Christmas

I'm so very glad Christmas is over. One less first on the list before this year without Shaun is over. I realized that it doesn't matter how long I live there will always be firsts. First seconds, first thirds, first forevers. It is so strange to love and live and at the same time grieve and be sad. I wonder if I'll forever be of two minds.

No one and I do mean NO one has the right to judge me for how I am grieving and moving forward with my life. There is not one person in the world who is going through exactly what I am going through so there is not one person who will ever completely understand it. I have decided to be happy. I cannot live my life wishing for something I will never get because it breaks my heart over and over. I consider myself lucky to have the love and support that I have and I consider it very fortunate that I am where I am in this lifelong process of grief. I will never stop wanting and loving Shaun. Never. This does not mean that I cannot love again and I promise you from the depth of my soul that Shaun would never want me to spend my life mourning him with my every breath.

Where the heart is

My heart is broken because Shaun took it with him when he left but I still have his heart and I always will. Last night was one of my crappier nights. Every time I fell asleep Shaun was there in my dreams. There are still times when I swear this has all been one horrible dream and Shaun will come walking through the door like nothing happened and we will just carry on with our lives. I know that he won't but sometimes my head and my heart don't quite agree. Everything is not how I planned but I guess it never is. I'm so sad and tired this morning. I want Shaun to hug me and tell me he loves me so badly I can't hardly stand it. I've learned that I don't always get what I want though. Just a sad day today.

Real love

I dreamt of Shaun for the first time in a long time today. I was so sad and crying and he was just trying to fix it, like always he just wanted me to be happy again. I told him why he couldn't fix it this time and he said he was so sorry and then was heartbroken for me. That guy loved me a whole helluva lot and I guess my head was trying to remind me that if he could he would try and fix everything, he would be devastated for making me so sad. The head and the heart are the two most disagreeable organs sometimes. Love is such a strange thing. Shaun has been gone for three months and yet I love him more and more each day. I'm beginning to believe that he really is always with me because how else could I keep falling in love with him. My heart is broken because of my loving him and yet it's there still because I loved him and was loved by him. What a strange life I'm leading now. I miss him like crazy and I'm pretty sure he misses me too. Such a strange life.

I am not embarrassed

I really don't care who knows that my husband died. I honestly want the whole world to know. I understand that it makes people uncomfortable and they don't know what to say or do, but this is my life now. I'm not going to hide it or sugar coat it so that someone else doesn't have to deal with the unpleasantness of the information. It wasn't sugar coated for me and my life is one giant bowl of uncomfortable right now so why pretend I'm okay and act like nothing happened? I'm an emotional wreck. I do weird, silly things like talk and yell and scream to a man that is in a box on my counter. I cry and laugh at inappropriate times and I'm not embarrassed to be what I am right now. Some people who don't understand think I should put my game face on and deal with it privately but this isn't a private thing. My husband died, the world is less because he is no longer here. This is not something that you should ignore or pretend like it's in another room. It's everywhere and all encompassing for me. I drive down the road and cry often. I sit in the park on the swing and talk to "no one". I may seem crazy sometimes and that's because I am. There's nothing to do about it and I'm relatively harmless. Just don't ignore someone who is going through a rough patch. It's hard to do things on my own and even though I'm emotionally unstable right now I keep coming back to reality. I understand the difference between visiting the deep end and going off it. It's an uncomfortable situation and if you don't want to be around it or hear about it then go away. I have enough on my plate right now to deal with and I don't need anyone's issues but my own. I feel what I feel when I feel it. I am not going to apologise for who and what I am right now and I never will.

Strange

It's odd but it's getting to the point that I feel like I haven't been doing anything for the last three months because I haven't told Shaun about it. How could it have happened or been important enough to remember if Shaun doesn't know? It's a very surreal feeling. Almost like "it's not official until it's on Facebook," but on a much bigger and more overwhelming scale. Also how do I know how awesome it was unless Shaun is happy or sad or angry about whatever it was with me? It's strange how difficult it is for me to separate my emotional reactions from what I think Shaun would have felt. We spent so much time gauging our lives on each others happiness that I almost don't know how to feel because I don't know how Shaun feels. I don't know if that makes any sense to anyone but me but I suppose it doesn't matter because I understand and Shaun would have understood.

Today

I hate today. I hate everything about it. It's been three months and I've been crying all day.

Firsts

The first times are almost always the worst. Some of the firsts that have gotten me were surprising.

• Hanging out with friends, any of them, was hard. Seeing all of them is like a knife in the heart. Knowing that Shaun was missing kills me. I love being with friends but Shaun's absence for me is greater when I'm with other people.
• Driving the car. I didn't realize that when I drove my car my husband was almost always with me unless I was going to work. We went so many places together and did so many things. He almost always drove also so me driving was even worse.
• Coming home and knowing he wouldn't be there.
• Getting sick with a cold. Not that my husband was the most caring when it came to illness. At least before he would get me medicine and tell me I was beautiful even when I didn't feel like it. He would kiss me when my face was all snotty and tell me he was a champion and I couldn't get him sick. Most of the time he was right.
• Going back to work.
• Making food that use to be mine or his favorite. Cooking is horrible. I don't enjoy eating anyways and then to make something that had so many good memories associated with it is hard. Anything I cook for the first time is hard.
• Buying anything. I bought a new TV and all I could think was that my husband would be mad because it wasn't as big as he wanted and I didn't shop around like he would have. It was a good deal though.
• Realizing that there are things that I will have to ask for help with now. I'm not big and strong like my husband was and there are just too many things that I'm not able to do. Luckily he left me with quite a few large and strong friends that are willing to help if I need it.
• Realizing that I'm it. Stuff won't get done unless I do it. Dishes won't be cleaned, Sammie won't get walked, the trash won't take itself out. On the flip side of that things also don't go missing anymore. That bottle of wine is still in the rack, the leftovers are still in the fridge, my towel is always hanging up, and the toothpaste is only as empty as I left it. Going from being a one half of a whole to being all that's left is a very hard adjustment. One that I will be trying to get used to for a long long time.
• Any celebration. My husband died, then it was Mother's day, then his mother's birthday, then his birthday, then the first month was gone and I couldn't figure out where the time had gone. The firsts are going to keep getting me until this first year is up. Then it will be the second time around for everything and maybe it won't be so bad. I hope.

Firsts are going to keep getting me. Probably for the rest of my life. There's a first time for everything and unfortunately there is now a whole new set that I'm am trying to work through.

Screw you Karli

Things to do to guarantee you'll bawl your eyes out: first get a little drunk, second look at pictures of your late husband, third listen to an old voicemail from him telling you he loves you, fourth watch a video of him being silly, fifth walk around your giant empty house and think about how it doesn't matter what you do or where you go you are always always always lonely and sad. Oh yes and you must start by going out to a lounge for the first time without him...yes that's all you have to do. Relatively simple concepts but hard to do and once you get started you'll be completely and utterly depressed. You know, just a typical night in Karliland.

Plan on living

So I was never someone who was scared of death or of the unknown. I always thought that what happens happens and there's nothing you can do about it. When my husband died everything changed. Everything. I was suddenly terrified of dying, of the unknown, of leaving behind so many things that I felt were unfinished in my life. I was scared that I really didn't know what happened to him, where he was or what he was doing.

I had to make the conscious decision to live. I didn't want to, I completely lost any desire to be alive anymore. Losing the will to live is possibly the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. To truly not care if I woke up or not, it's not something I would ever want to go through again.

At the same time I was scared of what it would mean to die. I was scared for not just myself but for my friends and family. They had already suffered such a huge loss, could I really give up and make them suffer more? So I have kept myself alive. I've even lived a little bit. It's hard and heart wrenching to do things without my husband. I always wanted to experience things with him and now I never will again. Everything new is even more so because he isn't here with me to share in the experience.

I have to plan on living now. I can't keep looking behind me and expecting something horrible is going to happen. So I plan my life. I decide where I'm going to go and what I'm going to do. It may not seem like much but believe me when I say it's hard. Harder than I ever thought possible. When you just want to curl up in a ball and forget about the world...yes it's hard. I'm alive though, I have a chance of a lifetime, a chance that I don't want but I can't help think how angry my husband would be if I just wasted it. Oh and he would be. Absolutely furious.

I don't plan on dying tomorrow, but now I understand when they say "live like you're dying". My husband lived so much in his short 28 years. He did what he wanted when he wanted. He always said "It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Man I miss him. Every moment I miss him. I guess my life goes on though. I guess I plan to live.

Food

Some people are stress eaters, I'm a stress starver. Anytime something is going on in my life from a test to the death of my husband I just can't stomach food. I get physically nauseous and if it's really bad, like these past few weeks, food will actually make me throw up. Just the thought of food makes me sick now. I have to force myself to eat a little bit each day. Some days are better than others, some foods I still actually eat a lot of (pasta mainly and by "a lot" I mean almost an entire serving).

If you knew me at all before my husband's death then you know I was an eater. Everything in sight that was edible I would eat all of if not at least try once. I have a fast metabolism and I always have. When my husband died I didn't eat for almost three days. You have to eat to live, but I hate eating. Food has become my enemy, a necessary evil.

In the first week of my husbands death I dropped almost 10 pounds, by the second week I had lost another 4. At 6ft tall I went from being a healthy 167 to 153. Now it's not that I'm unhealthy at this weight, it's just the way I lost it and how quickly that is the problem. I realized when I almost passed out going up my stairs that if I wanted to stay out of a hospital I would have to make myself eat. Which I do, mostly. I've at least stopped losing weight for now.

The other thing about food is that I used to love to cook. I loved cooking for my husband. I loved when he liked what I made and would eat everything in the pan. I loved that even when it wasn't the best he would just put hot sauce on it and call it good (while dropping a hint or two that it wasn't the best). I loved that he bragged about me, even if I'm not the best in the world, I was the best in his.

Sammie and Shaun

Played a video of my husband and Sammie perked up. I felt bad. She recognized his voice and was looking for him. I know how she feels. I don't even know why I play that stupid video. All it does is make me sad. I really did feel bad for Sammie hearing it though. She's been weird ever since he died and the voice in the video just made it a little worse. She's been pretty depressed also, my cat on the other hand couldn't care less. Cause he's a cat and he's a jerk.

Make no mistake

I've noticed, and I'm grateful, that many people are attempting to treat me like they did before my husband died. I feel like I put on a good show. I don't cry in public very often and I can laugh and enjoy a conversation or movie. I feel like people look at me and don't know what to do or say and that's ok. I know how it looks from the outside. I've been on the outside before. Not many know what it looks like from my point of view though. I'm broken and I'm not the same person. I'm trying which is what most people see. They see me trying to be who I use to be. I think I'm still here somewhere. Maybe not though. I'm not really sure of those things anymore. When my husband was alive I was so very sure of my life and where I stood. Now I just don't know. One more day down and I don't know how many to go.

Tired

I don't sleep anymore. I don't eat anymore either. When I do sleep it isn't restful. I tend to dream a lot.

So young

I was young and he was charming. He made me laugh and irritated me just enough that I wanted to tell him, everyday, for the rest of my life. The problem is now I can say it all I want. I can scream it at the stars and cry until I can't breathe but what I want is for him to irritate me and make me laugh. I want to tell him I love him and I want him to tell  me he loves me. We were so young. So young and lucky to have what we had. So I cry and I tell him I love him and miss him and that he's a jerk for leaving me. He doesn't argue with me anymore, he doesn't wipe away the tears and tell me he misses me too and that he loves me. I miss the arguing.

What Makes A Bad Day

1. Not getting enough sleep. I don't like going to bed anymore, going to bed means waking up and I just can't seem to shake this nightmare I'm in. Sleep also potentially means I will dream of my husband which at the moment is pure, subconscious, torture. In this same line not sleeping in my actual bed makes for badness.
2. Hangovers. Drinking can be good. In moderation. If I drink too much I get the dreaded hangover. Now a hangover is bad enough as it is. You feel like crap all-over and you just want to crawl in a hole and die generally (if it's a good one). A hangover on top of the death of my husband multiplies those awesome crawl in a hole feelings by about a billion. Trust me on this, unless you plan on staying drunk (no judging), don't do it.
3. Not eating. Eating is an issue for me. I don't stress eat, I stress starve. My husband would literally force feed me fries when I had a test or something at school because I just wouldn't get hungry. The problem with not eating is that your blood sugar drops which makes you feel like crap and since I'm already feeling crappy adding one more crappy thing on top is a bad combo. Much like a hangover except I didn't get the fun drunk part.
4. Staying in the house. If I stay in the house for too long or don't get out and about I generally start to "wallow". Wallowing is not really an okay thing to do. I let myself feel sad or upset but wallowing just makes me feel worse and it's very hard to come back from wallowing.
5. Being alone. There are two parts to this so bear with me. If I am alone too much I do that silly "thinking" thing. That thinking thing leads inevitably to the sad thing and the sad thing when you are by yourself sucks.
6. Being around too many people. Part two of the 'alone' factor is that being with too many people for too long can be brutal. I have a really hard time staying in conversations. My mind won't focus and I tend to zone out. A lot. Apparently this is normal and most of my friends and family have been taking it in stride. Talking about things you don't really care if I know is best because I probably won't remember the majority of the conversation. Being a part of a conversation literally exhausts me. I have to try so very hard to pay attention and focus. 
7. Misc. other things. Some days I can do everything right. I'll get enough sleep, I'll eat, I won't drink, I keep myself occupied and all the other things that make my life a little easier and you know what? It won't matter. I have bad days even when I do everything right. They knock me out and make me horribly sad and I can't do anything about it. Something as simple as seeing a restaurant that my husband and I used to go to can set me off.

These are things that I have found make bad days. Sometimes it won't matter, I'll have a horrible day, but most of the time if I do all the right things I can have "okay" days where I don't want to curl up in a ball and cry. I've found that bad days don't last forever which is the only thing that keeps me sane on those days. I just have to push through.

Torturing myself

I'll be going along and suddenly get a wild hair and start doing things that make me sad. Looking at pictures, reading old texts, thinking about what could have been. I can't help it. It hurts and yet I do it over and over. I torture myself. Sometimes I can get myself to stop and other times I just let myself cry and be sad. Sometimes I honestly like the hurt. It reminds me that I'm not crazy and that I really did lose everything. It helps to let myself be sad. Not all the time but every once in a while.

What to do, what to do?

When I first started this in December I really wanted to change my life. I had just gotten married in October, we were building our first house, and I had withdrawn from the Fall semester at school. I was not entirely content with where I was, but I was happy. Honestly I was happy with who I was and the relationship I was in.

On February 13th my husband and I got the keys to our brand new home. We painted and moved in and everything was really amazing. We were happier then we had ever been and said so on a regular basis. I had decided to take a semester off to figure out what I wanted and be able to just be with my new husband in my new house.

On April 30th everything changed.

My husband.

The love of my life.

Died.

He was in a motorcycle accident and did not survive.

We had been dating since the end of 2006 and were married October 13th of 2012. We had a very short 6 years together. So very very short when we promised each other so much longer than that. We promised forever and he got his but I didn't.

This blog will now be a documentation of what I'm going through at the age of 25 losing my 28 year old husband. I will be posting some things from the first days that were on Facebook for my friends and family as well as what I am doing now. I will take you along on the journey of my new life, a life I never wanted. It's mine now though and I hope to make the best of it.

Stay tuned for more.