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Butterflyfish,
Your words are so bluntly correct - nobody can do anything to reverse death. I'm sorry you had to learn it.
What you can do, you can understand that the best way you can pay respect to your husband, is to complete what you started together, and, maybe, even what your husband started himself. You are here to carry memories about him, as a person lives as long as he is not forgotten by living ones. And, if you do love him, take solace in a thought that he is spared from what you are going through now.
Pain will get more dull with time.
Please accept my deepest condolences.
oh no, just saw your post and I can so feel your pain................sending cyber hugs to you and prayers abound to offer you peace and acceptance. Such a tragedy for you to have to endure. I am just so very sorry.
My husband died suddenly in front of my eyes. I tried but could not revive him and by the time the ambulance came, he was gone. He was in his late 50s. He was a loving husband and hardworking businessman. He was excited about our future together.
I am lost, broken and so full of despair I cant breathe. I can't imagine life without him. We were so happy and completely in love and devoted to each other. I hate facing the world without him.
Friends and family have surrounded me. They are doing their best to help me and I'm grateful for them. But there isn't really anything they can do. They keep telling me that I am strong, and everything will be okay. But they are wrong. It's not going to be okay. I am not strong. Not at all.
The pain of going through life without my husband is more than I can bear.
Dear Friend,
I don't have time to read through all the many replies to your very moving post. I needed to post, however. If I repeat some things others have said, please overlook the repetition.
First, you physically experienced a shock, one of the worst a human can experience. I know this because in 2010, a male acquaintance died in front of my eyes. It was as if someone threw a light switch; he was there talking one minute, dropped his head in mid-sentence, and then-- Gone. I had never had this happen to me before, had never seen anyone die even in a hospital. Because of his huge physical size, I put all my effort into keeping him from falling off a kitchen chair. I was shouting for help. I somehow reached my tiny non-smartphone and got 911. All of this took approximately a half-hour. IT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY.
I will remember the experience until the day I die, so, please, dear, remember that you yourself are reeling from a grave shock to your system. That this was your husband probably sent your blood pressure into a range I can't even imagine (comparing it to my numbness with a relatively distant friend).
Second, if you are religious, particularly if you are Christian and believe in an afterlife, this sudden death, rather than be assuaged by your religious faith, will only make your faith itself a burden. How can a loving God who has promised us paradise if we are obedient and loving do something to me so ugly--so beyond, beyond, so far beyond ugly? If you were or are an atheist or of a faith that does not hold fast to the belief in a God who never lets us go, right now you would not be thinking: Why did You let me go? You are in a state of not only DISbelief, but of hatred you have no control over. Do not make life worse for yourself for guilt over anger that really deserves the name hatred. If you are Christian, you may share my belief that it isn't Jesus Christ, the Bible, or God who are so responsible for the trust all Christians have in a cheerful future. In fact, if you read Jesus' words carefully, he doesn't preach happiness at all. He preaches obedience and freedom from fear. You are in an ugly place right now, dear--the loneliness must be unbearable. But if you only knew the millions of other people who are in that same ugly place, all alone, unable to talk about it with people you need to talk about it with the most.
Third, and finally, you are not only in the grip of fear; you are in the grip of terror. To have your entire existence literally turned on its head in the space of under a minute, perhaps, is...too much. It's too much Hell for a human mind to be able to absorb. And it is Hell. In fact, you won't get any closer to the awful abandonment that Hell is than to be in the situation that happened to you. Every single negative thing about this life pounced on you and ambushed you like a wild animal out of the bushes. You are terrified, and you (pardon the word) damn well have the right to be. For that awful awful day, life itself became a terrorist.
But you will go on. You have family and loved ones depending on you to fight their own fears and anger. You are a vital part of this world who tragically has experienced a loss many many people do not. It is the coldest comfort imaginable to say that now you are wise in ways no sane person would ever want to be, but it's the truth.
Have faith in God, or in life, or whatever Being or concept your heart finds peace in. Cry until your eyes are ready to fall out of your head. Cry some more. And then when you're through, cry until you just sleep.
May the peace that passes understanding be with you at this time. You did not deserve what happened to you. Your beloved husband did not deserve to be taken so brutally. This is a hard world. God bless you in your grief.
Last edited by Purplecow; 02-13-2018 at 04:18 AM..
Reason: clarity
If breaking down is a sign of strength than I qualify. This might sound strange, but I want to feel the pain full force. I don't want to mask it with alcohol or drugs.
I broke down and took some melatonin to try to sleep. It did help me to fall asleep but only for a couple of hours.
I totally understand where you're coming from on this. I was the same. I didn't want to mask anything only to delay it. I did however need to get some sleep... with much on my plate. I take melatonin every night anyway so it was not much help. I did get my doc to prescribe some Ambien for me. They don't like to go more than 2 weeks with it so that's all I took. But it really helped. Getting sleep isn't masking the pain, it's simply giving your body (and mind) some rest which they both sorely need.
You have a lot on your plate now and if your body breaks down your immune system weakens and it's easier to come down with something.
So if you need a little help (only for a short time) to sleep, please don't just discard the notion thinking it's masking your true feelings. Believe me.. the moment you wake up.. it'll be there.
But you do need to get rest.
I do not recommend drinking or drugs outside of a doctor's care tho.
My big meltdown came about a month later but since that day, I've done quite well.
Dear one, there is nothing anyone can say or do to make this better. This is probably by far the worst thing you will ever have to go through in your life and this grief could last for years. I hope you get glimpses of joy and a light that guides you through this difficult time. I wish you all the best.
If breaking down is a sign of strength than I qualify. This might sound strange, but I want to feel the pain full force. I don't want to mask it with alcohol or drugs.
I broke down and took some melatonin to try to sleep. It did help me to fall asleep but only for a couple of hours.
I think this is a functional impulse. We need to go through it, and not avoid the pain. I know some people who have taken anti-depressants, and I would not tell them that they are wrong, but I don't think this should be thought of as an automatic thing. Feeling extreme grief in this situation is not the same as clinical depression. It is entirely normal. You should follow your instincts. I am always concerned about sleep because we need sleep in order to do the hard work of mourning. I know exactly how illusive a good night's sleep can be, however. If you are able to take some sleep medication for a short while, it may help your body to "reset" and actually sleep naturally. I'm not too familiar with that, as I tolerate sleep meds very poorly. I finally learned to sleep again when I got the flu a month and a half after my husband died.
(((hugs)))) Butterflyfish, from a fellow widow (of 3 years+). Take care of yourself and do what you feel is right for you. It does get more bearable and becomes your new normal.
I also quit my anti-depressants (I was taking them when he died, for a different reason) as they made me feel numb. I wanted to experience real emotions, good or bad. Never be ashamed of your feelings, if people have problems with your sadness, tough. You know you can always come here for a sympathetic ear.
I am very sorry. The same thing happened to me. We had discussed what would happen when one of us died and we agreed to treat it as a do over and have the best life possible. And that's exactly what I have been doing!
I think this is a functional impulse. We need to go through it, and not avoid the pain. I know some people who have taken anti-depressants, and I would not tell them that they are wrong, but I don't think this should be thought of as an automatic thing. Feeling extreme grief in this situation is not the same as clinical depression. It is entirely normal. You should follow your instincts. I am always concerned about sleep because we need sleep in order to do the hard work of mourning. I know exactly how illusive a good night's sleep can be, however. If you are able to take some sleep medication for a short while, it may help your body to "reset" and actually sleep naturally. I'm not too familiar with that, as I tolerate sleep meds very poorly. I finally learned to sleep again when I got the flu a month and a half after my husband died.
I completely concur. I have had the advantages of knowing a lot of psychology, working with the mentally ill, and many other pertinent background experiences. The extremely close relationship that my wife and I had was beyond many couples comprehension, and my knowledge and my gut both told me that I had to face the changes from her death head on. I did all of the things that I have suggested to others and more. I also had two wonderful friends that were completely "there for me" and others that were willing to do as much as they could.
It was painful, it was hard, there were times when I felt I had to "come up for air" and struggled to do so, as so much of everyday life had been intertwined with hers.
I knew that I had reached a turning point when I began to accept the great joy of her and her values as enduring, and focus less on the time around her death. I miss her physical presence every day and always will, but so much of who she is lives within me that she not only remains with me but is a part of me.
My sleep is different now, but part of that is simply from getting older, and I have always had unusual sleep habits. Accept that there will be changes, and try not to get captured by the "disease" model of psychology, which is designed to make money. Grief is NOT a disease. Feeling extreme sorrow is NOT a disease. As you get further in time from the event you may come to recognize that in some ways your grief was part of a growth process. At a minimum, you get to have a better understanding of the need for compassion and capacity to offer it.
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