It was 2 years for me on Friday. 2 years since I watched my wife die and 2 years since I set off down this unimaginable road. And what have i learned? In the first year it was that there are no easy ways, no painless days, that the road will morph and mutate become unexpected, unrecognisable, days lost in the darkness but always, always, circling around tethered to that immovable event. As time moves on the tether extends, allows me to spiral outwards, always passing the same points but each time a little further away a little more perspective, a little more understanding and acceptance. I moved through all the firsts, met them as best I could, took some kind of comfort in their terrible rhythm. Over that first year I really tried, tried to go out and meet life, tried to create tools and ways of living that moved me forward, it worked, I got through the year. I had made it.
And so the second year began, and with it a real sense of despondency and loss, there were no more firsts to look to, no sign posts to follow, just me and the vast expanse of time and life before me, alone. I sat with that, in that, for many months, lost, continuously revisiting the past, looking for meaning, looking for a way to live. And through those days it began to dawn on me that I needed help, that I had taken things as far as I could by myself, that if I wanted to move on I had to engage with myself and take action. I started therapy in late September, itās not been easy and something I never envisaged myself doing but it is beginning to bring clarity, a sense of agency, autonomy. Iām sensing the beginnings of balance, acceptance of the past along with the acceptance of a future.
This has been my experience so far, for everyone it will be different, but the lesson for me has been to keep trying, keep walking, keep building. Some things that work at the start will be useless further down the road, when they have served their purpose find other ways. Most of all, itās the realisation that I am trying to understand myself, and thatās been the real battle in all of this, who am I now and what do I want? And with therapy I feel Iāve started down that path of getting to know myself again. For me once the pain & guilt subsided, once the terror and suffering moved away, once i realised my wife would always be with me, thatās when I realised that it was just me now and I had no real idea of who I was by myself. It turns out thatās another journey all together, but one that Iām determined to continue on and one that all my experiences of my wife, her death, the grief, will inform and direct and allow me to reach somewhere that I suspect will not be as I imagine now but it will be a home none the less.