Being Politically (and possibly socially) Incorrect~

Here it goes.  Me being politically and most likely socially, incorrect.

I hate life.  I hate life without the man I love in it.  I have no interest in anything I’m doing (and I’m doing so much).  The only emotion I feel besides numbness, which isn’t even an emotion and doesn’t actually describe the baseline feeling of raw pain that is a constant, is emotional pain.  And physical pain that is the type I’d imagine someone feels when a limb has been amputated.  Phantom physical pain.  Except not a limb but my heart, which is still in my body and yet somewhere out there wherever it went when my husband died.  (Lying in pieces, shredded and bloody).  Mostly I’m neutral emotionally.  I walk and I talk and I do and I don’t do and its all the same to me.  Life without him sucks.

There.  It’s out.  I said it.  No bravery happening here.  No thoughts for my future.  Indeed, no care for my future.   I don’t give a rat’s ass for my future.  All I know is that I’m here at this moment, typing at my computer.  It’s another day here in Key West.  I got up.  I showered and got dressed.  It’s a rainy day but that doesn’t bear any influence on me.  I’m just here.

No, I’m not depressed.   I’m fucking sad.  I’m being brutally honest about what my grief is.   I’m telling you that as I talk to you, watch the sunrises and sunsets, see all the beauty around me, that what you see and who I am are polar opposites.  You’re not seeing the real me that is the blood and gore that remains of my heart and my soul and my joie de vie-all that was and now isn’t.

I wonder how many people who are grieving in this world (and there are legions), are too timid to speak such a truth as this because of the general response.  Our society compels us to get out there, make life happen, be filled with gratitude, pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, and on and on.  We are told “He/She wouldn’t want you to feel this way.  He/She would want you to love life again”.  And on and on.   None of with which I argue.   My response to that is mostly “No shit, Sherlock “. (no disrespect intended)  It’s what I would want for Handsome Husband if he’d been left behind.  Indeed, we spoke of this many times over the years-what we wished for the one left behind.

But tell me, how the fuck do I get from here to there?  How do I care again about life?   I’m paying attention to my life.  I’m creating a life, no matter how I feel.  I’ve done so fucking much since he died to make it happen.  And I’m also just letting myself be, letting the grief happen.  I’m doing every (pardon my french here) goddamnfucking thing I can do or not do.

In my head, back and forth, I remind myself constantly and relentlessly “He’s dead.  Just accept it.  He’s not coming back.  He’s gone.  You’re in love with a dead man.  Just walk.  Just keep walking.   But how can he be dead?  He was so alive.  He was just here.  How is it possible?  We had a life.  We loved each other.  We paid attention.   We didn’t take each other for granted.  He did everything right.  It doesn’t matter.  He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead”.

Over and over.  The reality running flat up against what my heart is struggling to accept.

For years I worked in hospice and in that time, I supported men and women whose wives/husbands had died and I’m ashamed to say that I thought at times “Well, at some point you’ll remarry and get on with it”.  I have deep shame at my lack of compassion.

The death of a partner is an unrelenting loss of every part of a  shared life.  Well, I guess it is if you actually love your partner.   It’s the bomb blast of your life.   Yes,  a person might find another person to love and be in love with but how shallow of me to think, as I counseled grieving widows, that allowing another person into your life might make that first person, and all the emotions that went into building a life with them, disappear.  How incredibly courageous and life-affirming, to even allow another person into your life, knowing the pain of loss that will inevitably happen again, at some point.

Handsome Husband and I loved, and were in love with each other, deeply.  We loved our kids in every way, our grandkids too.  We loved our parents and friends.  But the love we shared with each other was sacrosanct and separate and the most deeply felt.  Our life together was the most important thing to us.  We danced, we fought, we adventured, were impatient with each other, we made wild, passionate love, we held hands, we laughed, we saw each other at our most awkward moments and at our best, we supported one another in our dreams, we slept together with his body wrapped around me, we cared for each other when we were ill, we celebrated life together.

He was the keeper of my heart and I feel empty without him, more alone than I’ve ever felt before.  I write none of this to draw sympathy from anyone, or words of wisdom or support, but only to make a simple statement.  As Handsome Husband would say “It is what it is”.  And it sucks the big one.

The only way out is through.  1477702_595076270547311_490745363_n


8 thoughts on “Being Politically (and possibly socially) Incorrect~

  1. It so get what you are saying and I so wish I could give you a huge hug right now. My grief for my mom is a different kind of grief of that of wife losing her husband, but I totally understand every word you said. Nobody should every hold in their feelings and emotions but like you said when we let it out there WILL always be that one person (not on TOH) who will say you will get over it, you need to move on. I say to them…ummmmm…you have no fucking idea what my life is like or how badly my heart hurts. L❤️VE YOU!

    • Maria,
      It isn’t fair, but it IS life. I’m taking it one step, one breath, one heart beat at a time. And I know all the while how blessed I am to have such friends as you to keep me company along the way~

  2. 😔Alison, Hi… read your post at 6:30 this am. I felt frozen…it was so painful to read… for someone knew my heart…exactly…someone heard my thoughts…someone felt my deepest pain…exactly. I wept for you…and me. All… and I mean ALL… of what you wrote I feel…and have expressed to my widowed sister, and to my daughters, and to Travis, my lost love… and especially to God. I’m not happy to feel this way. I want to be proud of what we had, and appreciate life and be truly joyful again. I want to set a good example for my grown daughters. I want to use the love and life we had together for something wonderful…but everything is dull and whispers…Travis is not here…and sadness is all I feel…inside…for outwardly I try… We both had very, very special loves. It’s uncanny…or does everyone who loves feel as we do ??? No, we feel this way because we loved deeply and were loved so very deeply…and the price of love is grief…DAMN IT! Travis and I were married 33 years… It’s five years now…and I’m still…lost without him. Lee Ann Rimes’ song “How Do I Breathe Without You?” says it all. Just before the illness which led to leukemia began, I sang it in the car to him on our Friday night date, as he drove and as it played on the radio (I loved to sing, and I would do that often). I sang it then, and now I live it…and continue to ask that question…and maybe this is how…just the way we are…courageously…even with all the pain and awful missing-ness…one day at a time…one moment at a time…one step at time…one breath at a time… Alison…I should be offering words of encouragement, and hope…and I do wish that for you… and for all of us who are brokenhearted and grieve…but honesty of feelings is needed…it’s just the way it is…and we will get through this Godawful storm…and you know something??? WE WILL SEE THEM AGAIN…Alison, we must!…how could we not⁉…how could a love like that be over?…poof…no way…I will not hear of it…neither will you…so, let’s hang in there… together…through this fucking grief storm, through the tears, through the laughter…through the ache of missing-ness, through all that life is…until that SOMEDAY…when we meet again…that is our only HOPE. When we met, Travis was going thru a divorce, with two young boys, and living in Calif., and I living in New York. We had a long-distance relationship for a year and a half…endured many struggles…😭 We wrote letters…in one, he wrote SOMEDAY…SOMEDAY we’ll be together FOREVER… and OUR SOMEDAY came true, on August 21, 1976. In those 33 years, we were blessed with so many Somedays, so many dreams come true…Travis said forever…we will have Our Someday again… I hope I don’t sound too crazy…but, whatever, I understand how you feel completely, and am sending you warm hugs…and I’m not sure if you pray…it is a comfort for me (when I allow it, to be), but know that you are in my thoughts and prayers for your peace and strength and healing…hugs, Grace♥ ps…when are you getting a puppy🐩?😊

    • Grace,
      I think I’ve decided against a dog for now at least. I’m having a tough enough time caring for myself and don’t have the energy to even want to be responsible for another living thing. In spite of the companionship I don’t know that this way of life is conducive to having one. I might stay with friends or family at some point and can’t ask them to accommodate a dog as well. And if I were to get sick on the road, who would take care of it? So, I’ll continue on my own; I’m meeting so many people that I have companionship if I wish.

      I wish for you, too, Grace, comfort in the love that still surrounds you. You and I, I suspect, have so many commonalities to our stories and I’d love to sit with you someday and discover a true kindred spirit.

      May we be blessed in the New Year and always~

  3. Having been where you are and feeling like you do, its an eye opener for all those righteous statements we have all said at one time or another. Words cant be taken back

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