Wednesday, July 22, 2009

"Think About Your Dead Husband"

This past weekend was great.
I was at a good friend's house.
He was having his annual summer party.
I was surrounded by loving friends.
I was smiling.
I was having a good time.
I was with Mr. X who I am caring about more and more with each day.
Life was being kind.
Life was good.
I felt good.
August felt like miles away.
Widowdom felt miles away.
I was feeling normal again.
I was feeling beautiful.
Life was feeling beautiful.

Then an unstable "friend" of mine disappeared from the party.
Last time I saw him he was trashed.
Three sheets to the wind.
This is not uncommon occurrence but he is bipolar.
And off his meds.
But as his (now former) friend, I was concerned, like always.
"Where is he?"
No one knew.
I had seen him disappear out the back door but he was no where to be found.
We checked the entire house.
We checked the yard.
No one else was worried.
I was just hoping he was not driving.
I was just hoping he was safe.

Then he sent some texts to a friend.
I responded on her phone.
I wanted to make sure he was safe.
He was being dramatic.
"Are you safe?"
I told him to stop being a drama queen.
His comment back to me:
"Tell Star to think about her dead husband."

I was shocked.
Think about my dead husband, eh?
Well, mister fucking asshole, I think about my dead husband every single fucking day.
Every. Single. Day.
Every single hour.
Just because I am dating.
Just because I am smiling.
Just because I am happy.
Just because I am trying to live my life.
Through everything I think about my dead husband.
All the time.

I wonder why us.
I wonder why him.
I wonder what if.
I wonder how.

Even when I am happy.
Even when I can finally take a few deep breaths.
Even when I can enjoy my life again.
I think.
I replay.
I rewind the tapes.
I see the images in my head.
They never stop.
They never go away.
And as I know from others' experiences, they will not stop.
They will only be less frequent.

I am not sure what my "friend" was referencing.
The fact I was with Mr. X?
The fact I am happy?
The fact I was having a good time?
I do not know.
I do not care.
I know I was not the (only) source of his anger at the moment.
But still.

The horror of someone who supposedly is my friend actually saying this to me.
People say stupid shit to me all the time.
And most of the time it rolls down my back.
Most of the time I can just let people's stupidity be their own.
Sometimes they are just ignorant.
This however will not not.
I will not follow some standard or rule of being sad all the time and having pity party for the rest of my life for what does or does not happen.
I suggest this "friend" do the same.

Life is hard.
Life sucks.
So when I can, I will enjoy the moments it is not so hard.
The moments it does not suck.
I suggest anyone to do this.
It will make life just a little easier to swallow.
It will help take away a bit of the pain life can throw.

I do think this was probably the worst thing someone has ever said to me in the last eleven months.
The stupidest thing.
The meanest thing.
Although there are some close seconds of things said to me and/or about me.
And they know who they are.
And to all of them, I say good luck and good bye.


Mars Girl said...

Why is it that people who are bipolar are always off their meds?

Mars Girl said...

Also, was this guy a mutual friend of you and your husband? I've found that sometimes our friends have a worse time dealing with our dating again than we do...

robyn said...

holy crap, i absolutely cannot believe someone said this to riddance, i say!

Crash Course Widow said...

Oh, Star, I'm so sorry you had to deal with this. It sucks, it's awful, it cuts to the absolute core, and it's just not fair.

I've had to deal with this shit with my own crazy former friend after Charley died. (Remember that email I sent you months ago about Crazy Suicidal Friend? Yup, her.) So I remember and know the struggles with it all too. I cut her out of my life completely after Charley died--I HAD to, as a matter of my own sanity and life-or-death ability to deal with each day as a brand-new widow--and she went a bit wacky (even more/again) around the 1-year anniversary too...quite similar to your friend. She still doesn't stay totally 100% percent away--she pops up over email or trying to befriend me on FB, web sites, Flickr, etc., every few months or year to 18 months--but it was absolutely the right decision for me to cut her out of my life. I don't regret it for a moment. Life is too fucking short to have to deal with that shit with other people, their baggage, their drama, and their inability to cope with their lives...or our loss.

Hang in there. Sending you lots and lots of hugs!

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

I don't care if it is an illness, this guy's a friggin' weenie.