Welcome to my dark abyss. If you want a rainbow and sunshine, exit immediately. All I can offer you is a black rainbow and an extremely long, lonely tunnel with only a match lighting the end.
Told you it was bad.
So far over the past six weeks I have been (graciously) numb to pretty much everything. While this has been great for avoiding the negative emotions, it has also kept me from experiencing many of the positive emotions that could be associated with my life. Yep, I said positive emotions. Because even though I have suffered a devastating loss, positive things do still occur. Like that 5K I successfully completed over the weekend…but I couldn’t find it in me to be excited/happy about the accomplishment. So, yeah…numb.
There were three brief days last week or the week before that I felt some pain and sadness and I thought that I was having a “breakthrough” but then I quickly retreated back to feeling nothing again. I have begun to feel like a robot. And to add insult to injury, I’m not sleeping well at all. Five hours of sleep feels like a luxury and so on top of being a robot, I am also a zombie.
Want to hang out? Yeah…I didn’t think so.
Today, however, I started feeling a couple of things again. I feel overwhelmed by negative emotions. I am sitting in a deep, dark pit of despair and I have no desire to climb out. I want to stay here and wallow. And for a while, I will. Don’t worry, I have a couple of people hanging around to pull me out when enough is enough.
So, what do I feel, you ask? I feel pain. I feel sadness. I feel frustration, hurt, confusion and (alright, alright) anger.
My husband, although unintentionally, abandoned me. I spent five years standing behind him and supporting his every move and he left me here. Alone. All I have left of him are little pieces that I’m trying to pick up. The person that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with, my forever love, deserted me.
The stigmas of society against mental and emotional wellbeing, PTSD and substance abuse have caused indescribable pain. Because it is socially unacceptable to talk about emotional struggles (especially as a man, veteran and firefighter/paramedic) my husband suffered for an unacceptably long time. Shame on you, society. These struggles are real and it is not just the afflicted individual who suffers from them. It’s time to open our minds and our hearts to this very real problem and accept that these heroes are still people and they have feelings too!
I am angry at so many people for seeing the struggles of others and turning a blind eye to them. Or worse, kicking them while they are down instead of offering to pick them back up. How dare you use another person’s pain to lift yourself up? Who do you think you are? And I sincerely hope that karma comes back to find you.
I am frustrated because life with my husband was not always easy and I’m afraid he did not know just how much I loved him. I would willingly trade my life for him to come back healthy and happy and able to use his story to create positive change in the world. And he totally would, too. That man would have stopped at nothing to help another person. I’m so mad that his life was cut short.
I’m also struggling with not knowing how he felt about me. I know what everyone keeps telling me he felt, but it’s not the same when it isn’t out of his mouth. I know how he felt in the beginning of our relationship, but our communication was strained throughout the tumultuous nine months and neither of us were very good at expressing our love. I sincerely regret that.
I feel guilty. For not being enough. For not being able to save him that night. For not doing this whole grieving thing right. And for feeling anger and frustration towards him. For questioning the bond that we had. What is wrong with me? How could I possibly question what I once felt so strongly?
But that’s what grief does. It takes everything you think you know and it jumbles it all up. Before you know it your bed is on the ceiling and the light is on the floor. Everything is turned around and upside down. And only when that moment hits can you really begin “processing” what has happened. Only then can you begin to claw out of the black hole you’ve been sucked into.
As for me, I think I’ll sit here for a little while. Maybe in this darkness I can finally sleep.