I’m almost two years into the loss of my beautiful husband of 30 years, and sometimes people ask if I’m “used to it” yet. The simple answer is, no I’m not. I’ve made efforts to move forward, I’ve joined different groups, adopted cats etc, and I do think these things have helped propel me me forward up to a point. But life still has this strange, positively ALIEN feeling… I feel like I’m just cobbling together whatever bits and pieces I can grab to build some semblance of a life and shore my broken heart up. Sometimes I enjoy some of those things; they help me feel okay for a few hours. But nothing feels settled - it’s not like “Oh, this is my life now and I don’t even question it anymore.” There is just no baseline of security - I don’t trust decisions I make and am scared of messing everything up and having no Ken to help me fix it. In my old life, I just lived my life with Ken…
I suppose that I thought that two years down the track, I’d be used to things a bit more…but I’m just not. I wonder when I will get to a time where life feels “normal” again, if I ever do… it’s still so bloody weird without him.
Does anybody relate?
Lots of love,