Hoping For More Sun

Photo Caption: "Trying to still see a glimmer of sun."

I am providing an update here because I don't want to leave anyone who is following in the dark. I still hope that my words and experiences have some value being put out there, even though my life has been difficult since widowhood. I took a gamble to try and make it through another year in the area even though I knew it would be very hard and maybe even impossible financially. But I gambled so my son could finish out his senior high school year. I did try and find a family for him to stay with here while I moved last summer and fall. But that option just didn't fully materialize. To now look back and try to punish myself by saying I should have done things differently isn't helpful and adds to my misery. I continue to believe as I always passionately have, that people make the best decisions they can at the time, based on their experiences and the choices at hand.

When you are living life to the barest bone, one unexpected or unplanned event can just send you to your knees. The saying that people are only one paycheck away from disaster is true and probably now more true in this unstable economy.

The past week has been emotionally trying. I know myself. When the situation calls for helping others I am able to rise to the occassion. But when I need to pick myself up, I don't do such a good job. I tend to be immobile and shocked into inactivity when I am under extreme stress and worry. I am not able to focus. I dwell on the negatives and am plunged into this pit of dark thoughts, hopelessness and despair. Whereas some faced with hardship propel themselves into a whirlwind of activity, I am not even able to hold a crochet hook in my hand. I become this zombie like creature.

After existing in this state the later part of the week, on Sunday I broke down and called my girlfriend asking her if we could meet for tea or a walk. She scolded me for not calling her immediately when I lost my job and felt I needed two glasses of wine, her treat - forget the tea. She was kind to me, which is what I really think we most need when we're facing difficulties. She told me that in her opinion, I HAD made it and gotten my sons through high school. And she reminded me that as long as she has known me, since my oldest was five, that I have always reached out and helped others. When you're down and out, it is good to hear positives about youself because right now I sure am not seeing myself in a good light. And we need to be reminded of the complete person we are. All of us have strengths and weaknesses. Living through a bad situation doesn't reduce us only to our less desirable characteristics.

I took this personality quiz recently that figured out one's life strengths. I was a little surprised to see that my top strength was seeing and seeking out life's beauty. Now I am not an optimistic person and since childhood have seen the glass half-empty. But I guess seeking out beauty is something different. And since childhood I have always looked for beauty - every day. In puddles in the parking lot, in a store window display, in the cut or color of a woman's coat. Whenever I am out and about in the world, I take pictures with my phone and those photos have included puddles, window displays, clothing and the sun on a recent walk peeking out from the trees. I open a JJill clothing catalog and the photo arrangement of a set of sweaters, highlighting the rainbow of colors, captivates me. I find beauty in the the ordinary and it surrounds me even now. So that is what I am going to try and focus on - my strengths - the little things that do serve to empower me. Be they written words in a novel, the touch and feel of a hank of pure wool yarn or the surprises that greet one taking a late-winter walk as the sun sets and snow melts.

Ripple Effect

My son's Valentine gift arrived in the mail yesterday. I am surprised the decorative rock was not damaged as he used one of those padded envelopes. I found the card and gift very touching and they certainly arrived on a day when I needed some cheering up and hope.

On Monday, the restaurant I work at was closed. It was unexpected. I worked that day cleaning the interior and packing. Also, on Tuesday. That helped - being with some of the others I have known the past year. We were able to commiserate and talk to each other. The mood was sad and co-workers were upset. I am surprised at how quickly it takes to dismantle a business. By Tuesday the signs outside the building were gone. I thought of the people I have met and gotten to know - the weekly regulars. How there was no warning and no chance to say goodbye. Even for this piddly little low-level job I felt a sense of loss. This job provided us with groceries for the past year and gave me a sense of direction and purpose for getting up each morning. I was supposed to start serving, which would have given me extra coming in via tips, which were pretty good - some servers were making $500.00 weekly. I would have been happy with anything!

I think about the ripple effect. How so many people will end up being influenced by the close of this restaurant. The ones hardest hit will be the hourly employees and this in turn will impact families having to struggle even more. Despite what news reports state, I don't think we're out of the woods yet economically as a country. Businesses are still failing, people are still out of work, others continue to lose their homes.

Although I fared pretty well Monday and Tuesday, yesterday was a bit of a crash. I had been told that I could "transfer" to another location but met with one of the other managers who told me there aren't any slots open. Another woman my age (server) was also told that there is no guarantee she will receive any hours at a new location. Some co-workers reported that the local businesses and restaurants said business is slow and they aren't doing any hiring now. Then I started to catastrophesize (sp?), as I do when under extreme pressure and fear.

It is a horrible downward spiral - I become immobilized and anticipate the worse - we will become homeless, I'll have no food for my son/sons, we won't be able to drive (no gas or $ for car insurance). "Tsk, tsk'" people wag their fingers. Put on your brave face and smile and start pounding the pavement again. I don't feel inspired, I feel defeated, broken and unable to stand. I was just trying to last a couple more months before I could move. To have to rise up yet again and pull it together...

I am still waiting to hear if they can use me at another location. I think I qualify for unemployment, although it is a very small amount. I am realizing that I am not a strong person in the face of adversity/stress. I do so much better with a partner. In all the years of marriage, I never acted, felt, responded, thought etc. like I do now - empty, exhausted, hopeless and weak. Sometimes I hate this person I have become in widowhood.

The hardest part of the past few days was driving home on Monday and Tuesday knowing there was no one at home to talk to about all this. That is what I miss the most - having a person who has got your back and your best interests at heart when you face a setback.

I am more resolved than ever to upgrade my social services qualifications so I can work with the under-privileged, those hurting and under-served. Having been there, I will never be one of those "tsk, tsking" with disapproval. I also know that when I am out of the woods and on my feet again, I will kiss the ground every day I wake up and say a prayer of thanks. I just have to get there and it looks like the road is still a bit longer - I haven't been given a shortcut for these final, couple months. It sucks, it is hard and I am just plain tired of this life. Widowhood in and of itself under the best of circumstances is a challenge.

X and the Unknown Factor

What better photo to represent the letter X, one of the definitions of which is 3: an unknown quantity. Also, 1: the 24th letter of the English alphabet and 2: the roman numeral 10. I have no idea what this photo is of. Actually it looks a little scary to me. So it is a totally unknown subject to match the definition of an unknown quantity.

Hate the unknown. Just want some predictability and stability in my life. Life is an open book, life is an adventure, throw caution to the wind. I hear these phrases and think they might be good for those people needing a little excitement in their lives. But I've had enough in mine. Opening that door into the unknown has ceased to entice me. I'm not sure I want to find out anymore.

Fear

What do I fear? What have I always feared from childhood on? Being alone, unmarried especially, being rejected; having a lack of stability in my life. As I thought about this I came to the realization that I am living my deepest fears. I am alone. And while I don't really mind being alone, what I really mind is the unmarried label. I want and need to belong to someone, to be a part of a team. I was rejected by my second husband and that event shattered me to my core because it so closely followed the death of my husband.

Sometimes I overcome my fears. My losses have resulted in my being far less consumed by petty annoyances. Many times I say, "What the heck" and go out on a limb to say or do what I really want to - because I have nothing to lose. But other days, l am stuck in my fears, afraid to meet someone new, or go somewhere by myself.

Oftentimes I reflect that I really need to lose this defeated attitude. Having already encountered my deepest fears and to have lived beyond them, one would think that I would have long outgrown them.

To get what I most long for - stability, love and partnership will require me to face fear again and become vulnerable. It is a risk getting hurt when there has already been so much hurt and pain. To start over. Many times it is easier to just stay with the status quo and let life remain as it is. But then I realize I shouldn't be complaining about my life because I'm not doing much to change it. And I don't want to complain and I want my life to change. So the only option is to face the fear and risk the possibility of pain because there is always the potential for more. I'll keep my eyes and heart on the hope for a prize instead of expecting defeat.

To Those Living in the Light

I continue to reflect on the fact that I have been comparing myself and my life to that of others, who have it seemingly better. I read that we tend to do this when our lives are in the pits and I would agree with that - when times are especially challenging and hope is at a minimum, fear rampant. I've tried to take all the recent comments received and think on them with positive intent. But I continue to believe that life situations, problems and so on can be rated. I guess I am curious as to why when we live in a society that consantly "rates" events and things, that it is somehow so awful to compare yourself with others who have led less complicated and sorrowful lives. We rate and classify our driving insurance premiums, our weight, our blood pressure, heath, credit ratings, grades in school, academic as well as sporting ability, and looks., etc. Many of these "ratings" are beyond our control. So are some of the things that happen to us and befall our lives like the big "D."

And there are differences in situations and levels of grief. I don't think it is necessarily a bad thing to admit this. It is an observation, not a contest. An observation that yes, we look at the death of someone who dies at age 90 having lived a very full life differently from that of a person of 25 who dies. Death is crummy either way but I feel safe to say that it is significantly more sad for the 25 year old and their family.

Many of you wrote that comparisons serve no real purpose. In thinking about that I would say that one of the purposes they do serve is to hurt the person making the comparisons. The flash of envy I feel for the baseball mom pulling up in her Lexus doesn't pain her, but it does send a stab of hurt into me. I have determined that maybe some of the reasons I constantly set out my list of woes is to reassure myself that it isn't and hasn't been all my fault. My comparisons are in a lopsided way a kind of last ditch effort to make myself feel less to blame for what I've had to experience if that makes any sense. It makes me feel less of a failure and that I am a "bad" person deserving of having a husband who died and another who cruelly left me. Maybe pointing my finger at someone more fortunate serves some sort of survival purpose for me because I do believe that we engage in behaviors that at their core serve some value even if it may not seem that way to others.

Anger, resentment, frustration and even rage are all normal reactions to life stressors and grief. My problem is that I currently lack the skills to transfer those powerful emotions into something more constructive and healing. I can't just snap my fingers and stop feeling envy. I can be conscious of it when I feel that way and try to divert my focus elsewhere when it happens but it just doesn't happen immediately. The grief self-help books out there all acknowledge the reality of our emotions but I have not found any with step-by-step suggestions on how to "work on" these issues when they loom up out of control. And in this case, are my feelings really that abhorrent or deviant when the entire situation is taken into consideration? For a rough period of time when finances were stretched to the limit and I was in the constant company of the "Baseball Moms," I indulged in some comparisons and self-pity. I didn't neglect my sons, I was out there cheering the team and doing my best to stumble forward. I didn't yell at anyone or emit insults. I quitely obeserved, obsessed and was sad. Now the tide will slowly turn and I'll try to grapple with this issue to be able to more constructively move on.

What is ending up bothering me the most now that all the dust is settling, is that those of us truly suffering with a huge amount on our plates of bad stuff, are supposed to be somehow more virtuous than others. I'm supposed to act and feel normally and not make any waves. I'm supposed to be able to rise above the pettiness and jealousy accepted as a matter of course in other people's behavior.

One of the reason I continue these reflections is to give a voice to those out there suffering beyond the initial loss of a death - those struggling with other conflicts and hardships - multiple layers of grief and loss that stretch out the traditional mourning period for many years. That is a factor in all of this. Years of grief is wearying and tiresome. Strength and hope become buried and lost. To be grieving and hit with another bombshell and then another ends up with its own set of consequences. Bereavement becomes a bit more complicated, drawn out and frustrating. Especially when life keeps plunging downward instead of improving.

The Rabbi Pesach Krauss advises in "Why Me? Coping With Grief, Loss And Change" that it is futile to tell people what they're doing wrong when they are in the midst of feeling grief and despair. They will not be able to accept or process any advice. The key is to provide sympathy such as "I hear your frustration and upset in regard to the unfairness of life. And I know you are dealing with these painful feelings in an effort to get through and beyond them." He also believes that there are those of us who will reach for the light and those of us who will get buried in our bitterness, pain and hurt. I admire the great many of you who are valiantly moving toward and living in the light. The jury is still out on which direction I'm going to end up.

Feeling down and sad

Today I am feeling sad all round - disappointed that no one is reading this blog. I had really hoped for a way of connecting with others in similar situations and garnering some support but I am green at doing this sort of thing (computers, blogging) and am pretty much winging it. Blogging has served as a means of journaling my experiences/feelings and that has been extremely helpful on its own. I was having trouble putting pen to paper and found it much easier to blog so in that way this has served a purpose. I have been reading some blogs and have found it very helpful to realize that others share my feelings around the world. It has made me feel less alone and connected to the collective spirit of the Universe.

Last night a dear, close friend invited me to attend a dinner he is going to be having with clients but I passed on it because I just cannot put aside all the fear, grief and anxiety I am currently feeling. I just want to hang out with people I feel comfortable with and know. It seems unfair to everyone to be putting on an act to be in a social mood and all. And I have the worry that I won't be able to pull it off and end up ruining dinner for everyone (another worry is that I might drink too much because I am feeling fear, grief and anxiety) and will end up embarrassing my friend and ruining dinner for everyone that way.

So I suppose the question of the day is how to continue moving forward and living while being consumed with all these negative emotions. I presume the answer lies somewhere in the middle. Being honest with oneself and others as to the state of my situation and how I feel about it while not being morbid and clinically depressed and moping around all the time. Easier said than done. I guess I'll have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and see how it goes. See what works and what doesn't.

Today I am grateful:

1. That I keep getting up and facing another day.
2. For friends that have stood by my side through this difficult journey.
3. For the opportunities (like this one) to connect to others around the world - that is pretty amazing!

Sleeping with all the lights on and other oddities

When my husband died, beginning that very first night, I started sleeping with all or most of the lights on in the house. This went on for months. Before his death, even though he had spent very long stretches in the hospital, I had felt safe because he was still alive. Once he died, I realized how vulnerable and truly alone I really was. I became afraid. Frightened of every small sound inside and out. Frightened of ghosts, intruders, animals (no doubt with rabies), storms and the dark. I was pretty much fine during the day, but when night and darkness descended I almost became another person.

During this time (those first months after he died) I would fall asleep with my clothes on having not brushed my teeth or washed my face. I would sleep fitfully and wake up in the middle of the night and then being unable to go back to sleep, I'd read for a few hours.

Now as I get through the first months of my divorce, I am repeating some of the same patterns. By 8:00 p.m. I am exhausted and lie down just for a moment to wake up to find that it is 1:00 a.m. and I am still fully clothed. I am sleeping fitfully and restlessly. Not good, solid sleep at all. I feel all those same fears returning but this time when I wake up I go downstairs and turn all the lights off. I think back to what the divorce mediator told me - that having already survived the death of a husband at a young age, any future hardship should be easier to get over. I know he meant well and was trying to be encouraging but I do not agree with his reasoning because grief is grief no matter how many times you have to feel it. But I understand that I do have some experience with what it takes to survive hurt and pain.

Maybe a little wiser, that's all. The anguish of being rejected so cruelly is especially painful. I think after my husband died that I thought I would receive some kind of future immunity from further pain or suffering. It would bypass me in the future because it had already reared its ugly head. Well, that theory has certainly been a total bust as evidenced by living through an exceptionally difficult five-year period.

So, many of those awful feelings we all so much want to avoid have returned as I face this new loss. The same symptoms, the same pain, the same weird sleeping habits. Only this time I am turning off the lights in the house because I know he isn't coming back. When I think of those first months following my husband's death five years ago, I am struck by the realization that perhaps my leaving the lights on had less to do with my fears but more from my mistaken hope that if only I left them on, he would find his way back home to me and the boys.

Today I am grateful:

1. For all that my husband's death has taught me (I could just have a post on that).
2. That I realize what is truly important in life - love, relationships, family, personal growth, integrity, honesty, kindness, compassion - certainly not fame and fortune (although of course we need money to survive).
3. That I didn't waste my personal "wake-up call" which came when my husband died. I have tried to live my life as a better person since his death and will continue to strive even more so in the wake of my divorce.