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...

Overwhelmed...

I can't do this all on my own.
I am far too broken.
Everything is so overwhelming...

No matter how hard I try I cannot get back finding any type of normalcy. I try to go out and do something and I physically just cannot do it. Emotionally, I am a walking on a landmine field, and with every step another bomb goes off sending me into a fury of emotions. I can't seem to accomplish any of the tasks at hand. I am falling apart, my home is falling apart, my life is falling apart. Even the mundane everyday tasks of my life seem to be too much for me to handle.

Michael and I were the type of couple to drop everything if someone needed help. Yet, in my time of need I am unable to ask for help. It is not in my nature. I wish it were different, but it is who I am. Everyone has told me, "if you need anything call". Obviously, I am not going to call. I shouldn't have to call. My husband is dead, my world is shattered... You would think that those close to me would realize I am going to need help.

It seems very few people have been able to look past themselves and their own needs the way Mike and I always had for them. It feels as if I am just an afterthought. It is only after their needs have been fulfilled and the time is convenient for them that maybe, if I am lucky they just might think about me and if I need some help. It makes me feel so sad. So angry. So alone.

Attempt at normalcy...FAILED!

I decided to go out to a comedy club with a friend. It was my first real social outing since Mike died. After about 2 hours into the night things went bad. I got nauseous, overly hot, my neck and shoulders started aching, and I was on the verge of passing out. My ears were ringing, I was having a hard time speaking, and tunnel vision was starting. Luckily, I was able to get myself somewhere cold and I concentrated on breathing and it passed. I think perhaps it was a mix of my blood pressure meds, some anxiety, and the bad food at the club.

I just want nothing more than to have one normal day. One day where I can just be Jess, not Jess Rodak the 29 year old widow who's husband died in her bedroom. Is it too much to ask for one day where I can forget my troubles and just enjoy myself?

Two Weeks...

It's been two weeks since Mike has been gone. Thanks to Ativan I am finally able to get through the day without the horrible anxiety attacks. Perhaps now I can begin to face some of those important tasks at hand without having a nervous breakdown. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to drive because my blood pressure is dangerously elevated due to the anxiety. Hopefully the meds will kick in soon...

I am finally finding that the days are getting easier as opposed to harder. I am even sometimes able to look at a picture of Mike and not bawl my eyes out. I am beginning to see that I still have a future ahead of me and even though Mike is gone, he will be a large part of my future in many ways. I have begun reading, and finding a lot of comfort in a few books on widowhood, grieving, and moving on after the loss of a loved one.

I have managed to start sorting through Michael's clothing. I am finding that I am keeping quite a bit more than I thought I would. There are so many shirts that have sentimental value. However, I am finding that it is quite easy to look at a shirt and know which friend he would want me to give it to as well. It is a good thing the man had a million shirts!

I am so thankful for my friends. No matter where in the world they are or how long it has been since we last spoke, they are present in my life sending encouragement. It is times like these you truly learn who your "real" friends are. I am especially thankful for my Kate. She is not only helping me to get through the end of this chapter, but she is also providing a way for me to look forward to the beginning of my new chapter.

Baby Steps

Mike has been gone 12 days, but it feels like an eternity. The days following his funeral have no definition, every day is the same mundane existence. I can't bring myself to do much more than take care of my dogs. I am so empty inside. I feel as if my soul has been drained.

I need to start a forward progression. The longer I let myself sit in this limbo, the harder it will be in the long run. I still have not slept in our bedroom, however I did manage to sleep in the house alone twice. Tomorrow I plan on doing a thorough cleaning and de-cluttering of the bedroom with the help of a friend. I am going to start sorting through Mike's clothes deciding what has enough meaning to me that I want to keep, and the rest I will give to his friends whom have always coveted his t-shirt collection. I need to reclaim the bedroom as a place of solitude and relaxation.

The dream is over.

It seems that when someone close to you dies, people often say that it feels like a bad dream. For me it is a bit different. When I look back at our life we had together, it almost seems too good to be true. It feels almost as if it was all just a wonderful dream, and never really happened. I was so happy, so full of love, so content... And now that the 8 year dream is over it is back to the harsh reality that is my life.