As time goes by I am becoming more used to him not being here. While that makes things easier minute to minute, I hate it. He is starting to feel more like a memory than a real person.
I’m never far from my loss now. The ‘numb’ periods have gone away. When I’m home, alone, I tear up frequently and occasionally indulge in major crying jags. I don’t have a lot of energy. It’s not uncommon for me to spend most of the day in pajamas watching tv, reading a book, or browsing the web. If it weren’t for the dog, I’m afraid that’s all I’d do. I still have friends dropping in and pulling me out of the house. I know this is a good thing but my reaction when plans fall through is more often relief than disappointment.
I miss the boy so much. That loss is still impossibly huge. I realize now that I’ve lost other things too.
I’ve lost the convenience of having a live-in best friend and play mate. I can’t just suggest an activity now and head out the door. I need to find someone to do it with and arrange a time.
I’ve lost my handy man. If something goes wrong I need to fix it myself or pay someone to do it. So far I’m doing OK on the fix-it front. I’ve solved problems with the disposal, the ice dispenser and the garage door. While at some level these are empowering, they are also more intense reminders of my loss since they fall so clearly in the boy’s zone. Each tiny crisis brings an emotional response.
I’ve lost constant companionship. I can’t just look up and share a thought or a joke anymore.
I’ve lost the joy and security of knowing that there is someone in this world who will always be there for me and put me first. I am afraid now, of what would happen when my own health fails. Who will I turn to for support? And I miss the reciprocal aspect of having that person – being able to do little things to make them feel loved and cared for.
I wonder what the future holds. Is it all down hill now? I know that I will eventually get to a point where my loss is less painful but I have trouble imagining myself in a world where life is happy again. Yes, I can find hobbies and activities to fill my time but is that happiness? I think, if I’m going to find my way back to a world where I can be happy, I need to find something to want and to care about, and I can’t picture what that will be. I suppose the obvious answer would be to find another partner and maybe some day I will, but at the moment, the idea fills me with horror.
For now I’ll keep doing what I’m doing – spending the energy I do have keeping life’s day to day needs met, and attempting to live something like a normal life so that when I am ready to go back to living, I won’t have to start from scratch.