Ramblings of a Reluctant Widow

So I knew this wasn't going to be a linear process, that there would forward steps, backward steps and loop the loops in-between.   I'm troubled by the unpredictability of the roller coaster, it's like I've lost control of myself. As a self confessed control-freak that is not good.  Tuesday I went to work as normal, and was fine, did clinics all day and coped.  Yesterday, I woke with a sense of foreboding and the anxiety was rising even as I stepped in the shower.  By the time I was setting up my clinic room my heart was racing and I was having to do breathing exercises. Looking at my first patient's records I could barely concentrate on what I was reading, which made the panic worse as now I was worried about making a mistake.   I managed to see two patients and had the rest sent home, where I quickly headed also at 10.30am.  90 minutes I managed, out of an eight hour day.  Walking back to my car in tears I told Mark how much I hated what he...

Today I read a post on my widowed group from a guy who's wife died by suicide a couple of months ago.  He was saying that he's going to stop the arguing in his head, she is gone and it's a waste of energy. Today is a new day and he's going to live it!  2 months in. Now I'm not suggesting that he is wrong, or its too soon, or that I in any way know him better than he knows himself. We all grieve differently and we all process differently, of course.   What struck me was the comments on the post. Every single one congratulated him on the "big step forward" or the "positive post" or "sounds like you're healing and moving forwards" ie, the same mix of comments he could expect from wider society.  And it makes me wonder, why do we as a society so highly value the "moving on" and "moving forward" and "carving a new life" and "being positive" ....the sooner the better?  What about the value in lament...

  In her memoir about he husband's suicide,  Chase the Rainbow, Poorna Bell writes: "When someone you love dies.......you aren't just saying goodbye to them, you are saying goodbye to yourself. .....You slowly turn into something stronger. You realise what you have a choice over, and what you don't. You turn what you know into strength, you help others find theirs, and you are gifted a compassion that is so deep and limitless, at times it is the only thing that gives you peace. ......And although for a while it feels like this is all there will ever be, you look down and see you are different...." I am different. I'm trying to figure out who I am, who Sarah is after 22 years of being half of "Sarah and Mark" The couple so solid everyone thought we'd be the ones to make it til "death do us part" well we did....just a lot sooner than anyone expected.   So who am I now?  What I won't be, for very much longer, is a hospital optometrist....

"Just because I carry it well doesn't mean it isn't heavy"  A meme that frequently pops up on my social media feeds due to the groups I'm a member of.  It's true though.  Oliver told me the other day he had dreamt I was running a race carrying an elephant....and that is pretty much how it feels.  I'm carrying so much and I'm exhausted. I'm back at work and it is as I expected it would be.  ie "Oh great you're back...here's all the responsibility you had before you left and all the things that haven't happened since you've been gone and I'll be in my office if you need me....." My boss has been super supportive and understanding whilst I've been off, and has acquiesced every request I've made to help me return (change of days, term time only) but at the end of the day it's the NHS and if you're in, you're in and it's busy.  My colleagues would all say I'm doing great.  The truth is I am runni...

I'm sat on a bench in dappled shade in the church yard of the church Mark and I were married in.  The breeze is blowing gently, it is unseasonably warm for April. The only sound is birdsong. In front of me I can see Mark's grave, to my right is Bertie's; God's house is behind me. As the tears fall I'm thanking God for sunglasses. How apt to be here on Easter Saturday, the day between death and resurrection. The day of dispair, grief, confusion, anxiety. The day of 'what just happened?' and of 'where do we go from here?' the day the world lives in now as we wait for Christ's return. The day my life is in now. As I sat here just now, weeping and crying out to God to help me I was imagining Bertie and Mark sat either side of me in a family hug. I became aware of The Lord telling me that He has felt everything I feel. He has experienced betrayal, grief, fear, loss and righteous anger. He has been broken in body and spirit.  He knows. His heart breaks...

Today I went into work again, third afternoon of my phased return, and the first time I didn't cry!  I enjoyed using my brain and felt that I coped well. But, I'm aware that it was only three hours and quire removed from a 'normal' day in clinic in terms of the stress level and pressure.  So whilst I'm pleased with how this afternoon went, I'm still worried about how I'm going to cope when I'm no longer in the 'phased' stage of my return.. And I got home and really wanted to tell Mark all about it, how I'm glad it went well and how I'm still worried.  He would respond  'that's becuase you're awesome' to me telling him it went well, then give me a hug as I confided my fears. He would make me feel better, reassured and confident. I miss that, oh so much. Raeding to Oliver tonight he pointed to a picture of a rainbow, and a snail. He said they reminded him  of daddy and was sad we couldn't go pond dipping with him again.....

Twice in my life I've contemplated suicide. Both times I've thought of all the people who love me and realised I couldn't do it to them. In his book Reasons to Stay Alive, Matt Haig describes a similar experience. On the brink of jumping, he lists in his mind the people who love him. He wished in that moment that he didn't have anyone, because then he could jump and stop the pain. So why didn't Mark think that way? I know he thought about Oliver and I at the end, becuase he text me to tell me loved us.  So what then? Did he die thinking I didn't love him? I'd respond to a friend asking this that no, he didn't, he knew how much you loved him but his mind was sick and he died as a result of that sickness.  But I'm not my own friend, I'm in my own head over thinking and exhausted and greiving hard. So hard.