Trigger Warning (TW): Suicide
For weeks and weeks after Tim passed, I would put my shoes on, put Sadie on her leash and walk past the spot where I found his lifeless body. Some days I would stop and cry, some days I would stop and talk, some days I just kept walking. I was emotional cutting or also known as torturing myself. Over and over and over again. Why? I have no idea. It was like I was in a fog and it’s just what I did every day, almost an automatic response. It’s like I was punishing myself for something I couldn’t control. Then one day I was reading about pain and suffering and what the difference was between the two. Pain we cannot control, suffering we can. I was causing my own suffering by reliving the worst moment of my life over and over again. I was causing my own suffering by trying to make it make sense. I was causing my own suffering by standing and analyzing everything again and again. I was causing my own suffering by putting my hand in the very spot that his heart took its last beat. The pain was bad enough, I had to end my suffering or at least minimize it.
My suffering could very easily be minimized if I just stopped walking that way every day. Go straight instead of turn. Go right instead of left. Instead, I quit walking all together. It was as if I couldn’t walk any other way but that way so I just had to stop doing it all together. This was my way to help my suffering. To ease my pain. What happened to my life is terrible, traumatic, devastating, unthinkable, and so much more. But I couldn’t change it... this is my life now. My husband died by suicide and I’m left to keep on living without him.
In 2 days it will have been ten months. Ten months since my whole life shattered. Ten months since I’ve heard his voice, seen his face, felt his touch. Ten months of thinking he’s going to walk through the front door any minute. Ten months of intense therapy, medication, tears and support groups. Ten months of waking up alone. Ten months of trying to process and accept what has happened to life. Has everyday been bad in the last ten months, no. I’ve had many “good” days and for those I’m thankful but even still feel guilty from time to time for life continuing on. Life doesn’t stop just because we are going through something. I can’t help but feel guilty for going on with life without him (yes, I’m aware I shouldn’t feel this way but I do).
I’ve made leaps and bounds in the last ten months because I put in the work. I see the doctors, I take the meds, I do self-care because I don’t want to be depressed forever. However, some days I can’t even fathom getting out of bed and facing the world. Some days I don’t even want to talk to a single person. Most days I force myself to do the things.
The ten months have changed me. At first, I felt like I didn’t know who I was. Who was Kristy without Tim? I was lost, I was confused, I was heartbroken and down right sad. As time went on, I realized I wasn’t lost but I was rebuilding myself. I wasn’t the Kristy before Tim, I wasn’t the Kristy with Tim, I had become Kristy, the 38 year old widow who now had to figure out life alone (I have a great support system so I don’t mean totally alone, I just mean alone without my main squeeze, my home team). Life after loss is hard, no matter who you lose in life. Life after losing your forever partner is harder than anything I could even think of. Unless you’ve lost a spouse, you will never ever understand how I feel or have felt. If you’ve never experienced a loss to suicide, you really will never ever understand how I feel or have felt. I feel like I got the double doozey... not only did my husband die, but he (well his illness) made the decision to leave this earth. How do you even live with that? How do you even process that? Truth is... you don’t.
Each morning I wake up and walk past his picture, a reminder that he is no longer here and he will not be coming back. Grief is weird, hard and heavy. It never goes away, we just learn to live with it, to coexist. Sure, eventually it will get lighter but it will always be there. Until my dying day, I will carry the grief of my husband. Some days ten months feels like ten years, other times it feels like ten days.
I do my best to put one foot in front of the other every day. To breathe slowly when the anxiety starts to increase. To distract when the intrusive thoughts are too hard to handle. To allow myself the space to feel whatever it is I’m feeling. To smile even when it hurts. We all grieve different, we all cope different, there is no right or wrong way to do any of this. You just have to find what works for you. I remind myself that everything is temporary and that I won’t feel like this forever. I’ve survived every bad day so far and I’ll continue to survive. I can do hard things, I may not always want to but I certainly can.
If you or someone you love is struggling with mental illness, I highly encourage you to seek out help. If you need resources, please let me know and I’d be happy to share some with you. Mental illness doesn’t just go away. You may be able to ignore it for a little bit but it will still be there. Don’t suffer alone or in silence. There’s help out there, you just have to reach for it.
Call/Text 988: Mental Health Crisis Line
National Aliance of Mental Illness: nami.org
American Foundation of Suicide Prevention: afsp.org
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