And Dan's still dead.




I went to therapy. I do that every week. It's this whole I'm still trying to deal with my husband being dead thing.  I'm starting to dislike therapy, ok thats not really true, therapy is always good. Everybody go to therapy. but the last few sessions have been pretty intense and it's hard.

I can't precisely put my finger on it. It has to do with life being really good, because it is. I have a good life, I always have. The problem comes in having a good life while I miss Dan so intensely it feels unbearable. It sounds so simple, but it's so complicated. I miss Dan.

"well your heartbroken"  my therapist says, Yes exactly, I say through tears, I am so heartbroken, it physically hurts everyday even two years and three months later. We were not a couple who had grown apart, we didn't fight,  we weren't mad, or angry, or bitter at each other. We were madly in love with each other, like a fairy tale. Happily ever after. And then we weren't, and then it just stopped, with no notice, no working toward it, no growing apart. The wicked witch called death just marched in and destroyed everything. I am heart broken, I miss my prince charming and it hurts so so so bad..

Another widow blogger named Catherine Tidd wrote this the other day.  It's basically exactly how I feel. 

"I just wanted to be with him. I was so homesick for him that it was a physical ache. And if he can't be with me...why can't I be with him? I wasn't feeling like I wanted to leave this world; I have a great life, wonderful kids, friends I adore, and I'm having a new sofa delivered next week. No, I don't want to die. I just want to be with my husband."

Simple, so so complicated. The only way to achieve this is death and thats just not an option. So what does one do. Be happy in your good life while living with intense intense heartache. I guess thats the answer, but I don't really know how "your doing it" my therapist likes to tell me all the time. Uh K.

The last few weeks we've been talking about how I tend to do this thing where I say something like "had a really good time out with my girlfriends today, dan's still dead." Sometimes I say the Dan's still dead part out loud, most of the time I just say it in my head, mostly because I think people are tired of hearing me say it.  This is my life, every day, every activity, we could be in Disneyland (and we were) and I would say "it was the most fantastic day in Disneyland, and Dan's still dead." (and I did) Because it was and because he is. I am just stating the facts.

My therapist says I need to stop adding the Dan's still dead part, just say "I had a great time today" and then stop. I'm not sure why, something about how it's holding me back and keeping me from being happy and accepting that happy things can happen without Dan. Uh K. I guess in essence I see what she's saying but I don't know how, and I'm not sure I want to.  Of course saying Dan's still dead makes me sad. I'm sad. Dan's still dead. I miss him and I'm lonely for him and he is missing our life together.

Tonight we went to a year end awards program for Baby Girl. Last year we went and I found my self not able to control my tears because I missed Dan so much. He was supposed to be sitting next to me with his arm around me beaming as Baby Girl got her award. Last year I got up and left the hall and found a dark corner to hide in as I uncontrollably cried. This year I didn't do that. But I was still lonely for him. I still wanted him there with his arm around my shoulder, beaming as Baby Girl got an award. I still wanted to whisper back and forth with him about what was going on. I didn't do any of that because he's still dead.

Baby Girl had a great night at the awards ceremony. She sang a song. We had ice cream and cake. She played with her friends. I chatted with other adults. It was a good night.


Leave it.

Just leave it.

No I can't, I don't know how. It is leaving out a crucial part of the story, the explanation as to why her daddy couldn't come. The reason I sit by myself now. My heavy sigh at the end of every conversation. I miss him, I want him hear, I want to be with him. It hurts. Every fiber of my being misses him,

Baby Girl had a great night at the awards ceremony. She sang a song. We had ice cream and cake. She played with her friends. I chatted with other adults. It was a good night......Dan's still dead

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

Comments

  1. UnknownMay 5, 2017 at 6:58 AM

    "I am just stating the facts."
    It comes from my lips, too, a string of words much like yours ... "but he's dead". My reality. Your reality. Life's reality. For me, it's my reality and a part of my healing, or whatever you can call such heartache and pain and loss. I have "good days", but he's still dead. I send love and kindness your way...

    ReplyDelete

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