Downward Spiral

My life is so out of control. It feels as if I am chained to a Tilt-a-Whirl type ride that wont stop. I am unable to accomplish anything that has to do with Mike's death. I just cannot face it. I cannot deal with all the legalities, paperwork, and phone calls. The thought of even making a phone call and looking at paperwork sends me into a panic attack. I just keep distracting myself to save my sanity. I am so close to breaking right now.

The thought of death is so welcoming. Every night as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come, I pray that I wont wake up. Every headache I get comes with the hopes that I have an aneurysm. I just want to be done. I don't want to deal with this anymore. There is no way that I would ever harm myself, because no matter what one believes, I really think that there has to repercussions for terminating one's life before it is their time. I may think that my life is horrible now, but the fear of an even more terrifying eternity keeps me from doing anything stupid.

I would love to go into a coma for a year and let everyone else take care of all this bullshit for me. I just can't do this. I cannot deal with my life. I need a fresh start. I am not strong enough to get through this.

I was coping so well, till I found out how much I am going to lose. Haven't I lost enough already? I am such a mess and it seems that no one really gets how screwed up in the head I really am right now. Everyone is treating me like the level-headed competent woman I used to me. I wish they would realize that I am nothing more than a scared child who can not come out from under her blankets and face the world. I am totally incapable of managing my own affairs right now.

Hell, the only thing I am capable of is distracting myself, crying, and having anxiety attacks...

Something has got to give!

Everyday is a struggle and harder than the last it seems. I just want to move on with my life, but I am stuck here in limbo. Just when I think things can't possibly get any worse and they have to start looking up, they find a way to get worse.

It looks as if I am going to lose everything Mike and I had. I cannot believe that before my 30th birthday my entire life is being taken away. I am going to have to start over from scratch all alone. I will have nothing. I just don't understand why I have to go through all this. When will it be enough, how much more till I have paid my toll?

I understand that it was Mike's time to go. But why could it not have been just 2 hours later and not at home leaving me alone and helpless preforming CPR waiting for the paramedics knowing that is was just in vain. Why couldn't I have just been able to give him a kiss goodbye, tell him that I love him, and then get a call that he had died? I could cope with the loss, as hard as it is, I know I could do it. But the flashbacks of his death haunt me. The look of fear in his eyes as he realized he was dying and knowing that there was nothing I could do, the taste of his blood in my mouth and the burn of my arms as I performed CPR, seeing him lying there dead with the same look of terror in his eyes, these are things that I cannot shake.

Grief, PTSD, and anxiety seem to rule my life. And just when I think I am getting a handle on one of these factors, something happens to trigger another. The grief, that is manageable. The PTSD is debilitating, it causes my anxiety to sky-rocket. I cannot function as a productive member of society. I zone out for hours on end when left to my own devices and the anxiety attacks are paralyzing.

I just wish there was a restart button on my life...

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.