Two and a half years and I feel like shit.





It's been two and a half years since the worst night of my life. Two and a half years since I watched my perfectly healthy husband die in an instant. Two and a half years since I called 911 pleading for help. Two and a half years since I begged God to fix him. Technically it hasn't been two and a half years yet, it's been two years, five months, two weeks, and five ish days.  I could give you a more exact count if I could remember what today's date is. He died on January 12, 2015.  July 12 is coming up, that will be two and a half years.

I told my therapist, "It's been two and a half years and I still feel like shit" She wrote something down on her note pad. I always wonder what she writes down, what she deems important and what she thinks is just me yammering. Dan was a therapist, he had a mug of cartoon characters in a therapists office. The client is laying on the sofa. You can see the back of the therapists head and his note book. it says "F*&%^ Crazy" I always wonder if thats what my therapist writes about me.  "How do you think you should feel?" she asks. That's a typical therapist question if I ever heard one. Answer, "I don't know just better" "Define better" she says. Seriously lady. Better as in not this, I didn't expect to still feel like this after two and a half years. However I didn't expect to feel like this at all, I didn't expect my husband just to drop dead six weeks after he turned 36. I didn't expect to feel any of this but I expect to feel better.  yup F*&$^ Crazy.

I still want to cry most days. I still go into a little shock when I actually think about what happened. I still go to therapy every single week so I can still talk about my husband (he died two and a half years ago) I still take anti-depressants. I still wear my wedding ring. I still scream at God. I guess I don't know what better looks like, but I know its not this. I also know that it's not like in TV.  I can't just smile and sigh and say "O he was a great guy, but I know he wants me to be happy so I will be" That's only in Hollywood, real life doesn't work like that.  That probably would get a F*&$^ Crazy from any decent therapist. Where is the middle ground.

"what do you want?" she asks me as we move into another conversation. Uhhh I thought this was obvious "I want Dan to be alive" duh, easy, its only six little words. "what do you want in reality?" wait this isn't reality, Dan can't just pop on back to life, dammit, now what.  "I want Dan, I don't want anything else after that...I don't know what I want...I want to feel better, whatever better is." Then my therapist said something that was very harsh, but most likely very true.

"Cut yourself some fucking slack"

ok maybe she has a point. maybe.

"you are doing it." she really likes to tell me that one. "you are doing everything you are supposed to be doing, you are making it" I'm the poster child for handling grief, yay me. "Exactly" I say. That is exactly the problem, I am doing everything I am supposed to be doing. I am getting up and out of bed every single day (for real harder then it sounds) I am taking care of Baby Girl, and according to my therapist kicking ass at it, well thats a matter of opinion I suppose. I am writing, I am talking, I am not suppressing. I found a house. I got a job.  I go to therapy. I take Baby Girl to therapy. We go to support group. My family is amazingly supportive. Dan's family is amazingly supportive. I have awesome friends.  Really I have everything going for me. yup everything should be sunshine and lolipops.

My soul mate died two and a half years ago and I  feel like shit.

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

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