It's hard to believe he's been gone 3 years. The pain is still present, but just not as consuming. Nothing is "normal", but everything is different.
I have learned a lot over the last three years. A lot about others, about myself, life, death and God.
I have also learned a lot about time. Time is something that is different for everyone. We all have the same hours in a day, the minutes in an hour, and the same months in a year. However, depending on what we are experiencing at any specific time, time can seem faster, slower, to stand still, or to disappear.
We all understand that time can seem to move faster or slower, and maybe understand it standing still. But for time to disappear is a tough one to grasp.
Time disappeared for me, for a while. Time didn't exist for a while for me. I have found that it happens to more people than I realized once I started sharing this experience with others.
The hardest year of the last three was the second. Most people would think that the first year would be the hardest, but as hard as it was, it wasn't like the second year.
The first year is the year of just surviving. The year of finding a reason to live. Adjustments and learning to count on myself. I was so busy getting a grip on the things he used to do that are now my responsibility. I was busy planning and putting together his memorial.
The second year was the year that reality set in. The reality that this is permanent. This is my life, no one is coming to save me. I have to save myself. This is the year, I walked away from some friends and found new ones. I barricaded myself in my house more during the second year. cared less about my health, and slept a lot.
This is not the case for every widow, this is the case for me. It is the case of some other widows though. Everyone handles it differently.I couldn't control how I felt, no one can. You feel what you feel when you feel it.
During that second year, I didn't exercise or eat right. I talked to people when they called and went out when they asked, but I felt alone and lost. I wanted so much to be able to talk to him one more time, hold his hand one more time, watch him sleeping in his recliner when his back hurt him. I didn't care anymore.
I experienced "mental; isolation". Mental isolation is where you go through the motions of life. You have lunch when asked, do needed household chores, keep appointments, etc., but mentally you are not there. You feel nothing. You go through the motions, but you are not present. you laugh when appropriate, smile when appropriate, etc. Once I was alone, I either slept or cried. I felt disconnected from people I have known for years and also, my family. I still took their calls and invites, but only to hide how I was feeling. I didn't want people to know how disconnected I was because they may try to help me. I didn't want or need their help. I needed to work my way through this second year.
I did care for things though. I cared for my family (especially my granddaughter), my close friends, and God. Caring is not the same as feeling connected. I cared for them, but I felt alone, even when with them. Of the three, God was the true strength that carried me through.
Hebrews 13:5-6 KJV
states this truth:
"...for He hath said,
I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
At the end of the second year, I had a dream about my husband. I believe this was a dream from God.
I hadn't dreamed about him at all before this night. When I woke up from this dream, I felt different. From that night till now, things have steadily improved. Not all at once, but in bits and pieces.
The next year, the third year. I grew stronger and stronger. I revisited all the old memories again, but differently. I still missed him, but I slowly started to feel like getting out more. Taking the dog for a walk more. Making future plans. It was slow and drawn out, but I was at least headed in the right direction.
During the third year, I had a few set backs. There were a few days that I stayed in bed too long, said no to going out, or just withdrew and cried. But not as often and it didn't last as long.
Around the time of the third anniversary date, I went to the beach - alone. I realized during that week that a whole year had gone by and I had done nothing - again. I didn't take any trips, do any art, nothing.
So, I made a promise to myself that during the next year, I would do something new every month. One thing.
In January, I took an art class in the mountains and spent three days in South Carolina.
In February, I started a stained-glass class at the college.
In March, I hope to take a short day trip or a couple of days out of state somewhere. I need to keep the promise.
I am so happy to be out of the first year of shock and sadness. I am thankful to be out of the second year of despair and mental isolation.
Life is moving forward. I still have sad times but they are fewer and farther between. I am starting to feel connected to people again. I have so many wonderful people in my life and I thank God for each and every one of them.
I thank God for not leaving me or forsaking me.
❤️
Have you experienced "mental isolation" before?
If yes, when? What was the even that caused you to experience "mental isolation"?
I have learned a lot over the last three years. A lot about others, about myself, life, death and God.
I have also learned a lot about time. Time is something that is different for everyone. We all have the same hours in a day, the minutes in an hour, and the same months in a year. However, depending on what we are experiencing at any specific time, time can seem faster, slower, to stand still, or to disappear.
We all understand that time can seem to move faster or slower, and maybe understand it standing still. But for time to disappear is a tough one to grasp.
Time disappeared for me, for a while. Time didn't exist for a while for me. I have found that it happens to more people than I realized once I started sharing this experience with others.
The hardest year of the last three was the second. Most people would think that the first year would be the hardest, but as hard as it was, it wasn't like the second year.
The first year is the year of just surviving. The year of finding a reason to live. Adjustments and learning to count on myself. I was so busy getting a grip on the things he used to do that are now my responsibility. I was busy planning and putting together his memorial.
The second year was the year that reality set in. The reality that this is permanent. This is my life, no one is coming to save me. I have to save myself. This is the year, I walked away from some friends and found new ones. I barricaded myself in my house more during the second year. cared less about my health, and slept a lot.
This is not the case for every widow, this is the case for me. It is the case of some other widows though. Everyone handles it differently.I couldn't control how I felt, no one can. You feel what you feel when you feel it.
During that second year, I didn't exercise or eat right. I talked to people when they called and went out when they asked, but I felt alone and lost. I wanted so much to be able to talk to him one more time, hold his hand one more time, watch him sleeping in his recliner when his back hurt him. I didn't care anymore.
I experienced "mental; isolation". Mental isolation is where you go through the motions of life. You have lunch when asked, do needed household chores, keep appointments, etc., but mentally you are not there. You feel nothing. You go through the motions, but you are not present. you laugh when appropriate, smile when appropriate, etc. Once I was alone, I either slept or cried. I felt disconnected from people I have known for years and also, my family. I still took their calls and invites, but only to hide how I was feeling. I didn't want people to know how disconnected I was because they may try to help me. I didn't want or need their help. I needed to work my way through this second year.
I did care for things though. I cared for my family (especially my granddaughter), my close friends, and God. Caring is not the same as feeling connected. I cared for them, but I felt alone, even when with them. Of the three, God was the true strength that carried me through.
Hebrews 13:5-6 KJV
states this truth:
"...for He hath said,
I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
At the end of the second year, I had a dream about my husband. I believe this was a dream from God.
I hadn't dreamed about him at all before this night. When I woke up from this dream, I felt different. From that night till now, things have steadily improved. Not all at once, but in bits and pieces.
The next year, the third year. I grew stronger and stronger. I revisited all the old memories again, but differently. I still missed him, but I slowly started to feel like getting out more. Taking the dog for a walk more. Making future plans. It was slow and drawn out, but I was at least headed in the right direction.
During the third year, I had a few set backs. There were a few days that I stayed in bed too long, said no to going out, or just withdrew and cried. But not as often and it didn't last as long.
Around the time of the third anniversary date, I went to the beach - alone. I realized during that week that a whole year had gone by and I had done nothing - again. I didn't take any trips, do any art, nothing.
So, I made a promise to myself that during the next year, I would do something new every month. One thing.
In January, I took an art class in the mountains and spent three days in South Carolina.
In February, I started a stained-glass class at the college.
In March, I hope to take a short day trip or a couple of days out of state somewhere. I need to keep the promise.
I am so happy to be out of the first year of shock and sadness. I am thankful to be out of the second year of despair and mental isolation.
Life is moving forward. I still have sad times but they are fewer and farther between. I am starting to feel connected to people again. I have so many wonderful people in my life and I thank God for each and every one of them.
I thank God for not leaving me or forsaking me.
❤️
Have you experienced "mental isolation" before?
If yes, when? What was the even that caused you to experience "mental isolation"?
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