Everything Happens for a Reason...

I have always lived with the belief that everything happens for a reason and the bad things you endure give you knowledge and stregnth to help others in similar situations down the road. It is this belief that keeps me going when the times get tough. And strangely enough, it has always held true.

While I was in Vegas I found out that one of my friends also lost her husband. She had been with him since they were 14, and she is only 22. I thought being widowed at 29 was young, but 22? Wow!

As horrible as it is to lose your spouse at a young age, I have found that it is important to find others in the same situation. As great as it is to join support groups, these people are really just strangers. Sure, eventually we get to know each other, but the basis of our relationship is our loss. Our friendship is more circumstantial as opposed to personal.

To have a personal relationship with someone before such unfortunate circumstances bring you closer together is such a godsend. When Kandice shares her thoughts and feelings it truly validates what I had/am feeling. It makes me see that I am not alone or crazy. To have someone I can relate to on such a deep level that no one else can possibly comprehend is amasing. And the fact that I am just a tiny step ahead of Kandice on her journey gives Mike's death some sort of meaning. Knowing that I am able to warn her of the some of the potholes and obstacles I come across is a blessing because I know that this is not all in vain.

Leaving Las Vegas...

I really think that my time away in Vegas did me some good. I was able to distance myself from Mike's death for a few days and just enjoy a new adventure. Yes, there were days that I cried and felt lonely without him. Seeing happy couples walking the strip hand in hand was a harsh reminder that never again would I feel Mike's hand holding mine. There were so many things I saw and did that made me wish Mike were there with me because I knew he would have enjoyed them. And even watching my friend with her mother made me sad that my mother is not here to help me get through this. But all in all I think the trip was good for me.

Realizations

The other day it hit me... I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It explains a whole lot. Looks like I will have to add finding a good therapist to the list of things I need to take care of when I get home from Vegas.

Speaking of Vegas we leave tomorrow morning. I am so thankful for this trip. I swear if I were not leaving town for a week, I would most likely be checking myself into a mental health facility instead. I re-live Mike's death at least 20 times a day sitting in this house. Each flashback brings along an anxiety attack. I am unable to focus on tasks and lose hours of time where I have no clue till I look at the time and realize that I have been sitting staring at the wall for 3 hours.

Everyone thinks that I am doing so well, and that I am so strong. I guess that is because I can function with distractions. It is not till I am alone that the basket case comes out.

Defined by loss and tragedy...

My mother was not only a single mom, but my best friend. When I was 9 years old she died of cancer. My childhood ended the day I was told her illness was terminal. I was no longer Jessie Giambra the bright, cheerful, outgoing little girl. Instead, I was poor Jessica, the girl who's mom was dying/dead. Everyone knew who I was in our community, they all pitied me, and no one knew exactly what to say or how to treat me. I was defined by my loss and tragedy for far too long. I missed out on so many of the joys of being a child. There was no childlike innocence for me. I knew all too well of the harsh realities of this world.

Looking back at my childhood, it was not till high school that I was able to emerge from the shadow of my mother's illness and death. Granted, I was still not your typical teenager, I had experienced far too much. But I was able to assimilate for the most part. I was so glad to finally put the past behind me and just be a "normal" kid.

I grew up and started a normal life. I found love with a man (well at 21 I wouldn't say man exactly) who also was also no stranger to loss and tragedy. It seemed as if my life were finally complete. I had new definition. I was Jess Rodak, wife of Mike. I was happy, I felt secure, and most importantly I had found my soul mate. I was with someone who understood what I had been through, and loved me with my emotional scars and all. For the first time since I lost my mom, I thought that my life was going to be complete again.

Yet, here I find myself, once again in that same horrible predicament of my childhood. I am no longer Jess Rodak. I am poor Jessica the 29 year old widow who's husband unexpectedly died on her bedroom floor. Once again everyone in my community knows who I am because of my tragedy and loss. Everyone pities me, and no one knows exactly what to say or how to treat me.

I cannot and will not let my loss define me again. I will not be robbed of myself for a second time. I refuse to let myself miss out on experiencing my adult life, the same way I missed out on my childhood. I deserve happiness, and the ability to find simple joys again. I will find a way in time. I control my own destiny. And no one else can take that away from me!

Awakened to this Nightmare

Last night I had a dream...

In it I woke up to the sound of music upstairs. I went upstairs to find Mike alive and well playing on his computer. I ran to him and hugged him with tears running down my face I buried myself in his chest and sobbed telling him about the horrible nightmare I just had.

And then I woke up....

For the first time since he died, I did not wake up in an anxiety attack and I did not re-live his death. But soon I realized that I was dreaming and my life was actually the nightmare.

Why must my subconscious be so cruel? I prefer the anxiety attacks over the reminder that I am living my worst nightmare.

Memorial Tattoo

On Sunday I got my memorial tattoo for Mike. I absolutely love it!

Our wedding song was Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters". "So close not matter how far...", is the first line of that song. That line has so much meaning to me when I think of Michael. I loved that the artist's handwriting very much resembled Mike's writing. That put the icing on the cake!

Mike's favorite place on earth was Hawaii, and his favorite activity in Hawaii was whale watching. Mike took me to Hawaii in December of 2006, and it was a trip of a lifetime. I have so many fond memories of that vacation. We dreamed of growing old together and retiring there.

Mike and I are both into ink. Mike had 4 tattoos when he died. He had plans for many more. Mike's memorial tat makes 4 for me. I find that very fitting.

Mission Accomplished!

May 2, 2009: the 20th anniversary of my mother's death. And I couldn't help but think how it would be so much easier to get through Mike's death if she were here with me. So I was not only mourning my husband, but also my mother... I guess that explains my total meltdown.

This evening went much better than earlier in the day where I just cried for hours on end. Friends came over, some cooked me dinner, others helped me clean, and even a few managed to get me to go out with them. I was smart and took some Ativan before we left, and it seemed to do the trick! We went to two bars. The first to see a band play, and the second for karaoke (no I did not sing). I didn't drink, and I didn't eat any nasty bar food. Both bars were packed, one very smokey, but I survived!

I went out, did something social, and managed to come home in a good mood and feeling perfectly fine. I am so happy that I did not let last night's failed attempt keep me down. Because tonight for the first time since Mike died, I found some normalcy! I went out and enjoyed myself. I was just Jess with no strings attached and no black cloud over my head. It felt good to be free...