The whole thing feels so unreal and I feel as if he never existed.
Although there is full of evidence around me that
he so existed.
My husband of 35 years.
My only man since I was 20.
This not making any sense.
I still keep the same bedding as when he died almost a month ago
from terminal cancer- he had less than 2 months since the diagnosis.
After his death I slept 4 nights with his dead body in this same bed
where he stopped breathing.
Now when I go to bed I cover myself with tons of his old t shirts and
the bed is such a mess and I don’t care.
I cry because I am sad-for- what?
He is not here now and not in pain anymore-he can not know a thing
like when he was here in his body.
So I am sad about what? am I crying just because I am sorry for myself?
Is it all about what I feel?
Do I just want to feel -better?
So is it about how and where to source fun and pleasure in my life
instead of pain?
I saw the colleague of my husband. I could see he genuinely
missed my husband and I could feel his sadness, which gave me
sense of comfort.
Me and my husband were very private as a couple and did not really
have friends.(so he was the closest to a friend)
I was just happy with my husband and our boys in our little world.
During this terrible time my neightbours and healthcare professionals
were very kind and helpful and I cannot thank them enough.
They touched my heart and the hugs they gave made me feel better.
But-I don’t get hugs from men.Just because there isn’t any men around
me and when I got hug from this man-I liked it.
I liked the feel of man’s arms around me which I missed so much.
I think it felt special because he was grieving with me, he seemed to be rather sensitive type of person that made me feel the hug was a bit personal.
So is it-that?
Is that what I want, that feel?
Could it be from anything or anywhere and anyone-if its entirely about
my perception only-?
So when I cry, do I cry for my husband? Or do I cry for the things I miss-
like this feel I got from the hug?
I feel like he never existed, and I don’t really exist either.
nobody and nothing really exist.
But what really do exist is this sadness, pleasure, guilt, confusion.
They exist-and I feel like we are just vessels for these feelings
to happen,we don’t own them.
I think I’m somewhat trying to make sense to what’s happening.
I had a bad couple of days of crying.
I want this man to sit next to me so I can cry next to him,
as it seems like a possible thing to happen-opposed to bringing
my husband back.
But I probably won’t see the man again.
I don’t know what to do or not to do.
I certainly don’t know what I want to do.
I wonder when I can get back to life.