Another Sabbath. I used to love Sabbath. I woke up every Sabbath excited, because this was the day my husband and I were going to do something together that was fun. Maybe we would play video games. Maybe we would watch a TV show. Maybe we would go back to bed and make love. Every Sabbath was fun because of him. Now they are just long and lonely.
I have to remind myself every day that this is the day the Lord has made. I should rejoice and be glad in it. This morning, I went back to bed. This is a bad habit for a chronic depressive. It turns into days and days in bed. I don't want to slip into that black hole of depression. It would hurt all of those that love me, and we have had enough hurt. Of all things, I must guard against that.
I am scared about my future. Everything that mattered to me, all of my hopes and dreams, were tied up in the sanctity of my marriage. Everything was because of Storm. Everything was geared toward bringing him, and therefore us, happiness and security in the future. My husband was not a man at the end of his rope, or the end of his life. We were planning for the future. Working together on our goals. Making changes that would benefit us for months going forward.
The contrast is amazing. I have no idea where my next paycheck is coming from because I haven't worked in two weeks. I'm not sure how I will pay rent. Because of the suicide, I'm not certain I will be able to collect the life insurance I had for just such an event. I have applied because the benefits manager said, "We have no such exclusion." I remember reading in the policy (which I cannot locate) that it was an exclusion. I hate the uncertainty. I will not hear back until next week. Until I know, I'm stuck in limbo, waiting for the news that my life can go on with simplicity, or that I will continue struggling.
I see a counselor for the first time in my life on Tuesday. I will ask him to give permission for some time off of work, and to sign off on my short-term disability, so that I have at least some income coming in. Storm and I were doing so well...now I'm not sure how I will pay the basic bills. I don't know what I hope the counselor can do. I know that my family and friends loved Storm, too, and sitting and listening to my pain hurts them. Listening to what happened, over and over again, hurts them. I see it in their faces, and I feel it in their presence, and I force myself to stop, Sondra...just stop.
I hate the idea of opening up to a stranger about this. Worse, I hate that Storm has put me in the position to have to.
The worse thing is the missing him. I missed him from the very first second, the moment I watched his life drain away. I knew that he was gone, and I knew that I missed him. I miss his grumpy, crabby morning presence. I miss his voice drawling into his video game mic. I miss him holding open the blankets to welcome me to bed, then folding me in his arms like I was his teddy bear. I miss him bossing the dogs. I miss his laughter and his humor and his face, his sexy smile, his unwavering love. I really miss his face. I miss his kisses. I miss his sex. I miss his friendship.
This one human being was my life for eight years, and the hole he left behind is so big, I don't think it will ever be filled again. All that I can do is wake up tomorrow, and remember this is the day the Lord has made, I should rejoice and be glad in it.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Day 10
On February 13th, 2015, my husband, Storm Treasure, made the decision to take his life and leave me alone on purpose. I decline to share the ugly details.
I miss my husband. He was crazy. Truly. He shared his mental health history with me early in our relationship. I will not tell his tales except to say that he was crazy, he acknowledged this freely, and he had often told me he was on the edge of suicide many times before meeting me. Something about loving me gave him the strength to want to live. His love for me wasn't bigger than his hate for himself.
I still can't make sense of it. Our life together was a rich life, full of goodness and happiness. We had an argument...a rare event in our world. I still don't understand how an argument turned into a dead husband. I don't know how a man who professed to anyone that would listen that his wife was the love of his life could throw that away so easily, in the shrug of a shoulder. I don't understand why he was leaving me. I don't understand any of it.
I feel betrayed. I feel so angry and frustrated. I feel so overwhelmed. My life is in shatters. My world is broken, and so am I. My tears never stop coming. My heart is broken.
My home is full of memories, and I trip over them everywhere I turn. I cannot avoid him as I drive down the streets, remembering moments and days when we did mundane things like talk about the traffic and shop. There's no place I can go in this town where there's not the memory.
I still talk about him in the present. "The way Storm and I train our dogs..." "The way Storm prefers for me to keep it..." It hurts me all over again. It hits me all over again.
I don't wake up in the morning and ever not remember. Not once. Each day, it's upon me like an oppression, pressing down on my soul.
I feel like it's hard to live. It takes me three hours to make a meal out of pre-cooked turkey breast and instant mashed potatoes. Just cooking the meal, after the many delicious meals cooked by my husband, makes me cry, because he will never cook for me again.
There are many things he will never do again. He will never touch my face and say, "My Rose, do you feel loved?" He will never again ask me why I married him. He will never again pull me in his arms and make it better. He will never again whisper in my ear that he loves me. He will never have a mundane conversation about my new shoes again. He will never make me a rose bath. He will never tell me how shtoopid he was. He will never again make me laugh with my head thrown back and no care of how it sounds. He will never break our electronics. He will never meet his grandson. He will never see the sun set over the Pacific Ocean while we watched the waves ever again.
Everything makes me angry. Stupid people make me angry. My dogs make me angry. Driving makes me angry. He makes me angry. I'm so fucking angry. Because every time I think to myself how much I loved my husband and how much he loved me it is immediately followed by the painful thought that he threw it all away it was so important to him. That he left me on purpose. We ruined it with our anger and pain and hateful words and shouting. Our final moments together were not ones of love and kindness, but bitterness and frustration. I can't just love my husband and miss him...I have to remember the pain and the anguish and the hurt that came at the end.
I want to begin healing, but I don't know how to live without him. I never imagined a life that he wasn't a part of. I don't know what I even want without him. I am lost without him. My world is broken and it cannot be fixed.
I miss my husband. He was crazy. Truly. He shared his mental health history with me early in our relationship. I will not tell his tales except to say that he was crazy, he acknowledged this freely, and he had often told me he was on the edge of suicide many times before meeting me. Something about loving me gave him the strength to want to live. His love for me wasn't bigger than his hate for himself.
I still can't make sense of it. Our life together was a rich life, full of goodness and happiness. We had an argument...a rare event in our world. I still don't understand how an argument turned into a dead husband. I don't know how a man who professed to anyone that would listen that his wife was the love of his life could throw that away so easily, in the shrug of a shoulder. I don't understand why he was leaving me. I don't understand any of it.
I feel betrayed. I feel so angry and frustrated. I feel so overwhelmed. My life is in shatters. My world is broken, and so am I. My tears never stop coming. My heart is broken.
My home is full of memories, and I trip over them everywhere I turn. I cannot avoid him as I drive down the streets, remembering moments and days when we did mundane things like talk about the traffic and shop. There's no place I can go in this town where there's not the memory.
I still talk about him in the present. "The way Storm and I train our dogs..." "The way Storm prefers for me to keep it..." It hurts me all over again. It hits me all over again.
I don't wake up in the morning and ever not remember. Not once. Each day, it's upon me like an oppression, pressing down on my soul.
I feel like it's hard to live. It takes me three hours to make a meal out of pre-cooked turkey breast and instant mashed potatoes. Just cooking the meal, after the many delicious meals cooked by my husband, makes me cry, because he will never cook for me again.
There are many things he will never do again. He will never touch my face and say, "My Rose, do you feel loved?" He will never again ask me why I married him. He will never again pull me in his arms and make it better. He will never again whisper in my ear that he loves me. He will never have a mundane conversation about my new shoes again. He will never make me a rose bath. He will never tell me how shtoopid he was. He will never again make me laugh with my head thrown back and no care of how it sounds. He will never break our electronics. He will never meet his grandson. He will never see the sun set over the Pacific Ocean while we watched the waves ever again.
Everything makes me angry. Stupid people make me angry. My dogs make me angry. Driving makes me angry. He makes me angry. I'm so fucking angry. Because every time I think to myself how much I loved my husband and how much he loved me it is immediately followed by the painful thought that he threw it all away it was so important to him. That he left me on purpose. We ruined it with our anger and pain and hateful words and shouting. Our final moments together were not ones of love and kindness, but bitterness and frustration. I can't just love my husband and miss him...I have to remember the pain and the anguish and the hurt that came at the end.
I want to begin healing, but I don't know how to live without him. I never imagined a life that he wasn't a part of. I don't know what I even want without him. I am lost without him. My world is broken and it cannot be fixed.
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