This Morning's Battle...

Reality is ridiculous. It's dumb and I hate it. I know I have to live in it but I don't understand it. 

I have been having better days lately. I've been laughing more and crying less.  There has still been the ever present stress of probate and finances that sometimes makes my chest feel tight and my palms sweat, but for the most part I've been better. 

But then even when those better days seem to start collecting, something triggers the demon inside that is named grief. 

Last night when I went to bed I had to take two ibuprofen pm because I haven't slept soundly in weeks.  Conner had a friend up the other night and I had just dozed off when they came to bed at midnight and ruined all chances of returning to sleep quickly.  I spent yesterday with a terrible pain in my neck if I moved just right because even when I sleep it is with such tension that my muscles are all jacked up. 

When I went to bed last night it seemed very strange for a moment that even though for the past 6 1/2 months my son has been sleeping in my bed, Mike wasn't there. 

Mike was a part of me and I was a part of him. Now I feel like I'm literally living without a vital organ so things don't work with me the same as before. My brain suffers from widow brain; I forget things if I do not set reminders in my phone. My heart skips beats sometimes and I have to catch my breath because some memory overwhelms my defenses and I crumble in sobs. 

I miss all the little things we would say to each other, just telling about our highs and lows of the day. I now have no one to tell those to. 

That absence of my most favorite and frequent confidant is what sometimes now sends me into those gut wrenching sobs that took hold the first few days. Those were the sobs that I sometimes think, "what did I look like in those moments? What did people think when all of a sudden in the middle of stories about him I literally began the strange pattern of breathing and my sister had to come to my chair and bring me back?"

That wasn't me. 

I have never broken down like that except one other time in my life. I lost my grandpa when I was pregnant with Conner and I was in a class full of high schoolers when I dropped to my knees and began crying. 

Now, unfortunately, it IS me. It's what happens on a semi-regular basis in this house. At least I don't do it in public. 

A part of me is missing. 

But there is no organ donor who can replace the missing piece. There is no fix. 

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if we hadn't been so happy, I don't know. I'm just so sick of the random moments that wash over me and no one can make it better for those crippling minutes. 

And in those crippling sobs and periods of panic attack style breathing, I also become angry.

I'm angry for many reasons.  

One is that I still cannot believe that my heart and brain cannot fully accept the absence of my husband. I mean, they are supposed to be these super strong and awesome organs, so why can't they just heal and stop reminding me? Why sometimes do they still fill me with shock and surprise that this is my new reality? For example, why the heck when Conner climbed into bed beside me last night did my heart and brain go, "ummm, where's Mike? Why are you and Conner having a special night? That's your side of the bed and you're on Mike's side. What are you doing?" 

Another is that nobody asked me! I did not choose for my marriage to end! I did not want this! I did not plan for this or EVER prepare myself for this to be a possibility! I have been divorced and it sucked, but at least I was consciously agreeing with my ex-husband that we were divorcing. I didn't ask for the divorce, he did, but at least I followed the steps of signing the papers and agreeing to dissolve five years of marriage. 

There was no paper to be signed this time. 

No agreeing to let go of the love of my lie. 

And then also...the loneliness. I read on another blog recently that loneliness is not a strong enough word to describe widowhood. Isn't that the truth?!?! 

Loneliness sneaks into your world like a vicious snake slithers in the grass, quiet and unnoticed until it strikes. It doesn't matter if I'm in a crowded gym full of lively spectators at a basketball game, or sitting shoulder to shoulder at a Cardinals game. It doesn't matter if I'm in the middle of trying to plan out questions for upcoming interviews I have to perform for my new job or if I'm surrounded by friends and family at a birthday party. 

Loneliness is my constant companion and I hate it. I wish I never knew loneliness existed. And it's like it is bitter and angry with me because it comes when I would rather it stay uninvited. I know it sounds crazy to say that I am beyond lonely and that loneliness isn't even a strong enough word to describe widowhood in one breath, but then to tell you in the next that sometimes in all this loneliness...I just want to be left alone. 

That's why I have found myself spending so much time on my deck. No talking. Silence. Alone. But a peaceful alone. Different from these dumb attacks from loneliness. A reflective solitude. 

So I've had my morning battle with loneliness and grief and it's now time to grit my teeth, clench my jaw, and make a day worth living. 

Please don't ever take for granted your partner, your most favorite and frequent confidant. Love with all that you have and with all that you are. Live today like there is no tomorrow, because one day there actually might not be. 

I love you, Babe. NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love, 

Veronica