seventeen years. . . of what?

D and I went out for our 17th wedding anniversary. The night was punctuated by me being unhappy. He tipped 30 % becasue I sent my salmon back. So dinner was a dissappointment. Then we went to smoke cigars. (Our time in the cigar bar would have been far more appealing sitting beside someone else). Buying boxes was fun but they needed a humidore to keep the cigars in for they were very dry. Afterward all hell broke lose and it is another experience that is best forgotten. It will be hard to forget this is our last anniversary. I will never be with anyone else long enough to reach 17 years nor will I raise children with anyone else. I will divulge that information gleaned from D made me all the more determined that he be removed from the chidren's lives. If my medication didn't keep me so numb, I would have to throw up. I will be far more inquisitive of people I let into my life. I found out things about him---OH GOD. He didn't have a chance and his chance with me was destroyed becasue of what he has lived. I cannot overlook it. Anyone with common sense would have gottem themselves out of the predicament that was my engagement because they would have realized that if the sight of someone raises your hackles then you may not want to be around them. I am going to continue on my medication since it enables me to remove myself and remain aloof until he is served. I have put all my paperwork in and have gradually moved down my extensive list of things to do so that I am prepared to be in charge of everyone and actually get them to cooperate. If we can get this house in Mimi order--I will consider my efforts successful. They should be here at any moment.

Here is the shortest way to express the mood for number 17:


What ia missing is more important than what is depicted. The girls loved the cigar boxes and I am going back to get some more. Iz took 4 and Gwen two leaving me with 2. I am also looking on ebay to see if they sell and what ones are worth the most. I got some great boxes and as much as I know that cock roaches love boxes, I cannot part with them. Speaking of, I killed white baby roaches today which precipitated research. I am doing everything I can to not think about my waking dreams. I kept trying to hug H3 and my arms were only grasping air. Thank God for Klonipin. It took two and pacing to bring my heart rate down. We were sharing a room together on Wimbledon Dr--something we never did. I am sure the fighting beween the girls and who is going to share with whom brought this about. None wanted to compromise. In a family this size, that cannot be. Just another issue to write down. . . . My Action list never shortens. I have dentist appt's again. I was sure we just completed them!

So very close: 1 year of grief

As I approach the one year anniversary of H's death, the anxiety that wakes me increases and I gasp from sleep to waking, catching my breath. I know not what clings to my dreams, only that the sense of loss is still so very prevalent in my life. I have been irrevocably changed--punctuated by repetition in every site I have visited in dealing with a loved one's suicide. I have been trying to work through the "what may well be the worst pain you will ever feel." (http://www.allianceofhope.org) There is no doubt that I miss H but the pain seems to be lessening. I have researched and commiserated, used biology to help explain how I am feeling. The memorial that surrounded me has slowly receded back into drawers and I no longer think about her every waking moment. There is no true closure but I have survived. On Friday-it will be one year at approximately 9:30 pm June 12th on a Thursday, one year ago, she left this earth. Her remains are mere ash but her memory is celebrated in every tear I cry. I miss you, baby sister.



What of my family? Each of us has been in our own private painful world trying our best to deal with this taboo. Suicide is not readily discussed and as often as I repeat what happened, I don't want to believe it. It makes no sense. I just need to read her journal, as sparse as it may be. Maybe so I can understand? Maybe for a release of any blame I place on myself?

According to http://www.recover-from-grief.com/stages-of-grief.html

•See, you're really not going crazy!

•Many others have had to travel this hard road before you. You are not alone.

•Grief is a long-term process, and you will have good days and bad.

•There is hope-- brighter days lie ahead for you.

•You will never return to your pre-grief state, but you will eventually find joy in life in new ways that you invent.

•There really are no true "stages of grief" and no time frame for mourning.





...in this second stage, you will come to a more orderly existence, but you will feel lonely and depressed, alternating with waves of intense grief. The "roller coaster ride" of grief. As long as your emotions are moving and changing, unpredictable, and "fluid", your grief is right on track.

Surrender to it, and let the grief take you where you need to go. Your grief is wiser than you.

This active grieving stage, suffering, lasts for months, and even intermittently for years. It is a normal and necessary part of grieving, and it is important not to avoid it, delay it, ignore it or suppress it. To the contrary, it is important that you experience it


RECOVERY-

New grief stages...

Many but not all who grieve start to see some improvement in their emotions after a year has passed. Acceptance and full recovery don't happen overnight. Your depression and despair will just slowly start to turn a corner and lighten up for you.

This stage is not the end of pain, but the ability to function with it and reconnect to the interesting and happy parts of life. Your great hurt will never be forgotten... it just recedes into the background of your life. Other more immediate demands will start to take precedence. Your son's soccer game will take on some importance for you once again.

And you may see ONE benefit from your grief experience... a new appreciation for the preciousness of life and a new-found ability to live life in the moment.


http://www.recover-from-grief.com/new-grief-stages.html

Here is where I sit.....as Friday draws near.


"We find a place for what we lose. Although we know that after such a loss the acute stage of mourning will subside, we also know that we shall remain inconsolable and will never find a substitute. No matter what may fill the gap, even if it be filled completely, it nevertheless remains something else".
--- Sigmund Freud (1961)




"I'll cry with you,"
she whispered
"until we run out of tears.
Even if it's forever.
We'll do it together."


There it was . . . a simple
promise of connection.


The loving alliance of
grief and hope that
blesses both our breaking
apart and our coming
together again.

Molly Fumia, Safe Passage