I am fast approaching the 'demarc' of Jim's death. I will be what they call a 'year two' widow. It seems this year has been a wave of emotion, and some so powerful I didn't know what else to do but go with the wave, ride it out and then stand up to see if more hit. Now, the waves still hit, but are more muted. I thought that riding the waves would lead somewhere. I even tried to lead myself there. But now I find myself nowhere. Nowhere that I know. I am feeling very empty inside.
Wanting to feel better or at least understand better and then someone says something or I read something or watch it on tv, and it all hits again. I want to scream at people don't fight you may not get to yell at him tomorrow. I do not want to watch the commercial about Uncle Al's sudden death and no health insurance and what will they do. I can't even stand to hear about someones dying when it is in a conversation at a restaurant or such.
The need to be strong, to hide these emotions because no one will understand them. If I voiced them I would just be the crazy widow lady. I understand that I can't, but I do anyway...in my head.
I think that is part of the numbness that is happening. I have woken up some morning and just not felt anything at all. No joy it is a new day or pain that it is another day gone. Just numb. I can go in, perform my functions at work and even joke around with people. But there is an inner shell that is still pretty numb, it is protecting the part that is still hurting very much.
I am going to share a post from a friend on one of the messageboards I visit. He lost his wife about 18 months ago. There are many things that he says that are exactly what I have been feeling.
This is such a strange place to be... the whole thing is strange... so I will state a really strange thing: I am truly beginning to feel the aftershocks of being widowed. That may sound like a no-brainer... but I guess I always assumed that somehow, someway... I would get back to "normal", whatever that means. Permanent altering is the only way that I can describe my state now. I feel out of place typically... like no one around me can really talk to me nor I to them.
I think differently... I can't observe myself from the outside... but people will say things to me occasionally that make me think I may be acting differently as well. It is not usually better or worse... but just different. I find different things entertaining now than I did before I was widowed. I find greater satisfaction in working in the yard, for instance. I eagerly await news from people... or phone calls. I find video games distasteful unless I am playing with someone. I have very few daydreams now... yet I think more than I ever did. The thinking produces relatively little forward motion in daily life. Let me explain.
Here is an example of this type of thinking. I had an almost vision the other day of "Being Alone"... It was less vision than over all body feeling. It was not frightening or even sad... it was just alone. Just singular. Not plural. Belonging to nothing. It hit me like a ton of bricks... almost a revelation, except that I thought I was perfectly aware of being alone before. Guess not.
I have experiences like this frequently now. It feels like stating the obvious in such a way as to be profound... yet... it remains obvious... and therefore I feel... not very profound. I feel I have been through a series of "The Big Duh" moments. These seem to be year 2 experiences. I can't remember anything like this happening before in my life.
I feel like I have a lot to talk about... but I am so tired of talking about it. I feel so tired of doing this work. It is exciting work, but it is so exhausting. None of my friends really want to hear about Dian anymore. Like Kim said on the "Things We Fear - Forgetting" thread, some of the friends I have now did not even know Dian. They know I am widowed, but it is difficult for them to put this into context with the me now. They didn't see the old me... nor could they see how much she meant to me. It is like I have this weird half context with them... they didn't know me when I was whole.
The loneliness has started to come in waves. Like clockwork, every night as I am wrapping up work I feel a growing sensation of my "hole in the chest" feeling. It is usually not severe... just always noticeable... always with me. I get used to it after about an hour has passed, and I have had a chance to say "Thank You" a dozen times for having known and been with Dian. I can't seem to ever really alleviate or fix this feeling of this hole in the middle of me. I feel sometimes like I am breaking slowly apart, piece-by-piece... it is not particularly frightening, but it can be uncomfortable in the extreme.