Day: February 22, 2023

Since 1992 I’ve had 3 members of my immediate family die by suicide. In December I lost my Stepmother and her husband to natural causes.

In January I lost my husband of 34 years.

I bring you all up to date because there have been some of his friends who keep telling me they know how I feel.

In short, they don’t!

These folks are trying to be kind and supportive. They wax on and on about how difficult it was for them to lose a sibling or a parent. Then they start telling me how I should live my life now.

My friends, those who really know me, have been very supportive and kind. They’ve taken a step back and responded instantly when I’ve asked for help. They’ve done what I asked, maybe made a suggestion or two to make things go smoother and then butted out.

They’re the ones, who like my brothers are concerned, but respect me enough to let me work through this gut punch in my own way. They’ll text or call just randomly to ask how I’m doing and that tells me I’m in their thoughts. They’ve lost parents and siblings, but they’re not banging on about their trauma. They’re providing a wall of strength, occasional guidance when asked, and staunch solid support.

The only people who know how I feel, are those who’ve lost their spouses. There have been a couple of folks who’ve come to me privately offering support or a shoulder. Some of them, I didn’t even know had lost their spouse. I thought they’d been through the more common event of divorce and were single by choice.

I appreciate their support and kindness. I think that them putting themselves in a position where my spouse’s death could reopen their old wounds takes a lot of courage. Maybe someday I’ll have that same courage, but I don’t see that in my immediate future.

To the people that would tell me, “I know just what you’re feeling…”

I say this.

Until you’ve bagged up shirts, pants, suits, ties, and shoes that you saw your spouse wear often, into garbage bags to go to a donation site. You have no fucking idea what I’m feeling.

Until you’ve occupied a house where the grim reaper’s handiwork is laying on your bedroom floor for 9 hours, You don’t know shit.

Until you’ve cried yourself to sleep out of guilt and loneliness after masturbation. No words, anecdotes, or over sharing of your personal drama even compares.

Until the future you’ll have to forge into alone yawns before you, almost everything you think you know is absolute and complete bullshit.

Nothing prepares anyone for losing a spouse that you’ve spent almost your entire adult life with. It’s massive! It’s a kick to the balls and the kicking just doesn’t stop.

Telling me “You’ll have to sell object X, Y, or Z,” to keep the lights on, mentioning a person’s name over and over but not providing a phone number after repeatedly being asked to do so isn’t helpful.

It’s cruel! Especially when the person you mentioned is hidden behind multiple websites with no fucking phone number on any of them. It’s also not helpful at all to keep saying that the objects in question are valuable. Duhhhh! I fucking paid for them! The objects in question are also not the kind of things that sell like hotcakes, especially in this economy. Which means these objects are not instant income streams. Despite what you think.

So for those of you who keep saying, “I know just how you feel,” shut the hell up!

You’re not being supportive. You’re not helping, all you’re doing is ripping the bandage off again and again and pissing me off. I’ve got better things to do right now than listen to you blather on about your trauma and attempting to use me as a free psychologist.

You deal with your own shit and leave me to deal with mine.

Yeah… There are some phone calls you just let go to voicemail!

I’m getting better at that every freakin day.