my grief

I have been reading up on grief. I suppose I was trying to find some explanation as to why I feel so crazy. My brain is constantly buzzing, like there’s a murmur of voices all at once but I can’t focus on a single thing. It’s frustrating and I just want things to go back to the way they were. What I am learning is that grief is a long process and that no matter what I have to go through this pain, heartache, loneliness, deprivation, distress, agony, fear, sadness and everything else associated with Dave’s death alone. No one can do it for me. Everyday I woke up and thought of Dave. I would text him something clever and wait. I would get up, make some coffee, and look at the shelves wondering what else I can throw out to make room for Dave. That was in the final weeks. But months ago, before I left to New Zealand we spoke so often about how we needed to keep in touch, how easy it would be to just let each other slip through the cracks, how we had a special bond and we owed it to the world and ourselves to not let it die. 😦 We would text each other sometimes 30x a day. He’d call me and we’d talk for an hour – at least until we realized it was cheaper for me to call him. We would plan a skype date and talk for two hours – how I miss the way he looked at me. Dave was my every day. He was my future and the other half of my heart. He was my anchor and my rock. The other day I was telling my friend that the only good part about how much I cry is that I know that love is real. I know my Dave. I love my Dave. I would trade anything… much of the time this still isn’t real. Of course, the worst part is that I cry, and sometimes i cry for hours. Yesterday I cried myself to sleep. I can’t explain the pain. People, I have read, often don’t comprehend grief. A sister misses her brother for different reasons than a father misses his son. A mother misses her son for different reasons than a wife misses her husband. But the girlfriend – well, most people forget about her. I have had friends tell me I need to move on, that Dave would want to see me happy, to remember the good things – IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN A MONTH!! If people could recover that quickly from losing their reason for waking up in the morning, well, I have to figure they know very little about life, or far too much about life. Dave and I were nearing the top of that mountain – it is a long way to drop. In San Diego in May, he suggested we get married this summer. He suggested that too in November… We were smitten. We were in deep love. And then it all got taken away. My everyday tasks are strange and unwelcome. I wake up in an empty bed, I get dressed and open the door. The world is still there just as it always was, but different, my source of happiness is gone. I shut the door and crawl back into bed. What’s the point? I do have hope I think still. I do believe that I can overcome his death, but I am still grieving Dave and everything else I lost as well. Dave – I don’t think I will ever stop grieving for him. I sleep because I’m exhausted. I sleep because I do not want to face the happy people who have no idea who he was and how I miss him with every inch of my being. I’ll sleep until I’m fed up. I’ll cry until I’m fed up. My mind will bounce around from emotion to emotion until the spin cycle of the cataclysm ebbs. I know many people don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone you love, but all I can say is that a piece of you dies and you end up mourning two people instead of one. You end up mourning your life that you were so looking forward to and the man who made it such. But everyone else goes on with their lives. I see them look at me and not understand why I don’t react the same as I once did, why I can’t just make the same jokes, be that same happy person, give them some love back. They go on with their lives and know that I am hurting, and I know that hurts them, but they do not hurt like me. I don’t want any of them to hurt like me. You see – my life stopped existing on June 10, the moment I found out Dave died. Nothing is the same. I am at the beginning of a new life and it is a beginning filled with incredible pain and a world around me that I do not recognize and do not understand. It is lonely and I am scared. But mostly, there is just so much hurt.


About humanbeen

I'm a has-been that was. I'm a dreamer that does.
This entry was posted in coping, crying, death, fear, grief, heartbreak, loss, starting over and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to my grief

  1. Shlo says:

    It won’t always be like this. I can’t tell you how long it will be, just that it won’t always be.

    I need to come see you. If only for five minutes, if only to give you one long hug and pass my energy to you so that you can temporarily rejuvenate to get through the next little bit.

    I should be passing through your neighbourhood over the next month or so. Would you send me a message to let me know how to find you, even if it’s just briefly?

  2. melody says:

    Sherri you are amazing, you may not feel like it now but you really are. Your right we don’t hurt like you but any one of us would shoulder the pain for you if we could. oxox

  3. Mary P says:

    don’t stop grieving because others tell you to. do it when you think you’re ready even if this will never be. you have your memories that nobody will ever understand because even if they knew your Dave they didn’t feel the same way about him. I wish I could help. I won’t tell you that life goes on, like you said, it’s not even been a month. take as much time as you need and even more. people are just trying to help because they don’t want to see you in such pain, yet there is nothing they can do but be there when you need to talk or a shoulder to cry on. I still think of you every day, I am sad for you every day.

  4. Cindy White-Wiltshire says:

    Sheri, you are doing exactly what you need to do. You lost the love of your life and for that I am so very sorry. I have been thinking about you and praying for you. I can’t begin to imagine what you are going through. What if my husband didn’t walk through our door one day? The thought sends chills down my spine and a knot forms in my throat. There is NO time limit for dealing with this. Keep on crying, researching, and remembering. Then tomorrow, do it again, and the next day. Somewhere down the road (and it does not matter how long that road) the pain and grief will be lessened and the happier times will fill your heart and mind more. You have friends who love and support you, and will be there for you when you need them to be. I may be far away in miles, but I’m only a facebook page away! Be strong when you can, cry when you can’t, and hold on to the love in your heart. Remember, that love was a gift from Dave….a permanent gift. He loved you, and his love will forever be with you….helping you get through what you need to and come out on top at the end!

  5. Michael (Miha) Medved says:

    Love and hugs, Sheri. Lots of love. My heart goes out to you. This journey on which you now find yourself… Know that I’m one of many who cares, and is lifting you with thoughts and prayers.

  6. I have been back here 3 times now and am completely loving the energy on this discussion. Thanks for a fantastic outlet to read high quality information.

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