When it is all just too much.....

[jwahlquist]

Are there ever weeks when you feel like you have done too much at once?   I have read on here that 5-6 months is a hard time.  I have been doing ok I guess or maybe not.  I don’t know.  I have tried to be productive.   My cousin helped me clear out our closet and the office.   The two places in the house I had avoided.  I got all of the cars put into my name and traded in two of the cars in on a newer car.    1 of the cars was my husband’s.   I cried so much that I am sure everyone at the car dealership thinks I am crazy.   
 

Today every fiber of my being was tired.   I stayed in bed nearly all day.  I feel like maybe I just did too much.  I hate that I can barely function at the moment.  I just want my husband back.  I don’t want money and things.   I want his love and my happily ever after back.  Some days I just wish so much that I could fall asleep and not wake up.       I know that Ryan would want me to be strong for our daughter but I just miss him so much.   I have a hard time catching my breath sometimes as missing him just physically hurts so much.  I want the hurting to stop.   

[Gail 8588]

I am so sorry you are in this pain.  

I know people here frequently comment that you just need to keep breathing and it sounds like a cliche.  But for me, there were times that I really had to just concentrate on breathing in and out to get through the physical pain of grief.  Like lamaze breathing gets you through labor pains.

Your journey will be uniquely yours, so your time frames may be very different from mine, but for me the entire first year was painful. Not every day.  Many days I was numb, like a zombie, but going through the motions of life.  Then some days I would fall into the abyss.  I would call them trap doors, like in a James Bond movie where the floor under someone's feet would open up and they would fall into some life threatening situation.

I would be going through the motions of life, and then all of a sudden I'd fall through a trap door into the abyss of grief, and I wouldn't be able to find any footing or hand hold to pull myself back to the world.  You selling your husband's car sounds like one of my trap doors. Your rational mind knows it needs to be done.  Keeping the car is not going to bring your husband back.  But when you actually go to sell it, it triggers the emotional, unbearably painful sense of loss. And you find yourself tumbling through the abyss, where your heart is breaking, your head is exploding, and you can't stop sobbing to catch your breath.  This is when you just have to concentrate on breathing

As time passes, I fall into the abyss less frequently, but at 3 and a half years since my husband's death, I still think there are trap doors in my future.

Peace,

Gail

[jwahlquist]

8 hours ago, Gail 8588 said:

would be going through the motions of life, and then all of a sudden I'd fall through a trap door into the abyss of grief, and I wouldn't be able to find any footing or hand hold to pull myself back to the world.  You selling your husband's car sounds like one of my trap doors. Your rational mind knows it needs to be done.  Keeping the car is not going to bring your husband back.  But when you actually go to sell it, it triggers the emotional, unbearably painful sense of loss. And you find yourself tumbling through the abyss, where your heart is breaking, your head is exploding, and you can't stop sobbing to catch your breath.  This is when you just have to concentrate on breathing

You are right.  My head knows that keeping his things isn’t going to bring him back.  But it still hurts a lot when it comes down to actually doing it.   I like your trap door analogy because that is exactly how it feels.......like someone pulled the floor out from under your feet.  I will try breathing but usually those are the times that my chest feels so tight that breathing is difficult.
 

I can’t imagine living through the first year at this point let alone 3. 
 

[foreverhis]

1 hour ago, jwahlquist said:

You are right.  My head knows that keeping his things isn’t going to bring him back.  But it still hurts a lot when it comes down to actually doing it.  

I'll tell you a few things that would seem crazy to most of the world.

I have left a number of my husband's things right where they were.  Slowly, very slowly, I let go of or put away this-and-that. 

Parts of some things have actually become useful items with COVID.  He had gained weight due to a bicycling accident many years ago, plus medications from it and age.  Well, several years back he was diagnosed with borderline diabetes and was having none of it.  His stubborn self decided that he couldn't fix his other medical issues, but he could darn well fix that.  So we went to "school" that our doctor prescribed (and insurance paid for) and learned a lot.  Over a bit more than a year he lost 30 lb and made some small changes, ultimately triumphing. 

All of his "big" pants no longer fit, including his flannel pj bottoms.  We shoved them onto a shelf "just in case."  When I was making a first set of masks for family and friends, I was desperate for ties.  Then I had an "ah-ha" moment.  I had left those oversize bottoms on the shelf.  They had twill drawstrings.  So I got in there, released the seams, and pulled them all out.  Now everyone has masks with ties made out of those drawstrings.  I made sure everyone knew that a little piece of him is helping keep us healthy.  They were all touched.  So I was finally able to take the pjs and toss them out.

Last spring (shortly before covid), I attended a yearly clothing and item exchange.  I didn't have many of my things to bring because I have only as much as is necessary to wear right now at 40 lb over my normal weight and I'm going to try to be able to fit back into my regular clothes by the end of the year.  But I kept looking at his ski parka in the closet.  It's a really nice one that he'd had for 20 years.  He always took good care of his things, so it was in great condition.  I also found a brand new pair of his favorite walking shoes.  He had normal size, but wide feet, so when he found a style he liked on sale, he'd snag an extra.  I finally put both the parka and shoes in the car and figured I'd decide when I got to the exchange.

It took every bit of strength I had, but I brought them in and laid them out.  About an hour later, a woman friend of a friend of a friend who I had never met came over to me.  She said, "Mary told me this parka belonged to your husband."  I said it had.  She said, "I'm so sorry.  She said he was a wonderful man.  My husband has been looking for a parka for a year, but hasn't been able to find one he likes.  This would be perfect for him.  Are you okay with that?"  I realized right then that I was.  She and I both had tears in our eyes when I told her I knew he'd be happy for it to find a good home.

Then last week, I decided to go through some of his toiletries again.  I've kept his hairbrushes and stuff like that.  I hadn't been able to bring myself to move his deodorant, but picked it up and opened it.  Right there on top was an underarm hair.  All I could think was, "That's part of him.  I can't get rid of this."  But I realized how absurd that sounded.  Like what?  I'm going to set up a mad scientist lab, use his DNA, and recreate him?  And yet, it pained me deeply to part with even that tiny part of him.

Sometimes things are more than things to us.  They are more than memories.  They are evidence of a life lived together.  They are evidence that our loves existed.  On the days that it begins to feel as if 35 years of my life (37 actually, from the time I met him) were a dream, I will look at those tangible things that prove, "Yes, he was here.  We had a life, we loved, and we belong to each other."  No one who hasn't been in our shoes can possibly understand why that is so important.

I don't think it matters one bit what anyone else thinks about it.

And yes, I'm sorry to say that 5-6 months was a really hard time for me.  I felt as if the baby steps forward that I'd started to take were erased and I was back to that first morning I woke up in a house that no longer felt like home.  I think the reality of life stretching out before me really sank in around then.  Everyone had gone back to their own lives, with their own loves, so I felt even more apart from the world than I had, which I didn't believe was possible.  It won't help much, I wouldn't think, but truly you are not alone in this. ((hugs))

[jwahlquist]

5 hours ago, foreverhis said:

It won't help much, I wouldn't think, but truly you are not alone in this. ((hugs))

Thank you.   It means a lot actually to know that others “get it”.  I have kept mostly clothes of his that I enjoyed wearing like his oversized flannel shirts.....well they fit him but are oversized on me.  I have gifted several things because that helps me part with it easier.  
 

I have kept some strange things like his electric razor.   I don’t use electric razors at all.  His toothbrush is still in the shower along with his razor.  I just haven’t been able to move them.  So I feel a little crazy sometimes keeping things that I don’t really have a reason for keeping.   
 

One of my friends called me just to chat today which was nice.  It helps to make me feel less alone too.  

[KayC]

Trading in the two cars was productive but very emotional.  I had to trade in a car we bought together...me for him, him for me, we laughed about it later.  That car had memories and emotional attachment to him but the valves were going out and it only got 24 mpg and I needed a commuter car.  The decision was wise but I too cried and cried!    Same thing when I had to get rid of his truck.  All I know is, he would be proud of me, for each and every decision I've had to make.  And he knows how painful it's been, of that I'm sure.

Sending you hugs!

[Missy1]

@jwahlquist I can relate to the feeling of maybe not doing to much. I agonize over the very thought of changing anything or getting rid of any of his stuff. It’s not really  like I am waiting for him to come home. It’s more that I need these things to remain the same to preserve our old life. I know they say it’s not healthy but I choose what is comfortable. I am choosing to go at my pace. 
These things bring me comfort, the smells, the feel of his favorite robe, seeing his shoes and shirts hung in our closet. I love it ALL, these are beautiful remnants of our life together. 
I have also been profoundly sad, more than usual, 5 months and 3 weeks ago, he left this world. Not sure if its marker but I feel like, living one day at a time has made me lose track of the passing of time. I don’t think about what day it is, what is in this month or anything except today. I am glad you posted about it, very emotional....

[Tash B]

I am very new to this, my fiancé passed away 1 month ago. It has been extremely difficult. I spent one entire day cleaning out his closet and his belongings. I stored them all in plastic tote containers until I am ready to go through it all. After such a simple task like that I was absolutely mentally exhausted. I came home and cried my eyes out and the next day I didn’t leave my house. You are definitely not the only one, I can completely relate to you. I’m trying to limit myself if I start to feel extremely overwhelmed I just have to deal with it the next day. Today I had to cancel his car payments and his brother wants to take on the payments and keep my fiancé’s car. While sitting across from the advisor at the bank I had to hold back my outburst of tears about 4 times. I just kept thinking how can this be happening? How is this my reality? It’s so hard to deal with and cope with. I really just think life is so bloody unfair and cruel. 

[jwahlquist]

5 hours ago, KayC said:

Trading in the two cars was productive but very emotional.

One was his car and the other was the last car we bought together.  So both were a little emotional.  We needed a bigger car with more room.  My daughter helped pick it out so at least we had some bonding time.  It also gets better gas mileage and will be better for commuting.

 

Sometimes it is hard to separate the physical items from the memories especially when I get upset.  I wish that if I kept everything he would come back.

4 hours ago, Missy1 said:

It’s more that I need these things to remain the same to preserve our old life. I know they say it’s not healthy but I choose what is comfortable. I am choosing to go at my pace. 
These things bring me comfort, the smells, the feel of his favorite robe, seeing his shoes and shirts hung in our closet. I love it ALL, these are beautiful remnants of our life together. 
I have also been profoundly sad, more than usual,

Everyone should go at their own pace.  For me, my closet no longer had a floor I could walk on nor was it organized at all.  It made me feel awful.  Now that it is cleaned and organized I feel like the things of my husband’s that I kept feel more special because I can see them.  The office was another room that was just filled to the brim with chaos.  Now that I can see his special collectibles and I can sit in the room and be with his things and my memories.   
 

[jwahlquist]

13 minutes ago, Tash B said:

I am very new to this, my fiancé passed away 1 month ago. It has been extremely difficult. I spent one entire day cleaning out his closet and his belongings. I stored them all in plastic tote containers until I am ready to go through it all. After such a simple task like that I was absolutely mentally exhausted. I came home and cried my eyes out and the next day I didn’t leave my house. You are definitely not the only one, I can completely relate to you. I’m trying to limit myself if I start to feel extremely overwhelmed I just have to deal with it the next day. Today I had to cancel his car payments and his brother wants to take on the payments and keep my fiancé’s car. While sitting across from the advisor at the bank I had to hold back my outburst of tears about 4 times. I just kept thinking how can this be happening? How is this my reality? It’s so hard to deal with and cope with. I really just think life is so bloody unfair and cruel. 

I couldn’t contain my tears nor did I try to.  I figured that if the salesman and manager couldn’t understand and deal with it then they didn’t really need to sell a car.  I was not going to apologize for crying.  Too often I do apologize for it like crying over my loss is some egregious act.   But crying is a natural part of my grief and not crying when I need to causes me to feel like I am going to explode.  I do have to say that the salesman was very understanding and polite.  He had lost his brother a couple of years ago and he said he remembered how hard things can be.  
 

You are right, life can be so unfair.  My wonderful, amazing, sweet, life loving husband died at 48.  While he was in the ICU, we met a family.  The mother had tried to commit suicide yet again but lived yet one more time.  The husband said he was sure that she would try again at some point.  So where is the fairness in that?   My husband wanted to live yet he died and she clearly wants to die yet she is still alive after multiple attempts.   I just don’t get how any of it makes sense.  

[BBB]

That's tough to do Kay but I have to give you kudos for doing it, that being not looking to the future. I find it impossible to not do that. I think of all the plans, I think about possibly moving to a new area, whatever it is I think about my mind automatically brings my wife into the picture. Every time. Then I have to pause and stop and tell myself, no she won't be here. Then I ultimately get to a place where I say to myself, then what's the point? This is brutally difficult. 

[KayC]

7 hours ago, BBB said:

That's tough to do Kay but I have to give you kudos for doing it, that being not looking to the future. I find it impossible to not do that.

In those early times the thoughts would occur, but then I'd put up the hand and go back to focusing on today, otherwise I was overcome with anxiety and that was not helpful!

[foreverhis]

21 hours ago, jwahlquist said:

I have kept mostly clothes of his that I enjoyed wearing like his oversized flannel shirts.....well they fit him but are oversized on me.

I too have kept my husband's flannel shirts.  He was tall; I am not.  He had broad shoulders and kind of long arms; I don't.  So his shirts are pretty big on me.  I wear them all the time.  When the day is cool or breezy, I'll wear a flannel to walk to the nature preserve or take a friend's dog on a little walk.  On cold winter or summer mornings or evenings, I'll slip one on and snuggle into it.  I did shorten the sleeves because I had to roll them up so much that they were uncomfortable.  I also have three of his hoodies, though not his favorite as our daughter pleaded for that one and of course I sent it to her, that I sometimes wear on colder days. 

I've told friends that if they see me slogging around in a ridiculously oversized flannel, sweater, or hoodie, they'll know I'm wearing part of my memories.  I'm sure I look like a child who stole her father's clothes.  The thing that makes it sweet is that when our daughter was a tween and teen, our house was the "girl gathering" place.  She and her friends most often spent time at our home because they and their parents knew they were safe, welcome, and happy.  We had simple rules and expectations (make a mess, but clean up after yourselves; keep the noise reasonable; no mouthing off; ask if you want to raid the fridge; no alcohol, smoking, or drugs, period).  Often we had girls overnight at the last minute.  The next morning, our daughter would raid her daddy's t-shirts, sweats, and old button down shirts or flannels.  We'd be sitting in the kitchen having a cup of coffee and I'd say, "Here comes your closet on parade, honey."  We'd chuckle as two or three or four girls would troop into the kitchen to say good morning.  Sometimes when I put on one of his things, I'll smile remembering those long-gone days. 

[KayC]

I kept my husband's robe and sometimes when I especially feel the need to be near him, I hold it.  I also kept his fishing vest, and a dress sweater (he was always a dapper dresser!) and a Norwegian hand stitched vest he loved.  I got rid of anything to do with his job, Carhartts, etc. because that place helped kill him, cracking the whip!  
I sent both of his kids each one of his sweaters, gave his Bible to his son, and his Baptismal certificate to his daughter.  It took me nine years to be able to part with it, but I gave his fishing hat to his best friend...I saw a tear escape from his eye.  I told him I always knew who I was going to give it to, it just took me until then to do it.