My fingers hover over the keyboard because they know my mind is a cauldron of mixed up words haphazardly collected as I walk through the fog that is this grief. In all those words I find one phrase….this sucks so bad. It has been 201 days since my husband killed himself. There are moments whenContinue reading “On the eve of his birthday”
Tag Archives: Widow
From Yesterday
I’m out of bed. So what? Big fucking deal. I’m back inside of day one, morning one, except this time there is no funeral to plan, no details of a military burial to go over, nothing to distract my mind from whatever the fuck place this is where nothing makes sense. Today I DoorDashedContinue reading “From Yesterday”
Doorways
Sometimes I feel like this blog should be called “Becoming a bitch: Life in the aftermath of suicide”. Or perhaps that term offends people, so I will change it to ‘Becoming an asshole after your husband kills himself”. This way people might know that becoming a widow isn’t just learning to fold this new title intoContinue reading “Doorways”
Layers
Life lays hidden, unpredictable Wrapped in layers of routines Blinds to open Dogs to feed Clocks to set Meals to eat They keep us safe We think Then one day, maybe a doorbell rings Are you his wife? This isn’t real Please have a seat I can’t He was found No he wasn’t Just downContinue reading “Layers”
Secrets
This isn’t some great piece of poetic prose. It is a raw accounting of the text I received last night and the emotions it forced from the safety of the corners where I keep them. I am physically ill. The tsunami of tears has been unleashed. I am sickened by how humans treat one another. Continue reading “Secrets”
Decisions
In those first 7 days after he died my world was a swirling storm of things to do tempered by the knowledge that a tsunami was coming. There wasn’t time to feel the feelings that show up in the aftermath of suicide. Still, they showed up, unpacked their bags and made themselves at home. IContinue reading “Decisions”
Old Friends
It’s Tuesday again. This isn’t something I think consciously when the sun ushers it in like clockwork every week. It’s something that sits in the chair in the corner of my room, patiently waiting for me to open my eyes. Even then it doesn’t announce it’s presence. It doesn’t say “hi” or “good fucking morning,Continue reading “Old Friends”
Good luck
I went to the store after work. I knew I needed to get out of the house. I can’t remember the last time I left. Oh yeah, I ran up to the garden center 8 days ago to get compost. I’ve been in this house ever since. Being at home day after day without muchContinue reading “Good luck”
Doorbells are dangerous
It was a regular Tuesday for most of the day: morning routines, animals to feed, news to read. I wont bore you with the details of my perfectly boring day. I don’t even mind boring days because it means that, for now, tragedy hasn’t breached the pretend walls I’ve constructed on a very flimsy foundationContinue reading “Doorbells are dangerous”
Becoming a Widow 