It has been 6 months since my husband's suicide. Half a year. We have celebrated several holidays and birthdays without him being with us. We will celebrate what would have been his 34th birthday next month. My children have lost teeth, grown taller and wiser. I have taken trips I would have loved to share with him. I have taken a trip that was completely for me. I have laughed and cried. Gotten drunk and high. I have put up walls around my heart. However, my heart is also more sensitive to others' pain and I find myself sobbing for strangers' losses. I have seen the goodness in people. Their willingness to offer support to my family has been a testament of humanity at its finest. I have connected with people on new levels. I have reconnected with old friends. I have kissed and been close to a man other that my husband for the first time in 12 years and liked it.
What I have come to believe is that connections are powerful. The people in my life make it beautiful. The family I have has been incredibly supportive. The friends I have take time to be with me. The people I meet in support groups understand my journey. And most importantly, my children keep me focused on what matters most in life. Each person that has shown up for me in their own way has enriched my life. I know I am not truly alone.
I feel like I have come a long way in the last 6 months. Initially after Jon's death, I was a wreck. I couldn't eat or sleep. I still occasionally struggle with feeding myself and with sleeping, but I'll take improvements as they come. I couldn't participate in conversations well because my mind couldn't hold onto thoughts for very long. That still happens, just not as often. Please forgive me if I completely lose my train of thought while we're talking or if I zone out and have to ask you to repeat what you said.
I'm so glad I had people here helping me for the first month or so. It would have been much, much worse without support. During the first couple months, so much made me cry. Which I'm fine with, truly. It was a severely traumatic event in my life. Crying is a release for me, so I didn't typically try to stop the tears. I let the feelings come naturally. I didn't want to bottle anything up just to explode later. And not all the tears I shed were in sadness. Many were in overwhelming gratitude for the kindness shown to my family. There was also plenty to make me smile and laugh. Silly trips to buy underwear, inappropriate jokes about death, spending time with family and friends. Now I feel like I don't break down in a teary mess as often. It still happens, but I feel like I have "ripped off so many band-aids" early on by facing things I knew would be hard, that now they hurt less. Things like watching our wedding video, and other home movies. Listening to songs we used to sing together, or just songs I know carry a lot of emotion. Watching movies I know will break me. Visiting the place he shot himself. When I can go into something I know will be hard on my terms, it makes it easier to handle. At least for me. The times when I'm blindsided by a memory have been harder to deal with. For example, Halloween morning, I went into the closet and started cleaning a few things out and saw where the gun he used was stored. I collapsed and sat and cried for a looooong time on my closet floor. I ended up texting with my sister in law for a while and she encouraged me to "come out of the closet." She said that everyone was waiting for me to do that anyway. It made me laugh and was just what I needed to change my focus and carry on with my day.
Early on, I had so many questions and kept searching for answers and something to make sense as to why Jon chose to end his life. I've been able to come to terms with some things, but not everything. However, I don't obsess about it anymore. I know some questions won't ever be answered. Other answers won't change the reality of him being gone anyway.
I have been able to enjoy the present moment more. I used to worry so much that it robbed the joy from what I was in the middle of. I still do it to some degree, but I have learned that there are no guarantees about how long any of us will be here, so I just need to enjoy what I have now.
There is no perfect way to grieve. Am I sad enough? Am I productive enough in my day to day life? Am I moving forward too soon? Not soon enough? Everyone's journey is their own. I feel good about how I'm doing and that's all that matters. I feel good that I can smile, and laugh, and cry, and make lunches for my kids, and talk to strangers about Jon's death, and offer support to others. I feel good that I haven't given up.
