I’m 15 months out now.
When I think of my life, I think that things have really changed, that life is good, like things are heading in the right direction.
And they are. Things ARE good. Things ARE heading in the right direction.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m 15 months out.
I’m in my second year of being a widow. My second year of life without Mark. I do a very good job of putting the grief into a box.
But I find it’s affecting me in ways I didn’t expect.
I’m triggered easier.
And the one I notice the most is that other people’s grief hurts me. Regardless of my emotional attachment to the person grieving or the person they lost (or are losing) their grief hurts.
I find myself (especially on Facebook) sending out a quick little ❤ or a (((HUGS))) and then shying away from it.
I feel like I’m water on hot oil in a frying pan… skittering away from the source of the pain.
It’s not who I am. I want to love them. I want to be there for them. But as soon as I read about their pain and their loss, I’m skittering away..
It hurts. I hurt for them. I hurt for me and for my loss.