I hit THE WALL today.
I didn’t even know that was a thing. I’m trucking along, trying to find balance, trying to stay busy, trying to keep my sanity, when all of a sudden, WHAM. I run smack-dab into the most solid, mental wall I’ve ever encountered. I Googled grief and brick wall and was amazed at how common a thing this is for widows. The problem with this brick wall is when I hit it, all the wounds I’d been carrying that were scabbing over are now breaking back open again. And like regular wounds, there’s not a thing I can do about it other than bandage them back up and let time heal them.
I’m in the process of bandaging and I’m not very good at it. This is going to take some time and like everything else having to do with grief, there’s no damn guidebook when you need one. Just know that I’m not ignoring folks on purpose and I’m not dropping balls intentionally. It’s just the side-effects of dealing with loss.
Bless you Rhea! I have had a few meltdowns – wall slams – whatever you want to call those gobsmacked waves of sadness that new widows experience. This house is not the same, nothing is the same. I grieve over the loss of my husband of course – but I think the deeper grief is the loss of the life we had and the life we will not have together. I’ve living in a fog.
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The loss of the dream of the life together is what hurts the most.❤️