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Writer's pictureKristy

Good Grief, Charlie Brown!

Whenever Charlie Brown said this, it was his way of saying ‘bummer’. If you don't know who Charlie Brown is, we will save that for another day... or Google him. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said this phrase over the last three and a half weeks. As I deal with my husband’s passing, I’m finding myself in situations I never ever imagined, ever. Yet, here I am… doing them. What choice do I have? They need to get taken care of and it’s incredible the amount of things I personally have to do because I am his wife, things other people can’t do or help me with. So much damn paperwork and phone calls! Good grief…


I was at CVS to pick up my prescriptions (something Tim always took care of, he was there weekly picking up meds for the multiple illnesses he was battling). The pharmacist said, ‘how’s Timothy doing, I haven’t seen him in a while’. I felt my heart start to race and my eyes swelled up with tears as I told her he passed. I also had to cancel all his autofill prescriptions while I was there. There I stood, in the middle of CVS bawling my eyes out. I just couldn’t help it. When I was done, I sat in my car and just let them continue to flow. This is my life now. Good freaking grief.


The doctor’s office called the other day to confirm an upcoming appointment, I had to tell her that he passed. As the doctor’s assistant, she had to ask how to note his file… my heart starts racing and I start to cry as I say, death by suicide. Naturally, everyone says ‘our sincerest condolences, so sorry’ (I’ve noticed this is pretty standard across the board when you are informing people, it’s their auto response in business – good grief). Then, she mentions his upcoming appointment and in true Kristy fashion, I actually laughed and said, ‘yea he won’t be making it to that appointment’. Like really dude? LOL WTF – I’m unlocking a whole new level to my dark humor these days.


In these past three and a half weeks, I’ve have to relive his passing almost daily between all the paperwork that has to be done. Closing certain accounts, battling with the life insurance (that I was denied), signing papers as a ‘widow’, having to tell companies the cause of death was suicide. Take the knife in my heart and stab it over and over again, every damn day.


I find I can hold it together for the most part until I actually have to say the words, death by suicide. That’s when I can’t keep it together. I’m flooded with the shoulda, coulda, woulda’s. The emotions just hit me like a wave, crashing and slamming into me. I’m reminded how terribly broken our mental health care system is and how so many people are failed. Do you know that approximately 1 million people worldwide die from suicide every year. 1 million people with souls that just could not keep going. 1 million people that felt that it was the only answer. 1 million people that I can’t help but feel had too been failed by the system in some way shape or form. Some not failed by the system but the stigma. They don’t talk about the demons they are fighting inside because mental health is still a touchy subject. We need to be talking about this shit. It’s 2023 and especially after the pandemic, many people are struggling and suffering in silence. Good grief…


Tim was often open about his battle with depression. How he would be in bed for days on end because he just couldn’t get up. How he took a ton of scripts because that’s all they could do for him. How he’s tried almost every form of treatment (with the exception of ECT, that was actually next on our list). Apologizing to people for not answering their calls or text until days later or sometimes not at all because he was going through it. Tim was open because he knew others weren’t. By him sharing his struggle, he often would meet others that could relate but didn’t openly talk about it. I wasn’t as open about his struggles. People close to me knew the life we lived but I didn’t openly share with many. I was too worried about the judgement that would be passed… Even though I was witnessing so much desperation with my own eyes, I was afraid of the stigma, good freaking grief.


Well guess what, not any more. Our world can be mean and cruel and I want to share with the world how our life has been so difficult and how hard my husband fought before he felt he couldn’t fight anymore. How hard he tried until he was so exhausted, he just couldn’t keep trying. Not only will I be sharing things from his perspective, but from mine as his spouse as well. Mental illness doesn’t just affect the one suffering, it affects their loved ones too and I think that’s important to talk about that. We never truly know what a person is going through… when they leave work or a social event, we have no clue what they are going home to. Everyone deserves a safe space to talk about it and sometimes it’s nice to just have someone to relate to.


I miss Tim every day, every moment it seems… I talk to him daily, I am still anticipating him to walk through the front door, I still can’t believe this is my new life. Good grief…


My sister created this gofundme and it shares more about Tim and we try to provide updates there as well for anyone interested:

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