my journey forward

Original date 6 June 2011

Is this it?

He's gone.

The doctors and the hospitals and the insurance companies and the tumult and the constant parade of people, the exercise in survival into which the most heinous, evil illness on earth turned a once happy home.

The excruciating pain of anticipating the inevitable.....also gone.  The inevitable has arrived.  And now?  Silence. Darkness. Quiet. But not peaceful quiet.  Instead, it's the quiet that emptiness brings.  Calm is supposed to be peaceful, right? This isn't calm.  This is a playground for the overwhelming anxiety to freely dance.  Because over and over and over the same question whirls around in my head like a milkshake in a blender set at high speed:

IS THIS IT?

And at that moment in time...it was.  So this is what is feels like.  This is widowhood.  Yep. I've decided that it pretty much sucks.  I remember being so convinced that this was indeed "it" for me.  This was my life now.  Darkness. Uneasy quiet. Silence. Anxiety.  A bone chilling cold loneliness.  This is it.  No future. No laughter. No light in the darkness. No love. So this is widowhood. This is what everyone calls the "new normal."

SCREW THIS.

All those feelings (and more) felt as permanent as  if they'd been tattooed on my heart with a jackhammer.   I could not see the future from where I was sitting...which was on the couch in a dark living room, in plaid pajamas and pink fuzzy slippers and surrounded by the complete physical, emotional and financial wreckage of a once wonderful life.

And then I made a decision.  A choice.

This damned illness already claimed my husband's life.  It destroyed our lives.  It does not get to take my life too.  My spirit was damaged...by illness, by death, by those supposed to have meant well and, as it turned out, didn't mean so well.

But, I will not be broken.

I don't have to settle for where I am because where I am is NOT where I want to be.

I AM SO DONE WITH THIS.

Changes did not come instantly.  Healing did not happen overnight. But, as with everything else, it began with a choice.  A decision. One step at a time.  One tiny step.  One day at a time.  I decided, then I declared:

1. I am still here.  Although I have been through a devastating, life-altering event, it is because I am still here that makes me entitled to a life filled with abundance and happiness; regardless of how much or how little time has passed since becoming widowed. I don't have to wait any specific amount of time to begin my healing journey and accordingly, I will not feel guilty, nor will I question my pursuit of happiness or a life filled with peace.

2. My healing journey is mine alone.  It belongs to no one else. It cannot be compared to others or other loss experiences.  It is neither fast, nor easy. I cannot "hurry up" my grief, even though there may be people around who wish I would because they're really sick of me.  Therefore, I will truthfully honor however and whatever it is that I am feeling, rather than let any opinions around me dictate how I "should" be feeling or what I "should" be doing.

3. On the days that I don't believe in myself or in my ability to heal, I will turn to those who will "breathe belief" into me.

4. My identity and my self-esteem have nothing to do with my marital status, what I look like, what the scale reads, my career path or any material gain.  My identity and self-esteem come from within and I recognize that what others think of me is not half as important as what I think of me.  I know that not everyone will agree with what I do or how I do it; however as long as I am not hurting myself or others, and all my legal and moral obligations are fulfilled, I will pursue the life that I wish in the ways that I see fit.

5. I accept that I cannot control the fact that I am a widow, or this "new" life that I have been handed, but I can absolutely decide and control what I am going to do with the  life that I've been handed. I will therefore make a list of what I want to do and accomplish.  It may be a new hobby, or pursuit, or activity.  It may be trying new foods or exploring new places.  It may be choosing to be quietly on my own.  Whatever I decide to do or try, I will do so with the understanding that by exploring new opportunities and experiences, I am not turning my back on my past, rather I am taking control of a situation over which I had little or no control, by slowly embracing a future of my choosing.

And through the darkness, the light begins to shine again. The uneasy quiet filled with conversation and laughter.  And the future, while different than I planned, isn't so terrible after all.

Yes, this is widowhood, and it doesn't have to suck forever.  It doesn't have to be dark forever.  It doesn't have to be a life without laughter, new possibilities....or love.

My "this" doesn't have to be "it."

I made my choice.  I'm journeying forward.