One vs Two

     Earlier this year as I started my journey as a widow, I turned to online support groups. They had been very helpful in our experience with rare medical challenges and I hoped they would be again. I was wrong. They instead were terrifying.  Being able to know that you aren't alone is one thing.   But hearing the tragic ways in which others have lost their loved one when your heart is already broken was too much for me.   Not only that, but one thing that can immediately strike fear and dread into someone going through the worst of experience of their entire life was to hear "the second year is harder." The horrible thing you are going through... gets worse!?!! How could that be possible?    It has haunted my thoughts.   There were a handful of people who disagreed, but it was common throughout all the groups so there has to be some truth to it.   I asked another widow I know in person, and she said the same thing.   Terrified, but also grateful as being blindsided by things getting more difficult doesn't sound ideal.   Grief is so... complicated... messy... confusing...overwhelming.   

     In September I decided to take a step away from this blog and therapy.   I knew that I had difficult days ahead and taking a step back felt like the right thing to do.   Taking a break from it to "simply be" has been helpful.   I have been blessed  with many friends, but most recently with a good friend named Jen who is exactly what I needed when I needed it.   She visits regularly and her visits give me something to look forward to.   She listens, we discuss all sorts of things and she doesn't judge or try to fix me.   (Plus we both share an irrational fear of alligators and wish they hadn't made it on the ark.)     After a visit one day she texted something that been swirling in my thoughts.    "I feel something different in you...I don't know how to explain it."   I agreed and said that I had been trying to figure that out myself.  

    As I tried to explain what had changed, I explained that things had shifted.   Nothing drastic, just a subtle shift.   Some better, some worse.    All I can think is that I've survived the difficult stage of early grief.   There are things so indescribable and painful about deep and early grief that I've determined it's much like childbirth.   Your body has a protective mechanism that tucks those memories and experience of the pain away so that you can move forward.  Waking up and facing another day without him is still a huge challenge, but there are feelings and sensations in early grief that I can't describe that have slowly faded.   I know because out of the blue they will surface again and take me right back.     Waking up with a heartache to realize it wasn't just a bad dream.   Manifested with what feels like a racing heart (but isn't), and pain that I feel deeply but not physically.  Thoughts racing through your brain so quickly and chaotically you feel like you are hanging on desperately in some wild chariot race.   Can't forget the widow brain, that fog so dense and thick.   Slowly it's improved, but still a daily struggle.  It's hard when I used to rely on my brain for so many things, to no longer trust that it can recall or remember things.   I have notes scribbled down everywhere in hopes they can help me remember something important enough to write down.   But sometimes even they don't suffice.    The sleepless nights combined with confusing nightmares that also make it difficult to separate them from reality.   Not to mention the emotional roller coaster that still often makes me nauseous.    Even feeling how I'm on the other side of it, I can't figure out what has changed, so I imagine as time moves on it will be more difficult to remember.   Not that you want to.   I really think that somehow we must forget that early grief, otherwise no one would ever love or marry again.   

     That slight shift of something different has also helped me to finally have a hobby.  Something to do to fill my evenings and weekends when I feel I have the energy and brain power.   I started taking quotes that I find and making them into beautiful images and videos.   I've started two YouTube channels (and various other social media platforms) to post them in.  One with everyday quotes, and one with quotes about grief and loss.  While it gives me excitement to watch a video random climb to 500+ views or to gain a follower, what really brings joy to my heart is a simple comment today on one of my grief quotes that said "I needed this".   Knowing I made a difference in the life of someone else going through a difficult time is a blessing.   

    So as I've thought about it these past eleven months, I've come to a different conclusion about the first year of grief.  Perhaps a year from now I'll have more insight.    I think the second year isn't harder, it's different.   The flipping of a calendar to a new month or year doesn't magically make things better.   There isn't a switch that's flipped where someone is suddenly done with grief.   If you loved deeply, the pain of grief is also deep.   It will forever be a part of you.   Time helps, yet it also hurts.   Slowly over time you find things that help with that hurt.   My life stretches out ahead of me, and it terrifies me.   Slowly I'm figuring out how to cope with this new life that I don't want and don't like.   One day I might figure out how to change that.   But for now, I'm still just trying to survive it.   One day at a time.