I had my life. I had a home. I had a beautiful yard. I had a husband. I had my best friend. I had a small little family I loved and cherished. I had a dream of what our future would look like. We had fun. We laughed. We fought. We made mistakes. We did good. We loved. We played. I had my life, and now that life is gone.
And now here I am. Me and the kids. Here we are living in a rental duplex that I truly thought would be temporary. Here we are trying to navigate this life we have now. Here we are without our complete family; us without him.
We struggle together, and separately to determine our future and to try and honour our today. To discover what it is we are supposed to do and who it is we are now without him in our lives. Without him in this world. This is now the everything after part. Everything after our person died.
It’s been just 6 months since he died. Yet it’s been the longest 6 my life. Since his death, well, honestly nothing much has happened, yet so much has.
I’ve focused on trying to get my mind back in order while helping my children to move forward. My son is to start college in January and he has worked hard at getting more shifts at his place of employment all the while treating the silent epilepsy that caused him so much havoc over the last year. I’m so proud of how far he’s come and hope he continues to grow. He rarely speaks of his father, but when he does, you can tell he’s been thinking of him for a very long time and is trying to sort out his own emotions.
My daughter has grown alot all physically, emotionally and mentally the last 6 months. She has become more empathetic and compassionate. Yet is insecure of her place in this world. She is turning into such a little soccer star! It’s healing, and daunting to see all at the same time. She misses her daddy so much.
I’ve been so focused on the children and trying to keep up in my career, I haven’t been thinking of much investment for myself. All I’ve been able to get through up until this point has just been the day. All I can do is just today and I can’t plan for tomorrow or worry about yesterday. I can’t. It’s overwhelming still and scary, and lonely. So fucking lonely.
I feel stuck in what feels like a strange place; a foggy unknown between my old life, and my future life. Everything here in this place feels fragile, unknown, vulnerable and unsure. As I process his death, the entirety of the loss for my children and myself, of our future and all our hopes and dreams, I realize, I cannot stay in this place for much longer. Or the fog will overwhelm me and I might drown.
I feel guilt. Whenever I get excited about a plan I have, there is this neauseas feeling in my stomach and my toes and legs go numb. That pang that starts in the middle of my gut moves through my limbs and soon tears are streaming down my face. I feel guilty because I am trying to move forward, and heart broken to be doing so without him with me, or him even existing in this world.
Because he felt things in his life were unrepairable, and he had no choice but to leave us. That we would all be better off without him, and could move on just fine. I feel guilty because though I fought like hell to get him help, and damn near made myself ill, it still wasn’t enough. He still died. I still feel like I failed him and in a way, moving forward feels like confirmation that I did.
Then there is the pain of knowing as we move on, the days he was alive, the memories we all shared, are all moving backwards away from us. He’s slipping out of my reach… again.
Yet I know I must move forward and make those life investments in order to survive and hopefully live again, and in order to show my children that life, even when it’s hard and messy and cruel, can still be full of opportunity, beauty and connection. That life goes on and we all deserve to create happiness for ourselves.
We can’t live in this fog covered hell space forever.
So I’m planning. For whatever our everything after and our new life is going to look like. I’m going to start making better investments in me. I’m focusing on me now and am trying to look forward a little more into tomorrow. Though it hurts, I have to let go of my past in order to get out of this space.
I know it’s not going to be easy. I know it’s going to suck. But it’s also going to be freeing and healing. And either way, it has to be done.
So bring it on everything after ….