Lavern it is eight years now since i lost my husband to a stroke and previous to that my partner then my mum to cancer. I fully understand the pain and the sheer exhaustion that goes with it.
Being strong is one thing, but what people see outside is not whats going on inside and i think perhaps what we consider being strong in societys view is not the best way to react for us, yet we do it because that is the way our society works.Being told how strong you are while inside you are screaming or having panic attacks means you start putting up a plate of armour between them and yourself and become two different people - and at some point you may end up wondering if you are going mad and if you are somehow grieving "wrongly".Coming here means you start to recognise that although everyone grieves differently and every grief is different, and there is no "wrong" way that you are far from mad and far from being alone in what is happening to you.
Like you i was very much reluctant to ask for help or admitt that i was struggling - luckilly for me on this last occasion i found this site and it did help a lot, just having somewhere to write things down was a help as well as the replys i got, but i also ended up being persuaded to go to my GP who put me on the list for bereavement counselling - i had no faith it would help and it doesnt stop you gerieving or being in pain it isnt a "cure" but perhaps helps you clarify and make sense of things and find ways to rebuild the ruin that is your life.
One thing i will pass on that she said to me is that if you imagine this happened to your friend - you would want to help any way you can and you would mean it but perhaps not know what to do or say, so one thing you can do is ring and suggest a coffee or lunch or something - maybe if they have a certain job or are good at something practical use that to open communication, and let that be the chance to talk more rather than ring and actually say you need help .
She also said that offers to help are a present from some-one and yet i was rejecting that present and even though that rejection is nothing like the hurt i am feeling it is still a form of hurt which i am repeating, until they stop trying to give me that present.
I still miss my husband every day and i think we dont stop grieveing but learn to live with it but also i have continued to include him in my life in a happier way, sharing memorys with my grandchildren, even those that were not born then are interested - more so than i imagined,i planted part of my garden as a corner - not a sombre cemetary type thing, but his favourite plants and a water feature bird feeder and bench somewhere just to sit and be me, being surrounded by the natural world and by him in a different way from the physical. My eldest grandson helped me do that so he is invested in it as well and the others just like to sit in there in their less manic moments so he remains real for them and so he does for me.
Its a rocky roller coaster ride of pain and fear, and there are many ups and downs along it, i am not the same person i was and there were times i really disliked the person i thought i was becoming but that person changed too and i have learned along that journey as well - how to be alone but not constantly lonely how to overcome anxiety,how to collect those better moments so i can remember when depression hits that i can get out from under it again, and in doing the things we enjoyed together, those we talked of doing but didnt, and some he would have liked, that i wouldnt have bothered with/terrified of, so there have been adventures, and in a different way he still pushes me forward and guides me.
One of the things that really hit me was that having been his carer between stokes i was redundant as a person, the kids didnt need me they had full lives, and i had actually spent all my adult life being some-ones carer starting with my gran when i was 16 - i had absolutely no idea how to be anything else, that there was actually no point in me being here and at 49 i was on the scarp heap.- I was working but my job was very much work to live not live to work so there was nothing in that i could see then that was actually useful to anyone except the boss. Yet i have found a way to use those skills to help others, that i was blind too back then,and even when we imagine our grown up children dont need us sometimes they do - and it isnt just about need, its about want,and defining ourselves purely by how much we are needed is flawed.
keep coming back, keep writing it is your journey but we will be here to try and help you get over or around the worst parts of it.
