at 1:31pm

That's right, John. Another year of last year except all of it a day later. I am tired already. I replaced the 2015 calendar with a new one.  Put it up over where my wife's hospital bed used to be. Her tray table is still there with all her creams and lotions. I can still hear her asking me to rub her back. I start to cry and say to no one there.."Sure, I'll rub your back as long as you want me to, I'll never stop....."  You know I actuallt YouTubed a George Jones song, "He stopped Loving her Today" remember,  they put a wreath upon his door  (Paraphrased maybe) Yeah! that's me.  There's a spot next to her with my name on it.  Can't wait to get there!

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