I started this blog so that I could process my thoughts and feeling and I guess, actions, with regard to my grieving of Dave’s death.
I feel that I have left a lot out.
I am having trouble being transparent. I am worried about judgments; I judge myself. There have been a few ah-ha moments that have been less than flattering; there have been some experiences that leave me wondering about myself. I have been burying these things away.
Do we need to confess our sins? Do we need to be transparent? Do we need to bear all?
I am currently reading Neale Donald Walsch’s book, "When Everything Changes, Change Everything" and one of the first things he feels we need to do is be transparent and have someone to share the journey through change with.
I have found great solace from online widows over the months; I have found solace in my friends and family. I have struggled with some people and I haven’t always been honest.
Does it matter?
I have been dissecting my relationship with Dave and my transition into singleness.
I have been having an identity crisis.
I have been having unexpected experiences and making unexpected decisions.
So - here goes - I am seeing other men.
I think that what is really important is not what I have been doing, but why I have been doing it. I long for and greatly desire human touch. I am very kinesthetic and sensual. I want to be loved and stroked and held. This for me is the hardest part about being a widow. I miss Dave’s touch. I miss the heavy breathing and the ecstasy of lovemaking. But I am not falling in love. My heart can’t go anywhere near that.
I am guessing that this is a phase of my grieving. Just like the drinking I did at the beginning. – ah ha – another confession. I have had a tendency to go a bit manic.
I am amazed at how other widows don’t do these things, or they don’t talk about it. There is something about the idea of a widow in our society – are we supposed to be all stoic and saintly? I drank way too much the first month after Dave’s death. I contemplated suicide for the first 6 months after Dave’s death. I sought sexual experiences 5 – 8 months out. I’ve been jumping out of perfectly good airplanes through the 7th month. This is such an unexpected journey. Really, I am a prude – I am a girl guide – I am passive and fear-based. But my behavior has been so out of character since Dave died. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I am not sure who I am becoming.
Another thing that Neale Donald Walsch’s book talks about is reflecting not on your story – but on your soul or your essence or who you really are. I guess I am trying to find that out.
Who am I really – now - deep down on the inside?
What do I want my life to be now?
So, I guess that I need to be transparent so that I can find out who I am and who I am not.
Oh Honey - I think we just show our grief in different ways.
ReplyDeleteI am depressed and not sleeping. and God Damn ANGRY. with the wrong people.
I dont' have the energy or inclination to seek out sexual partners or jump out of planes, but probably would if I thought it would help (plus having little kids kinda dampens both those ideas).
But.
I have sought out psychic connections which are about as far removed from what I used to do as I can imagine.
and I'm taking sleeping tablets - me - the drug-free-diva is on (prescribed) sleeping tablets (seriously - advil as about the strongest thing I've ever had as I shun pretty much most meds).
I'm just catching up on reading favourite blogs as I was on the road for so long this autumn. I agree with deardarl about how our grief manifests in different ways. My journey has been different - I just want to travel and spend time alone with my dogs. When I finally arrived here in Bisbee, I thought I wanted to become more sociable, but I'm reverting to my hermit tendencies already. I didn't drink when Don died, because I knew I would do a lot of traveling and that the two were incompatible. Ten years ago, when I was caring for my dad through kidney cancer while keeping his business running, I did drink - a lot. I guess I did not want to go there this time around. However, I did contemplate suicide and had a carefully devised plan worked out. However, a friend came from the west and stayed with me for a month while I made plans to leave on my first journey, so that circumvented any intentions. However, I was probably >|< this close to suicide the night that Don died as that seemed like as good a time as any to end things. But, here I am, carrying on. It's now been over two years since Don died, and I guess I am gradually figuring out who I am now. My hermit behaviour keeps me away from people, but that's okay. I think we all react to our grief in our own ways and there's really nothing wrong with that. I liken it to being a parent. Friends tell me that their parents were crappy and I say, "It isn't like there is a book that someone can read to be a good parent." Well, there isn't a book we can read to tell us how to do being a widow. None of us applied for this position or studied "being a widow" at university. We just have to figure it out and make it up as we go. You're probably doing just fine.
ReplyDelete