So I found myself a widow and single mother at 32. I told everyone I was fine…but I was anything but fine. Drowning in agonizing depression, I thought back to my wedding. I remember us spending the night together before the wedding, because after all, we lived together. Waking up the morning of the wedding and being so excited. Telling each other, “I’ll see you later today.” I remember saying our vows and how deeply I felt them. How deeply I felt that I had found and was now marrying my best friend. It had been a long time since I cried tears of joy and on that day, I sobbed. Who knew almost 5 years later I would be crying for a completely different reason. How quickly life changes; literally in the blink of an eye.

I was not fine. I would sit in my living room and stare at the TV like a zombie while my 2 yr old was playing. I was not fine. Going through the motions of the day but not actually processing any of it. I remember giving my child anything she wanted…tangible things. But the thing she needed most, I could not give. I could not give her ME. I couldn’t be there for myself let alone show up for my kid. Whatever she wanted, I got. Anything to keep her happy. But I still couldn’t give her ME. It hurts to admit that. I have never said it aloud. I am human. Family and friends would call or come by; frequently at first but that began to fade and before long you are left to your own thoughts. A dangerous place to be…in the dark recesses of your own mind. I learned that people mean well, they really do. But phrases like “God never gives you more than you can handle” or “this too shall pass” aren’t particularly helpful. Prior to having to deal with the death of a loved one, I would say things like that because I thought somehow the words would be comforting…THEY’RE NOT. So now I never say them. I remember thinking I would rather people not say anything than to say that. It seemed so rote, like did you really put thought into that before you said it? Or were you just repeating what you’d heard a thousand times before?

I was not fine, but in time…a long time, I would be. My husband always told me “you are stronger than you know.” I found out years later (like last week, lol) how true that was. But I didn’t feel strong. I was managing to muddle through life. I’d lost the head of my house; the person who was my other half. I had never really done well by myself. I had always lived with someone. I left my parents house and went to college with a roommate. From there, to nursing school with another roommate. After graduation, my best friend and I lived together until I bought a house. I found comfort in allowing someone else to take over. I’ve always found comfort in a clearly delineated plan; I didn’t (and still don’t) do well with the abstract things in life. So when I lost my other half, my partner in crime, my best friend, the head of my house…what the hell was I gonna do now? Learning to rely on myself is something that deserves it’s own separate post but know that it DOES and has come…with time.

I was not fine. I had unhealthy coping mechanisms to prove that. I began drinking a glass of wine a night just to take the edge off. I wanted to numb the pain; I just wanted to sleep. I couldn’t get enough sleep. One glass a night turned into half a bottle a night turned into a whole bottle. This went on for months until I sank into an even deeper depression. I told no one. No one had a clue. This too is the first time I’ve admitted that. The truth is it hurts but what I have learned is that you HAVE to go through it. You can try to numb the pain, you can try to evade the pain but you have to go through the process.

You know, when you imagine your life growing up, it’s always cupcakes and roses, right? You tell yourself you’re going to marry a Prince and have a certain amount of kids and you think about where you’re going to live. I had a plan for my life: graduate high school, graduate college and get married then after a couple of years have a couple kids and live happily ever after. Most of that came true. I did graduate high school and then went on to graduate nursing school. Met a guy and had a child and was waiting for the happily ever after. That’s what we are supposed to believe, right? I had met a man who loved all the women in his life so fiercely from his mother, his sister, his aunts to me. I felt protected when I was with him. There was no doubt in my mind that he was going to love our daughter just as fiercely. He was such a loving and attentive person; we needed each other. He was the yin to my yang. We were like peanut butter and jelly, socks and shoes…we just went together. He helped me to not take myself so seriously and I like to think I encouraged him to be a bit more mature. He would take our daughter on “adventures” while I was at work. I could just picture being a daddy’s girl and closer to him than to me. I could picture the two of them ganging up on me and him taking her side and making me the bad guy. I envisioned my life so differently.

What is the saying, “we make plans and God laughs?” Have you ever felt as if you have had the rug pulled from under you? Like you just couldn’t breathe? Like you were just alone, no matter how many people are around you? I wouldn’t wish those feelings on anyone. The day that I found out my husband died was the loneliest day of my life. I remember walking to my car as I left work thinking “what am I supposed to do now?” I couldn’t believe that the man I had just said I love you to not 4 hours prior, was now dead. How was I going to tell my two year old that her father was not coming home? I had so many questions that day; more questions than answers. How could my world come undone so quickly? What had I done to deserve this? How was I going to go on?