2 1/2 Years...

Today marks 2 years and 6 months since Brian went to Heaven. At times, it feels so fresh, as if it has just happened, as the memories cut deep and shake me to the core. Other times, it feels a lifetime ago, as the memories fade and are slipping away.  I am trying to be strong.  My biggest fear is that I will still be where I am today in 2 1/2 more years. And I don't think I can take that kind of pain. The sadness has enveloped me lately, the reality of life moves forward.  The thoughts linger in my head of happy times with Brian, of a time of peace in my life, of suffering and sadness, of hope and loss. And the questions for God seem to remain unanswered. Yet still there.  Things have been difficult for me lately.  I have kept a lot of things to myself for several reasons.

I, myself, am simply tired of it all. Tired of things revolving around me having a dead husband. Tired of being a widowed mother, tired of being alone and doing it all by myself. Just tired.

I want to shelter my kids, especially Rachel.  She is so done with grieving the loss of Brian that I have forced myself to grieve in private, to grieve alone without her support.

I have made choices on my own grief in order to nurture Tye and Amberlea.  When things are going so well for them and not for me, then I refuse to let my grief bring them down or add more to what they are already dealing with.

The memories hurt.  I am in a stage right now that a song might make me smile, feel mad, or burst into tears. And for the most part, I am never sure which way I will feel.  Usually things are in spurts, something makes me sad so I cry easily for 3-4 days. Then other times the memories warm my heart.

I am angry. At God. And that, in itself, is overwhelming.  I feel guilty for being angry.  I have demanded answers, and the answers aren't there. They probably never will be, at least while I am still on this earth.  And yet, I feel as if I deserve some answers, some purpose. This keeps coming back around, the thought won't go away, and I feel like I am wallowing in it sometimes.

I read about so many other widows. I think this can be very good.  I realize what I am feeling is normal. It isn't normal for others, but it is normal for my situation.  So then I don't feel quite as crazy.  Other times, I do feel crazy and wonder how I can ever get to a good place and be happy again. Lots of things make me happy.  I feel blessed by my 3 beautiful and amazing children.  But the state of happiness in my life is lost, and I can't seem to find it.

And I know for a fact there are those out there who think I should "be over it". I can't begin to tell you the pain this causes me, and I know in my heart I will never be over losing the love of my life. Sometimes I think it is me, that I think I should be "over it", that I think I need to figure out what I am doing here.

I am looking for a support group. They don't exist within 120 miles of here. My current stage of grief is ready for something else.  I need help knowing which feelings to face instead of suppressing them.  And so that is what I am actively spending my time doing, looking beyond the resources I currently have to find new and more specific sources that can help me.

I don't expect anyone to know.  I didn't know.  I still don't know, I still can't imagine what others specifically feel like in their own losses. I just know that my grieving process needs some work, and grief is exhausting.

I am back to just breathing, back to just taking a day at a time.  That seems to help.  I can't look ahead to another 2 1/2 years, to the 5 year mark, because it is too overwhelming.  But I do look back and know that I did figure out how to survive 30 months without Brian. Not without damage, for sure.  My relationships with everyone I know has taken a hit. I find it hard sometimes to understand the mundane worries of life after worrying about Brian's health.  I find it hard to relate to those who have trouble keeping up when I have dealt with what I have and am dealing with.

You are probably reading this and thinking this woman needs some serious help.  And you are right, and I know that.  Just what kind of help, I'm not sure.  For now, my goal is to feel a little better in another month, and go from there.  I have not lost faith, but my faith is struggling, it is growing and changing and evolving.  I would be a prime example of the importance of faith BEFORE something challenging happens in your life, because there is no doubt that my faith foundation has keep me afloat. And I know in the months to come, my faith will continue to hold me up.