Thanks to Nora here and and on the phone, I've been lucky to have met someone here on this web site and we try and help each other.

One aspect to losing our loved ones is the guilt. Guilt for the arguments we had, the fights, (verbal and physical), and the last words exchanged -- words we wish we had or hadn't said.

The result is guilt and depression. In my case Annette and I had the usual highs and lows. We were poor, always fighting our own demons. She never saw herself as attractive. We were both obese. "How can you find me beautiful?? I'm so fat an ugly!" were words she'd often say to me. I looked with anger in my eyes at her, threateningly at her, warning her never to speak those words. The last time she did I flat out slapped her. She screamed, I screamed she'd warn me never to strike her again. Yet I did, over the years. She'd either hit back or stick her tongue out at me.

In one instance I hit her with my pillow in bed, telling her to stop treating herself like shit. I told her how beautiful she was. Her eyes, her lips. I cried because she'd had a tough time growing up with an abusive father. So I made it a point to reinforce my love for her despite times we faced starvation, eviction and unemployment.

We both grew fatter. Yet, ultimately, my having to seek work and going to work with my blinding pain and agony pumped my heart, while Annette remained home with physical activity. She swelled, and suffocated from fluid build up in her body and heart. This was supposed to be my fate. My death. Yet she left me first.

And I have on my pc a wall paper of the two of us. I have come to realize that ultimately, I am a sentimentalist to the extreme. That I can no more see joy or purpose. I can only pray that Annette hears me each and every day of every moment when I call out to her.

You see, even though we each want to die and be with our loved ones, fate has left us here. In fact, in some cases we're healthier to the point we stand the chance of living a few more decades. If that doesn't resemble hell it sure comes close.

 

So, I now, despite the agony of waddling when I walk, when I nearly faint every moment to moment and a groin so bloated it now reaches down to  my knees leaving me a walking freak, I managed to get my old job back.

How long before I finally give in to the agony before I quit or they fire me? I don't know. I know only that I am suffering like a wounded animal that wants only to crawl somewhere and quietly die and be with Annette. The loneliness rips the spirit and leaves a empty husk of a human being. 

So I will continue to shout out to Annette to come for me in the night until my life ends. I also will continue to make friends here and there too.

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Replies to This Discussion

Hi richard well done for going back to work, I am proud of you and I know Annette will be proud to. You have been so brave to face your pain and fears and get back to work. There has been so much tragedy here in the uk in recent weeks, so many people killed, young children, mothers, fathers whole families, you can not begin to understand it. I spoke to a lovely medium earlier this week, we were talking about this and she told me that no matter when or how you die its your time, nothing will change that. This made me think that no matter how much I wish to be with Shirl, it won't happen till its my time, 12 March 12.15 was her time. It might be today it might be in another 20 years, I can't change or dictate when it will be, so like you I'm just struggling through each day. Some of the things this lady told me, she couldn't have known, it was a phone reading so she couldn't read my body language, she asked me no questions, some things didn't make sense but too much of what she said did, so I know Shirl is here seeing what's happening. I hope this helps you to realise that Annette is with you to xx

Jackie,  You have some interesting numbers there.  !2 of March 12:15. repeat of 1 & 2.  My husband communicates with me through numbers.  I have gotten 1 & 0 so much and lots of 4's or numbers when I see them that have a consecutive appearance.  4433 or 567.  Math is considered the universal language of science and I do believe there are patterns that appear in our lives but most often we are too busy to recognize them or attribute them to coincidence.  I have had a few other things happen too that make me really have to question whether or not he is still trying to guide me even though he is not right here.  Several things in the first couple years were just incomprehensible. I still feel I get signs but it is also hard to hold onto that this is all I get.  I just keep watching for the patterns that might show up. Studying physics and neuroscience it seems the understanding of the universe and its relationship to us and our lives is becoming more relatable and yet it is so huge.  Nature has a way of conducting the symphony and we are all but one instrument.  Not an easy part to play and I look forward to my release but for now I keep trying to learn what else I have to do so I can retire from this symphonic vibration and get to the level where my husband is.  I know he is there, somewhere.  Why else would I feel the pull of him so much?  Ok, just looked at the clock because i need to get to work.  Guess what time it was?  1:01............

Richard, I identify with much of what you have written.  The frustration that explodes as anger as you grow desperate to express your deepest feelings.  The anger that hurts the one you love and you fear so profoundly that it's  all they remember at the moment of death.  The prayers they remember instead the devotion and love.  I have tried to deal with the guilt but it has been a real struggle.  I try to believe in the love and companionship we shared and built our lives upon but without her, the strongest support is gone.  I cannot begin to express all the regrets I have, all the pain I've felt for the pain I caused, and depth of the loss I feel now that I have no way to hear her forgive me.  I have asked for forgiveness every single day for the last 2 1/2 years.  I know she does forgive me, I know that with all the certainty possible but I still can't forgive myself.  I think of all the times I failed her and disappointed her.  In my own mind, those memories are overpowering.  I sincerely don't believe that is how she would (or does) see it and she would not want me to torture myself the way I have.  Perhaps some of this is survivor's guilt because she deserved to go on and bless the world with her love and I feel I have so little to give.  I could be hateful, selfish, and thoughtless.  She never was and that's probably she was able to stay with me and bless my life in uncountable ways.  Diane would never be as hard on me as I have been on myself and her love absolves me.  I know that.  I just need to believe it and always remember.  Annette was with you for a reason and that reason is you.  I pray you can find peace and forgive yourself.

John and Richard, I keep thinking about what you've said here --there is something I relate to strongly and also something that I feel troubled by. I think that what we gave to our partners was love, the solid, supportive knowledge that we were uniquely important to and beloved by another unique human being. Even fighting, impatience, and thoughtlessness can be manifestations of intimacy -- you can only be truly thoughtless with someone once you have built a real living relationship with implicit bonds and expectations to be upheld or abrogated. Of course there is a natural tendency to idealize, even deify the lost beloved, but we are all imperfect -- surely our partners must have loved us wholly, flaws (selfishness, blindness, whatever) and all. One of the things that is so terrible in this bereavement is the sudden total absence from the world of the special love from one person, the one who loved us uniquely and put us first. At least, for me part of the pain of being a widow is the realization that there is no one now in the world who cares for me in that way, no one interested in my far from interesting day, my misplaced watch, my silly, random thoughts. The loss leaves you shaken, weakened -- the world feels emptied of meaning just as you have been sapped of purpose and strength. You both write about your wives with such deep feeling, i can't help but believe that your partners must have rejoiced in the love you felt for them, and also that such love should be honoured by the survivor. What more can we give each other? Death is inevitable, and one partner almost always goes first --so strange how this can be both an obvious, ordinary part of all life and a shocking, devastating personal tragedy. In my case, my husband was very ill when we met, and we had a lot of years together, yet eleven months later I continue to feel totally shocked and ruined by his death. When I speak with people who knew us, especially as time goes by, there is a spoken or unspoken "what did you expect?" -- I don't know what I did expect, but the loss is terrible and the question, however carefully worded, is hurtful. Not that a hurt of that kind is important, the worst has already happened and what is said now is not a big deal to me, except that talking about his death makes me cry and I don't want to keep crying all the time in public. It makes people uncomfortable and then that upsets me. Sort of a vicious circle. Sorry that this is so rambling but my original point was that having experienced a deep love for a partner must be a good thing, and that excoriating oneself for being the survivor may be just a stage of the natural grief, not a true reflection of the essence of your relationship to your beloved partner.

M: and Jackie:

Going back to work is a step forward, yes but the physical pain of getting to it and home is agony. I realize now, I can't move forward without Annette. Part of it is the loneliness and the other part cowardice.

I have so many issues medically, that I'll never recover. I see her purse, eyeglasses even the books she used too study online with to become a medical coder. I just can't put them away.  I just can't do it. My dreams are becoming more and more disturbing. My breathing and ability to walk has declined to the point where getting to my job leaves me sweating in pain.

I keep fighting but I also keep getting weaker because of it. I just let myself, Annette and everyone else down. I believe in life after death. I only wonder now how long my misery on this earth ends so that my joy and happiness in the next life can begin.

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