Well, Christmas came and went.
And thankfully it is over. Oh my, I am so beyond thankful it is over.
I am thankful for all those who helped distract me on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
I actually made it through, I think.
Or at least it seemed that way.
I wonder what next Christmas will be like.
Will it be worse?
Will the reality of the loss truly be there?
However, on the twenty-sixth, I felt worse than on the two days prior.
Maybe because it was over?
Maybe because I was so well destracted?
Maybe the crash back to reality?
And today, I feel even a little more worse.
Today I am back home and I just want to sit on my sofa and watch mindless TV.
I want to pet my cats and be alone.
I do not want to wear real clothes and I do not want to look pretty.
I just want to sit and cry.
I want to hide.
The worst part of today and yesterday was the wacked and disturbing dream I had last night.
I dreamt that Roger was alive and well in present time.
I had got fired from my job for some reason.
We were standing facing each other discussing how we were going to handle it.
Roger was being super supportive.
He said maybe it was time for us to move.
Then we laid down together to snuggle so he could comfort me.
The weird/wacked/disturbing part is we were suddenly in the actual bed I was sleeping in which happened to be a twin bed.
I suddenly felt very crowded.
I felt his very hot body heat.
I felt him holding me.
I woke up in a panic at 5:49 am.
I hate dreaming Roger is actually alive.
It is the worst feeling ever.
It scares me beyond belief.
1 comment:
Judging only by my experience (although I'd hazard a guess that's it's pretty darn common), that first Christmas is probably the hardest one you'll have to survive. I've felt worse in later years in the weeks and months leading up to Christmas, but none have been as hard as that first one.
And I've seen it a million times on the widowed bulletin board I belonged to the first year or so after Charley died, and heard it numerous times in the 3+ years I've attended my widowed support group, but it's often right before or right after the "big day" (Christmas in this case) that's the hardest, rather than the actual day itself. Sometimes it's a day, a few days, a week, a few weeks...either before or after (or when you're really unlucky, sometimes both). Partially it's because you don't know what to expect or how you'll react, so the days/weeks leading up to it are full of anxiety, dread, and sometimes fear. For me, I've always gone into emergency shutdown mode on the big days--into a sort of autopilot, sheltered absence--so only a few things ever really register on the actual day. And then if I'm on the yo-yo swing where the grief hits me after the date, I'd usually be assaulted in the following days by all I didn't let myself feel in real time.
I thought I was handling it okay that first Christmas. It was awful and excruciating and surreal, but at least while Christmas was officially in swing, there were tons of distractions. But after everyone went to bed on Christmas night, something happened (I'll spare the details), and I absolutely lost it. One of the worst meltdowns I've had these past 3.5 years. And I don't know if emotionally it got worse in the days following, but physically it sure did, because I ended up in urgent care on either Dec. 26 or 27 with a massive ear infection. I think, in hindsight, the physical, medical pain was easier to stand than the grief.
Glad to hear you survived (which of course you were going to...there's no choice in the matter). And dreams like that suck. I'm so sorry. Hang in there. Gods willing, it should start getting a little bit better (we can hope) after New Years....
Hugs,
Candice
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