new here and lost

[kat]

My partner, Alwyn, died on September 10th at the age of 35. I watched him take his last breath. He had a very aggressive cancer that afforded him a horrific and painful death. The speed of the medical system went much slower than his cancer and they ended up doing absolutely nothing to help him, not even manage his pain on the last day. Delay after delay after delay cost him any chance to fight.

He was truely the best man I had ever met. Sweet, gentle and absolutely brilliant, he put me before anything else in his life. He had told me that I was the best thing he'd ever done. I have never told any other man that I loved them. We had decided in January that we were going to one day have a child. I had chosen the rings we were going to get when we got married. I had never wanted these things before, never liked children nor ever saw myself getting married. With him though, all my priorities changed and all we needed were eachother. The amount of times we had argued could be counted on 2 hands. Such a man did not deserve to go the way he did, nor did he deserve to be treated so passively by the system. Health care may be free in Canada, but the "care" aspect of it was certainly lacking.

Now, at 32 years old, I have nothing. No career, no children, and most painfully, no love of my life. It seems so cruel that I should finally realize what I really want only to have it taken away from me less than a year later. I am so lost and the pain seems to be getting worse every day. I know it's only been 2 and a half weeks... but I am so scared how much worse this will get. My parents had me move in with them to take care of me until I can take care of myself again... but I feel such pressure from them as they want to fix me. My mother, while I know her intentions are good and I am grateful she is here to support me, keeps asking me what I want. What I want is Alwyn and the question hurts every time I hear it.

I have found that speaking with others who have had similar losses helps make me feel less abnormal and more comfortable than speaking with those who don't know what to do or say. I had dinner with a friend of the family who is still grieving her husband after 8 years and it was the first time I was able to laugh at something and not have those around me try to keep me laughing or look so relieved like it meant I was "getting better". I'm hoping to find some of that permission to grieve here.

[ModKonnie]

My partner, Alwyn, died on September 10th at the age of 35. I watched him take his last breath. He had a very aggressive cancer that afforded him a horrific and painful death. The speed of the medical system went much slower than his cancer and they ended up doing absolutely nothing to help him, not even manage his pain on the last day. Delay after delay after delay cost him any chance to fight.

He was truely the best man I had ever met. Sweet, gentle and absolutely brilliant, he put me before anything else in his life. He had told me that I was the best thing he'd ever done. I have never told any other man that I loved them. We had decided in January that we were going to one day have a child. I had chosen the rings we were going to get when we got married. I had never wanted these things before, never liked children nor ever saw myself getting married. With him though, all my priorities changed and all we needed were eachother. The amount of times we had argued could be counted on 2 hands. Such a man did not deserve to go the way he did, nor did he deserve to be treated so passively by the system. Health care may be free in Canada, but the "care" aspect of it was certainly lacking.

Now, at 32 years old, I have nothing. No career, no children, and most painfully, no love of my life. It seems so cruel that I should finally realize what I really want only to have it taken away from me less than a year later. I am so lost and the pain seems to be getting worse every day. I know it's only been 2 and a half weeks... but I am so scared how much worse this will get. My parents had me move in with them to take care of me until I can take care of myself again... but I feel such pressure from them as they want to fix me. My mother, while I know her intentions are good and I am grateful she is here to support me, keeps asking me what I want. What I want is Alwyn and the question hurts every time I hear it.

I have found that speaking with others who have had similar losses helps make me feel less abnormal and more comfortable than speaking with those who don't know what to do or say. I had dinner with a friend of the family who is still grieving her husband after 8 years and it was the first time I was able to laugh at something and not have those around me try to keep me laughing or look so relieved like it meant I was "getting better". I'm hoping to find some of that permission to grieve here.

Hi Kat,

I am so very sorry for the loss of your beloved Alwyn. He sounds like a wonderful man. I'd like to welcome you here on behalf of everyone here. YES! You have come to the right place to grieve, rant, rave, cry, laugh, tell us Alwyn's story and post pictures or whatever you feel. We totally understand how the world is going on, while you feel like you are moving in slow motion or in some sort of other "reality." Two and a half weeks is not a long time. You will eventually feel "better" but you will never forget Alwyn or stop loving him. We understand that.

At this point, you may be simply trying to breathe and think, or not think.

Are you sleeping? Eating? Have you cried at all? Feel free to cry and cry.

We are here for you. Come back as often as you'd like.

ModKonnie

[kat]

Hi ModKonnie,

Thank you for taking the time to reply and for your kind words. It's strange; when Alwyn first got sick in April, I could barely eat or sleep. I ended up losing more weight than he did and I was never overweight to begin with. All the stress of worrying if he had cancer or not (they only managed to finally diagnose him in August) stopped me from taking care of myself. He was so concerned as well about my welfare but I kept on telling him that I would worry about myself once I knew that he was taken care of. When we finally saw on oncologist at the end of August and he told us he had maybe a year to live, I went to a local clinic and the doctor prescribed me antidepressants. That year to live sounds pretty good right now. I also could and can only sleep with a sleeping pill. If not, I'm up all night, like I was between April and August with only a couple of hours of sleep a night. After Alwyn died I was suddenly able to eat. Well, I eat what's put in front of me. Even though dinner-time is excruciating. Alwyn was a chef and knew what I liked better than I did myself. He'd make me dinner every night and wouldn't let me in the kitchen so he could surprise me with a beautifully presented and delicious meal.

And a lack of crying is certainly not an issue; I cry very often and have started to cry now even more. I think the shock is wearing off. My mother keeps asking how it's possible I haven't run out of tears. This is also the first time in my life I am not constantly thinking. I can't bear to. I have always tended to obsess and worry about problems. Now I just want my mind turned off because of the horror that he is gone along with the terrible imagery. I can't bear to think ahead and confront my life alone. I'm so scared to go back to live in our apartment but at the same time so want to be there with all his things.

Your description of this slow-motion or other reality is spot on. I just can't help but want to shout at all these carefree people around me how fragile life really is. It's so surreal how I feel so destroyed but all these other people's lives are just going on as usual. People I know get me even more frustrated. Even with something as trivial as on facebook. So many people reached out, attended his wake, left me and him messages but now it just upsets me to see them updating their statuses with stupid trivial things. I just can't comprehend how this happened and how I managed to lose him before we even got a chance to fight.

Last week I found out that his mother had put an obituary in their local paper. She hadn't realized it would go online and when I saw it I was devastated; she had forgotten to include my name. He had spent the happiest years of his life with me and I was forgotten in his obituary! I know she didn't do it on purpose, that she was not in the right frame of mind to be writing it and she apologized profusely. But it was yet another blow dealt. At least it prompted me to write a proper one and it suited him much better. Maybe I will post it here one day.

[ModKonnie]

Hi ModKonnie,

Thank you for taking the time to reply and for your kind words. It's strange; when Alwyn first got sick in April, I could barely eat or sleep. I ended up losing more weight than he did and I was never overweight to begin with. All the stress of worrying if he had cancer or not (they only managed to finally diagnose him in August) stopped me from taking care of myself. He was so concerned as well about my welfare but I kept on telling him that I would worry about myself once I knew that he was taken care of. When we finally saw on oncologist at the end of August and he told us he had maybe a year to live, I went to a local clinic and the doctor prescribed me antidepressants. That year to live sounds pretty good right now. I also could and can only sleep with a sleeping pill. If not, I'm up all night, like I was between April and August with only a couple of hours of sleep a night. After Alwyn died I was suddenly able to eat. Well, I eat what's put in front of me. Even though dinner-time is excruciating. Alwyn was a chef and knew what I liked better than I did myself. He'd make me dinner every night and wouldn't let me in the kitchen so he could surprise me with a beautifully presented and delicious meal.

And a lack of crying is certainly not an issue; I cry very often and have started to cry now even more. I think the shock is wearing off. My mother keeps asking how it's possible I haven't run out of tears. This is also the first time in my life I am not constantly thinking. I can't bear to. I have always tended to obsess and worry about problems. Now I just want my mind turned off because of the horror that he is gone along with the terrible imagery. I can't bear to think ahead and confront my life alone. I'm so scared to go back to live in our apartment but at the same time so want to be there with all his things.

Your description of this slow-motion or other reality is spot on. I just can't help but want to shout at all these carefree people around me how fragile life really is. It's so surreal how I feel so destroyed but all these other people's lives are just going on as usual. People I know get me even more frustrated. Even with something as trivial as on facebook. So many people reached out, attended his wake, left me and him messages but now it just upsets me to see them updating their statuses with stupid trivial things. I just can't comprehend how this happened and how I managed to lose him before we even got a chance to fight.

Last week I found out that his mother had put an obituary in their local paper. She hadn't realized it would go online and when I saw it I was devastated; she had forgotten to include my name. He had spent the happiest years of his life with me and I was forgotten in his obituary! I know she didn't do it on purpose, that she was not in the right frame of mind to be writing it and she apologized profusely. But it was yet another blow dealt. At least it prompted me to write a proper one and it suited him much better. Maybe I will post it here one day.

Kat,

I'm a thinker too, so when I am absolutely devastated over things, I have to turn my mind off, too, or I literally drive myself crazy. I'm sorry about his mother accidentally forgetting your name. Did you have a relationship with her? Are you still talking with his family?

I know that right now trivial and jovial things are upsetting; eventually, which may take a long time, you will be able to manage a smile. For now, I'm sure the shock is just now fading a bit. It's not been long at all.Of course you are going to cry, and even harder, for awhile. It's perfectly okay and normal.

You have some rough patches ahead of you, but know that you are not alone; we are thinking of you. There are others here going through similar experiences. Hopefully, they will be able to give you better advice than I can on how to cope. I've lost my father, a brother and a couple of very close friends, but I've not lost my soul mate.\

Are you able to work? Does your boss understand? Are your friends letting you talk and grieve at all? Would you be open to a counselor for help where you can just talk and express how you feel?

ModKonnie