Another 'happy' Anniversary

Spiralling Downwards

I'm still low.

I go to work not feeling completely happy.

I come home and feel depressed.

I'm not really properly enjoying anything.

I go to work, I do the job, I play with/hug a bird or two, I come home.

I realise and appreciate how lucky I am but I can't shake this fuckery.

I walk the dogs while constantly thinking about John, thinking about us, thinking about our life, thinking about the past, fantasising about having it all back and everything being right and happy and wonderful again.

But it can't be and it won't be.

I went to Tesco this morning, my traditional location for a good cry. 

I didn't let myself down.

There I was in the wine aisle, trying my fucking hardest to concentrate on the bottles and not on the fact that, as soon I took a deep breath, I knew I was going to sob.

And I did.

This Thursday (15th August) is our wedding anniversary.

Had he lived, John and I would have been married for 4 years.

This November we would have been together 11 years.

I've been posting pictures of him on the Good Grief Facebook page (click here) leading up to Thursday.

I think it's probably made me even unhappier.

But I won't stop.

Why would I?

November 2002

As my life drifts into a sense of normality and routine, so I begin to drift into yet another unhappy place.

In the last 15 months (16 since he fell ill), I have been 'happy' extremely rarely.

Most of the time I am down, unhappy, sad, depressed, *insert negative word/words here*.

It's wearing.

It gives me headaches more often than not.

I'm so tired of it all.

Tired of the moodswings.

Tired of the anger.

Tired of taking it out on the dogs.

Tired of the crying.

Tired of the sadness.

Tired of the grief.

Tired of missing him.

Tired of wanting him.

Tired of looking at photographs while crying and wishing he wasn't dead.

Tired of going to bed at night and lying there feeling unhappy and sad because one side of the bed is empty.

Tired of waking in the middle of the night and crying myself back to sleep.

Tired of waking up in the morning and remembering.

Tired of wanting to be surrounded by people.

Tired of wanting to be on my own.

Tired of everything.....fucking EVERYTHING!!!!

Crushed

Today I was doing a bit of 'housekeeping' on my home computer, going through documents, deleting crap photographs I had taken, sorting my bookmarks, as you do.

I was busy organising and arranging and deleting when, without realising what I had done, the following web page appeared before my eyes - http://wolfieandrentongetwed.blogspot.co.uk

My first reaction was a sharp intake of breath, followed by disbelief, followed by a 'morbid fascination' to read the entire thing, followed by tears.

My lovely Hubby started the 'wedding blog'...it was a piece of fun, something to detract from the stress of organising the big day, to share it with our friends and family, to show them that he too was excited to be marrying me, as I was excited to be marrying him.

The 'One Year On' chapter is written by me.....I think you can pretty much tell how happy I was, how in love with him I was and how lucky I felt to be his, to be married to such a perfect, wonderful, incredible, happy, generous, jolly human being.

Since I 'stumbled' on this earlier today I have thought about nothing else.

It has 'crushed' me.

Ten steps forward, fifty back.

In one week, in 7 short days, on 15th August, it would have been our 4th wedding anniversary.

People probably want me to see the positive in this.

That at least I had him.

That he had me.

That we had each other, for whatever amount of time.

That we were lucky to have been so in love.

Well.....I wouldn't say him being dead is particularly lucky and I certainly don't feel fucking lucky having lost the love of my life, The One.

Lucky? LUCKY?

I don't want to 'feel lucky', I don't want to think about how we had it good for the time we were together, I don't want to look back and remember 'how it used to be when John was alive'.

I want John.

I want our perfect, wonderful, exciting, happy adventure of a life.

I want us.

What do they say? "I want, never gets".

The Doldrums

dol-drums (dohl-druh mz)

noun (used with a plural verb)

1. a dull, listless, depressed mood; low spirits

This, unfortunately, is how I am feeling, and pretty much how I have been feeling for some time. 

Before I go on, I am very much aware that I have a lot of positive goodness in my life......my job, my new home and garden, the dogs, my wonderful supportive friends and family, just being in Cornwall, etc, etc.

None of this makes me feel happy for very long though.

I haven't been truly, honestly happy since early April 2012 when John was still alive and we were together.

I have a day at work which I enjoy - I go home to the doldrums.

I have the beginnings of a social life - I go home to the doldrums.

My sister, brother in law and niece visited today - as soon as they left, I'm back in the doldrums.

And I'm tired, tired of everything and I mean everything.

2012 was non stop, not particularly positive, from the death of John to preparing to move to Cornwall.

I moved to Marazion and I knew that in 6 months I would have to move again, so I didn't really relax properly.

And now, here we are, my 3rd home in 14 months and I am really, really tired.

I don't sleep very well.

I haven't slept well for months and months and months.

Bed is such a depressing, lonely, unhappy place.

I can't lie in as I have the dogs and their bowels to think about.

I feel physically, mentally and emotionally knackered!

In the beginning it was fucking awful, however my life has most definitely improved since we left London and started again in Cornwall, but, although Life has improved, it seems that in reality, I have not.

I've returned to crying at some point or other nearly every day.

I miss John so much, I wish I could quantify it, but suffice to say that it simply feels like I'm constantly searching, constantly yearning, constantly needing and constantly wanting, but he's nowhere to be found.

I don't suppose I'm coping with this very well at all really.

When I'm alone I am once again overcome with grief and loss.

I'm afraid I see no way of making me feel better.

Taking a dip

I'm sat here, staring at my Husband, looking at his beautiful face, his handsome smile, those blue eyes that make me melt. 

My Husband stares back, but never does he speak, never does he look at me.

He remains the same, frozen in time, a snapshot of a man that once was.

A beaming smile on his lips, taken the day we were married.

In the last couple of days, I have taken a bit of a dip, another low.

I miss him.

My mind is consumed with the need, want, urge to speak with him, to touch him, to have a cuddle, to hear him, smell him.

I am, once again, constantly on the brink of tears for the man I love and lost.

I need him.

The blog 'chapters' are becoming less frequent so, in my mind, I've been taking this as a sign that things are getting better for me.....I thought so.

Or, as my mind is now trying to tell me, is it because, after 14 months, not much has really changed in my head, I am still overcome inside with grief and loss.

I just hide/deal with it better than I did in the beginning.

I still have days where I just cry and cry and cry.

However, for fear of repeating the same stuff over and over again, I blog less because I have nothing new to say or contribute to the blog.

If I am honest, I am still finding it difficult to come to terms with his death, that he is not here anymore, that we are not together anymore, that the man I am still in love with no longer exists in the real life.

Previously, I commented on the "He's here" post and that still stands, it's a comfort for me, but it's a double edged sword.....I am gardening and I want him with me, guiding me, helping me, holding me....even arguing with me about a plant's location would be better than not having him at all!!!!

Our bed is one of my least favourite places in my entire life - where once there was much love, there is now me (and two dogs!).

I sleep in a bed with one side that is never used.

I wake up in the morning to remember that the unused side of the bed is because John is dead.

I wake in the night sometimes wondering where he is, then I remember why he's not next to me - I cry myself back to sleep.

It's probably the loneliest place in the house for me.

I don't like it at all.

How do you put yourself back together when 50% of your relationship has been taken away, and the future you both had planned, for the rest of your lives, has been erased, rubbed out, removed?

I guess it takes a long time, with baby steps, more good days and less bad, eventually.

You will never know how much I miss this!!!

He's Here...

I think it's time we had a little bit of positivity, don't you?

I do....it's been too long.

The dogs and I are now firmly installed in our new home, a lovely little cottage, quite literally in the middle of nowhere, blissful, peaceful, quiet, healing.

We've been in here for 3 nights and already it feels like home.

As I've mentioned before in previous posts, I'm not a believer in the "he's with me, he's watching over me" nonsense, I never have been.

But.......

This new home is very John, it's much too 'Him' to ignore. Looking around the place, I can 'see him' pottering in the garden and cooking up a storm in the little kitchen. I can imagine him lying in the sun with a large Pimm's and a book, being cuddled by his ever faithful hound, Millie. I can see him walking down to the local pub for an after work pint. Perhaps it's just the familiarity that I now have a garden and a kitchen that are homely and 'user friendly' and so I can imagine these things, who knows.

However, it's a good feeling, it's an excellent feeling, it feels really good and, although John has never, ever been to this house and garden, it feels to me as though he has been here, a footprint has been left.

It's a strange but reassuring feeling.

And.....something I thought I would never, ever say in my entire life.....it feels like he's "here with me".

Moving On.....

I am in the throes of moving house again.

Another new home to settle into.

Don't they say that moving house is one of the top 5 stressful things you can do?

Yup, feels like it too.

My head is all over the place, one minute happy, the next sad....but ultimately I am excited, it's a cute little place and perfect for me and the pups.

I know not why but I am currently starting each morning with a good cry.

I don't know where it's coming from or why my body feels like it should be doing it, but it is, and I am.

It's been a few days now.

Perhaps it's the fabled house moving stress, who knows.

John is never, ever far from my thoughts.

In fact he's at the forefront of them.

The new garden is lovely and he would love it, it would become a tropical oasis in a matter of days (which is what I am going to do.....I will channel my Hubby and create something beautiful!).

I miss him.

I can't shake the aching sense of missing him so much.

I feel so far away from him....two new homes without him in them.

Moving again has meant coming across things that have been safely put away in a cupboard, things of John's, things of ours, things from our life together, things that just make me sob with grief.

Anyway, this is a 'throw away' chapter, nothing of much substance, I just thought I'd share.

I should be packing more boxes!!