Recently I have been more active in reading other widow's blogs. Active in a sense that I check in and read a couple times a weeks and will even go back to posts that I have missed during the course of that week. Even more than that, I have even commented several times. Since becoming a widow myself, I have browsed blogs in the past few years, but not like this. Never consistently. And I never commented. I just knew they were out there and knew that if I ever felt like I needed to feel that connection with other widows, they were out there.
I began frequenting these blogs more often in the past couple of months. I think what I was really looking for was someone who had moved on. I was looking for someone to describe what it was like to find another love and to create a new life with him. I wanted to hear about the promise and hope of a wonderful present and future, but also the struggles that it entailed in truly moving on. I can't say that I really found that blog. What I did find is "Widow's Voice: Seven Widowed Voices Sharing Love, Loss, and Hope." What I like about this blog is that there are 7 different writers. They all are all widows and all have their own stories and unique journeys. There is even a widow who lost her husband to suicide. I often seek out her posts because we share that commonality (unfortunately) and there is a comfort in that. However, because of the variety of stories and widows, I have to say that I have felt some connection with each of them. And it's nice. Being a widow is an experience like no other, and being in my 30's, even a rarer commonality to find with anyone my age.
I was very proud of myself for commenting, not only because I was opening up my thoughts and feelings at the moment on that topic, but I also opened up my blog. I made comments signed into my own blog account which opened the door to anyone who happened to click onto my name. After all of this time, my blog is still a rather hidden blog. I do not advertise it to anyone, even friends. It has always been just for me, and for anyone who happened to stumble across it. But back to the point I wanted to make, it was when I began commenting that I actually began to feel a disconnect with these widows.
It is not just this blog alone, but I have not come across any blogs in which there was trouble in the relationship. I remember reading another post from another blog in which this widow attended a widow camp. Even in her post she commented on the many different people she met and the many different stories that they all had. The one thing that they all had in common was that they lost their husbands and the wonderful life and marriage that they had with him. She said there were but very few people that she met there that didn't.
I think that is part of what has opened me up more and more about the tumultuous aspects of my relationship with Dale. I felt as if I were not being genuine in not sharing my whole truth. To me. That is part of my story too. That is my truth. It has taken me this long to finally feel comfortable enough to reveal this part. I don't think it was ever about protecting myself. It was about protecting him. The truth is ugly and I never wanted to paint him that way. I think after 3 years of blogging and nearly 400 posts, I did a good job in not doing that. I was trying to stay focused on the positives. I needed to. And I wasn't ready until now to reveal any more. I needed too. This move, this new life that is now just days away... it has stirred things up for me emotionally.
I have grown so much since I first began this blog. And while the posts that I have written in the past month are darkest that I have shared, it is not because I am in a bad place. I am in such a good place that I know that I am strong enough, brave enough, and confident enough to confront them. I need to release these thoughts that have resurfaced so that I can let them go. It is when they get stuck and swim in your head that they become most dangerous.
So where do I belong? Everywhere and nowhere...
I remember the summer of 2010. My sister had just gone through a divorce. I remember sitting in this very apartment looking at my son and my husband and wondering how I could ever start again. I wondered how I could ever love someone like I loved Dale. He was the first and only man that I had ever loved and the thought was incomprehensible to me. It was not that at this point only months, literally months before he took his own life, our marriage was absolutely wonderful. It wasn't. It was unhealthy then. Call it denial, call it ignorance... I'll call it consciously unaware of our reality. However, what was real to me at that time was my love for him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. So I do belong with those widows who grieve the loss of their loved one.
I also belong with those silent widows. The ones who know true fear and horror. The ones who have seen a different kind of hell. The ones who can't help but to be thankful for their lives. That is me too.
It is excruciatingly exhausting to be on both ends of the spectrum. Like I posted yesterday, I have come to terms with my reality and 95% of the time, I am in check. I am balanced. But when I lean more to one side, it doesn't matter which one, they both have negative consequences of guilt and self doubt.
Where do I belong? Exactly where I am.
I began frequenting these blogs more often in the past couple of months. I think what I was really looking for was someone who had moved on. I was looking for someone to describe what it was like to find another love and to create a new life with him. I wanted to hear about the promise and hope of a wonderful present and future, but also the struggles that it entailed in truly moving on. I can't say that I really found that blog. What I did find is "Widow's Voice: Seven Widowed Voices Sharing Love, Loss, and Hope." What I like about this blog is that there are 7 different writers. They all are all widows and all have their own stories and unique journeys. There is even a widow who lost her husband to suicide. I often seek out her posts because we share that commonality (unfortunately) and there is a comfort in that. However, because of the variety of stories and widows, I have to say that I have felt some connection with each of them. And it's nice. Being a widow is an experience like no other, and being in my 30's, even a rarer commonality to find with anyone my age.
I was very proud of myself for commenting, not only because I was opening up my thoughts and feelings at the moment on that topic, but I also opened up my blog. I made comments signed into my own blog account which opened the door to anyone who happened to click onto my name. After all of this time, my blog is still a rather hidden blog. I do not advertise it to anyone, even friends. It has always been just for me, and for anyone who happened to stumble across it. But back to the point I wanted to make, it was when I began commenting that I actually began to feel a disconnect with these widows.
It is not just this blog alone, but I have not come across any blogs in which there was trouble in the relationship. I remember reading another post from another blog in which this widow attended a widow camp. Even in her post she commented on the many different people she met and the many different stories that they all had. The one thing that they all had in common was that they lost their husbands and the wonderful life and marriage that they had with him. She said there were but very few people that she met there that didn't.
I think that is part of what has opened me up more and more about the tumultuous aspects of my relationship with Dale. I felt as if I were not being genuine in not sharing my whole truth. To me. That is part of my story too. That is my truth. It has taken me this long to finally feel comfortable enough to reveal this part. I don't think it was ever about protecting myself. It was about protecting him. The truth is ugly and I never wanted to paint him that way. I think after 3 years of blogging and nearly 400 posts, I did a good job in not doing that. I was trying to stay focused on the positives. I needed to. And I wasn't ready until now to reveal any more. I needed too. This move, this new life that is now just days away... it has stirred things up for me emotionally.
I have grown so much since I first began this blog. And while the posts that I have written in the past month are darkest that I have shared, it is not because I am in a bad place. I am in such a good place that I know that I am strong enough, brave enough, and confident enough to confront them. I need to release these thoughts that have resurfaced so that I can let them go. It is when they get stuck and swim in your head that they become most dangerous.
So where do I belong? Everywhere and nowhere...
I remember the summer of 2010. My sister had just gone through a divorce. I remember sitting in this very apartment looking at my son and my husband and wondering how I could ever start again. I wondered how I could ever love someone like I loved Dale. He was the first and only man that I had ever loved and the thought was incomprehensible to me. It was not that at this point only months, literally months before he took his own life, our marriage was absolutely wonderful. It wasn't. It was unhealthy then. Call it denial, call it ignorance... I'll call it consciously unaware of our reality. However, what was real to me at that time was my love for him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. So I do belong with those widows who grieve the loss of their loved one.
I also belong with those silent widows. The ones who know true fear and horror. The ones who have seen a different kind of hell. The ones who can't help but to be thankful for their lives. That is me too.
It is excruciatingly exhausting to be on both ends of the spectrum. Like I posted yesterday, I have come to terms with my reality and 95% of the time, I am in check. I am balanced. But when I lean more to one side, it doesn't matter which one, they both have negative consequences of guilt and self doubt.
Where do I belong? Exactly where I am.
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