“I’m Pretty Sure You’re Worth Waiting For”

It’s been a while since I’ve had something hit me out of the blue and devastate me.

It’s been a long while since the grief overflowed, ripped through my chest and left me gasping for air.

It’s been a while since the last ugly cry.

If you are up to date on Grey’s Anatomy, you know Derek is dead, and it’s been 2 years and Meredith is trying to navigate widowhood.  The writers are doing an amazing job of portraying a young widow with children and portraying her realistically.  Ellen Pompeo is beyond amazing at this role.

Meredith has had some moments.  Some good, some bad and some ugly.  It’s to be expected.

In tonight’s episode, she had a moment where she took a step… and realized it was too soon.  And she freaked out.

And the guy she freaked out on simply worried about her.

He showed up at her house later that day and she apologized and explained and his answer was “Ok, you’re not ready, I can back off. But I’ll still call and I’ll be waiting because I’m pretty sure you’re worth waiting for.”

And that moment ripped me apart.

And the ugly cry hit.

I woke the baby. (Grandson visiting)

The crying baby woke the teenager.

And the teenager… OMG I have such an amazing young man.  The teenager came over to me and asked if I was ok and did I need a hug.

I took the hug.  And cried some more.  And explained to him that I just missed dad very much right now.

Because to him, I was worth waiting for.

Mark in Fruitvale

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Nights Are the Worst

I have four children.

They are 25, 23, 15 and 14.

The 25 year old has a son, and he lives in Edmonton.  His baby lives in Kamloops.

The 23 year old is due with her first baby in December.  She lives in Edmonton.

My 15 & 14 year old boys live with me.  They’re teenaged boys so they live in their bedrooms – and might as well be in Edmonton.

I live in Quesnel.  It is a min 8 hour drive from Edmonton – but in reality takes 10 hours with pit stops, gas fill ups etc.

So around 7pm, the boys vacate to their room… and I’m left sitting alone in my house.

There’s no other around. No adult to talk to. No one to share my day with (although some days are very boring, like today).  No one to just look over at and know that they’re THERE.

I don’t know how to live alone.

I never have.

But now, I’m alone.  Very alone.

I can feel the depression setting in. I’m silent, my ability to have conversations feels stunted.  I watch my widowed friends, my single friends all couple-ing up.  And I live in a town where I don’t have a circle of friends so I don’t have people to do things with.

I think that’s what makes the *alone* worse than anything.  Not only did I lose my partner, my spouse, my other half; I left my friends.

I don’t, for a moment, regret my choice to live here. My Metalhead Poet was worth taking a chance on. Love always is.

But I’m lonely, and struggling with the time and patience it takes to build a social circle.  Last time I had to, I had Mark with me to stave off the frustrations.

The loneliness is one that is understood and commiserated with by widda peeps everywhere.  But they’re all… elsewhere.

And the nights are the worst.

Grief Is Like the Ocean

Maybe I Should Up My Meds

The problem with having a diagnosis of clinical depression along with grief is not knowing when what you’re going through is normal grief or depression rearing it’s ugly head.

I haven’t had any anti-anxiety meds in 2 1/2 months.

I dropped my dosage of anti-depressants 2 1/2 months ago.

I’ve been doing well.

I made it through Christmas with a smile on my face.

Despite a devastating action by my ex, I made it through New Year’s alone… not quite with a smile on my face, but happy none the less.

And the last couple days… since the old man in the store, since I’ve been vocal about what happened to my husband…  I’ve been sad.

I’ve been tired, fatigued.    I’ve been struggling to keep focussed.  I’ve been lonely.

I have been sort of reaching out – but as it usually is when I’m in need, no one was available.   I don’t mean that in any derogatory way – it’s just what I need and the universe conspires to keep me alone to work through it, usually.

There was no one to talk to, really.  No one who *got* it.

It’s my birthday in 3 days.  And in 6… its the 3 year anniversary of the day he went into the hospital.

So… I wonder… should I up my meds?  Or should I just ride this out and hope that when I come out the other side, I am not failing school?

In the end… it won’t matter… grief is grief.  I”m pretty sure this is just another wave, but the temptation to mask it with meds is SO strong.  Because if I can’t feel… then I don’t have to feel.

But if I don’t feel… I won’t… and it’ll come back and get me later.

Grief Is Like the Ocean

I’m Lonely

I don’t know how to live alone.  I don’t know how to be alone in the evenings without another adult to keep me company.  I don’t know how to live alone without a small child or two or three to snuggle and read stories to and do puzzles with and do bedtime routines for.

I don’t know what to do when it’s just me.

Watch TV?  It’s boring.  We’re in midseason hiatus.

Watch movies?  I’ve seen most of the movies I want to in the free ones and the VOD costs.

Craft?   It’s lost a bit of it’s lustre… I don’t know who or what to craft for.

School work?  Yeah… that’s coming.  I can start on math… it’s self-paced.   Or I could read the books that I have and get a jump on what I’m supposed to be learning.

Coffee with friends?   Well… they’re all busy.  With lives. *sigh*

Cleaning?  I live in a tiny 3 bedroom basement suite.   Guess what?  It’s clean.  And fairly organized.  And the clutter is getting less and less because I just keep decluttering.

Work out?   Can’t do that all night.

I miss my husband. He was good company.   We would talk.  We would craft together.  We would play cards.  Play games.  DO stuff together.

I don’t know what to do with myself.

I’m bored.  I’m lonely.  And it leaves me restless, irritable and discontent.

Being a widow sucks.

There is so much I miss about him.   But his presence… that… I miss most of all.

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What Do You DO???

Seriously?

Widows?  Widowers? Single people?  Single parents, specifically?

What do you do?

How do you go from being married, together every night, falling asleep together, waking up together, to being … alone?

What do you do at night?   What do you do when the kids are in bed?  When the world has all gone home?

On the average night… My boys are in bed by 9pm.   What happens then?

There seemed to be a point to doing stuff before, now I can’t see the point in it.   I just. don’t. care.

And I don’t really want do anything.  There just doesn’t seem to be a point to pulling out the craft stuff, to doing a puzzle, to watching a movie… alone.

WTF do you do alone?  Really?   Because I’m getting bored with vacating into the computer and staring off into space.

Blarg.

I’m really just fucking lonely.  I miss having someone to talk to at night.  Someone to snuggle up to.  *sigh*

This wasn’t the post I wanted to start with this year.   But it’s 7.15pm and my kids will be going to bed soon, and I”m watching my son snuggle up to his girlfriend, and I realized that I’m fucking LONELY.  I miss Mark.  I miss how we were together.   I miss him so freaking much.

I miss him.  I miss our life together.

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