Death is a Newborn

I am nearing the two-month marker of my husband's passing. I continue to cry frequently, sometimes I am able to choke it back down, other times it floods. There are days that I am still crippled and cannot remove myself from my bed. There are days that I conquer the dishes and Swiffer mop the floor. I am still in shock. It still doesn't feel real. I look at pictures and I am numb. Videos. Numb. It is excruciating to be numb when you know how much pain you are actually in.

I need time to STOP. I was starting to feel like the walls were closing in. The house is untidy, the dishes are undone, laundry is piled up everywhere, etc. I've never been claustrophobic. During my childhood, I had to sleep under the staircase in an unfinished basement, on a cot with a sleeping bag, for a year. I can't remember what I did to get that punishment. I probably blocked it out.

However, this crippling grief has started to take my clean home, and made it a messy one. I was sitting at my kitchen table, squished closely to the chair beside me, papers and miscellaneous things were pushed out of the way just to fit my laptop for work. My mouse didn't have room to be able to be used. I was feeling panicky and emotional. I hadn't gotten sleep the night before and I was a COMPLETE MESS...just like my home. Then a friend of mine said to me,

"Death is like a newborn. It is fresh, you're body is in recovery, and the newborn stage lasts a long time."

That immediately resonated with me. How did I not think of this before. It made so much sense to me when she put it that way. Being a mother of three...well, duh - it should. However, she continues to remind me that this is still fresh and I'm not expected to bounce back quickly. It is easy to forget and you hear about 'mom-brain' 'pregnancy brain' well now, let me introduce you to 'widow-brain.' I have put milk in the cup cabinet, left creamer out for the entire day, accidentally doubled a sauce recipe for chex mix, driven past places I am supposed to go to and so many more ridiculous things.

I've started to have a few good days here and there, the most being two in a row. I am still drained to where I feel lifeless, but I am still putting one foot in front of the other. I just wish I didn't feel so numb.

Last week, I started therapy. My sister-in-law recommended Sondermind. I provided a link to connect if you need to. This is not sponsored or a paid advertisement.

I put in all of my information and I had a few matches. I was looking for someone that would not only help with this most recent trauma, but also the trauma of my past. I chose the therapist with the credentials/specialties that I felt matched my needs the best. She recommended EMDR therapy. To explain in detail, please see the link below. This is not sponsored or a paid advertisement.

I don't necessarily understand how it works at this point, but I am really hopeful that this helps to desensitize not only this most recent trauma, but those in my past as well. I am willing to try anything to help. I've also signed up with a local group for a 13 week GriefShare cycle. One last link, in case you may be grieving and need resources. Again, this is not sponsored or a paid advertisement.

I am hopeful that days will continue to go forward and each one will feel a little better, but the guilt that arises from having good days is tremendous. Days feel like centuries and sleep feels like a blip in time. We are nearing the official second-month marker and it is causing dread and a sort of hostility towards life itself. I'm not sure how to put it differently than that right now. The various physical feelings and emotional mentality during the grieving process is confusing. It is important to remember that not one person grieves the same as another. I have a newfound respect for those who have lost loved ones. This has been by far the worst experience of my life and I wouldn't wish it upon anybody.

Lastly, do not rush this process. If you are grieving, let it take it's course. If you are on the sideline, don't hurry someone to 'get over it.' That could very well be the worst thing you can do. A wave of emotion may feel like a tsunami to one person and a ripple to another. Just as we each have our own fingerprint, we each have our individuality. Respect it.