I know, I've been slacking. I haven't written in this blog for almost 4 months. I've been writting in my journal and working on my book, but for some reason everytime I sat down at my laptop to write HERE I'd break down. And I am so TIRED of breaking down and picking my ass up. You see living with my two furbabies (cats) means no one can pick me up but me. But I do it all the time. Every few days I crumble and piece myself back together strand by strand.

Tomorrow Tim would have been 35. And I was planning a massive surprise party for him. Complete with a Chicago Bears theme, tickets to a game and a week in the Windy City. It would have been the best thing I could have ever done for him in his eyes. But instead, I will visit his grave at sunrise and lay the blue rose I chose as I shed tears for the love of my life and the life that was stolen from us.

I've also been busy the last few months climbing those pesky roadblocks that always seem to be right around the bend. What have I done? Well since you asked I've:

• Said goodbye to persons who were not helpful, supportive or understanding of my pain and grief.
• Bought a car - well not any car, but "our" first car. His name is Bear, his plate says BearsGrl cause that's what I am, and Tim would have loved it
• I drive everywhere and anywhere now - I am planning several roadtrips this summer
• The t-shirt quilt in memory of Tim is being designed and should be ready well in time for Autumn when I'll need it on our bed
• My memorial tattoo is being designed by one of Tim's friends and I will get inked later this summer
• I've been mediation free since the last week of January. 4 months now and NO intention of going back
• I am cooking again - not every meal, but a few times a week
• My balcony garden is almost ready for Spring/Summer blooming - just a few more annuals to plant

So you can see, I haven't been exactly twittling my thumbs.

But as I said to a friend whose 11 month old son I was holding, wishing he was mine: These are all just distractions. These are things I HAVE to do, not necessarily want to do. I have very little joy that eminates from these things, events, moments. I am not happy and can't remember what that feels like. Sure I have had moments where I am crying tears because I am laughing so hard, but they are far and few between. I am still just existing - I have yet to return to living. I am not sure if I ever will. 17 months is around the corner as is 1 1/2 years. And I feel just as lost as I did on day one.

I heard this song a while ago; Josh Groban's Awake. It drove me to tears. I sobbed for hours just listening to the words. I kept thinking of Tim and how it felt like this song was written from my darkest journal moments.

I heard it again today. Again I was brought to a sobbing ball on the floor. Again I ached for him. Again, and again, and again. It hurts. It will always hurt. These are the beautiful lyrics which capture so much of what I have been through.

A beautiful and blinding morning
The world outside begins to breathe
See clouds arriving without warning
I need you here to shelter me
And I know that only time will tell us how
To carry on without each other

So keep me awake to memorize you
Give me more time to be this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

If I could make these moments endless
If I could stop the winds of change
If we just keep our eyes wide open
Then everything would stay the same
And I know that only time will tell us how
To carry on without each other

So keep me awake for every moment
Give us more time to be this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today
We'll let tomorrow wait, you're here, right now, with me
And all my fears just fall away, when you are all I see

We can't stay like this forever
But I have you here today
And I will remember
Oh I will remember
Remember all the love we shared today

http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=AbpGUGIo3ME

I just want the pain to end.....

That's the best way to describe the last 13 months. 13 months ago I lay in bed with Tim, lying on his chest as we watched LOST Season 3, and as he ate Bailey's ice cream. He was smiling. He was happy. We were in our flannel pj's on our new fuzzy sheets and we were happy.

Fast forward to tonight. I have been suffering the worst bouts of nausea, have thrown up repeatedly over the last 4 days, have been unable to keep anything down including crackers and toast, I am dehydrated, scared and alone. 13 months. How has this become my life?

I've told my doctor no more anti-depressants. Not because I was worried about the bleeding disorder they made worse, or because I am better ( I am FAR from better, I think I am actually worse). But for 13 months I have been functioning because of these tiny pills and coming off them has been absoute hell. I am already dealing with a body ravaged by a virus that has not only given me the flu, and then a case of hives, as well as this new form of nausea. I am already dealing with what has been the worst month emotionally for me since Tim died. And why should anything be easy for me? Withdrawl from these medcations has been brutal. I am unable to function. I sleep for 15-18 hours a day. I throw up all the time. I sweat and feel hot in -20 degree Celsius weather. I have headaches which feel as if my head is going to expolode. And this is after my doctor has weaned me off them slowly. This is withdrawl done professionally and correctly. I feel like a crack addict who is jonsing for her next hit. I want it all to end. I wish this pain that is ravaging me from the inside out would just end. I wish I was just dead.

But I am not. I am still here. I am trapped in this body and forced to live this life. I have been crying and screaming for him all month long. I wake up in the middle of the night reaching out for him only to realize again for the 400th time he isnt there. I look for him. I ache for him. I need him like no one can imagine. And I am here alone. No one can possibly understand what it feels like to cry, throw up, scream, and be in so much emotional pain every day for 13 months. And this isn't over. My withdrawl will last at least a few more days, maybe weeks. But I will be forever in withdrawl from Tim. I was not weaned off him. He was ripped and taken from me. We were happy and then 12 hours later my world was forever gone. It was replaced with a mind who is confused, a body who is unable to cope, and a soul forever tortured. And this has been the last 13 months.

Some people think because a year has passed I should be over it, over him, and getting on with my life. Amid the spells of throwing up I laugh. What exactly do you think I have been doing the last 13 months. I have been trying to make sense of this new life of mine and am getting through it. I will never get over it. A year.....is not enough to pave over a lifetime of memories we will never have or the years of memories we did. A year, is not enough to repair my heart and soul from being ripped in half. A year is never going to be enough time to get used to a lifetime without Tim. A year is just 12 months of agony to be followed by more pain.

Excuse me...I think I am going to throw up again.

I called the lady who is going to turn the 40 or so t-shirts I have boxed up into a quilt. Anyone who knew Tim will remember his love for a good comfy t-shirt, and he was most comfortable in one. He had work ones, Disney ones, the beer ones (aka free ones), the volunteer event crew ones, and concert/theatre ones from our trips and adventures. He also had one that pre-dated me - his Leahy one. Yes, that is not a typo. A Leahy one. Its tattered, it has holes, its faded, and it will be at the centre of the quilt. I thought I was.ready to have them be carefully crafted into this King sized quilt. I am not so sure anymore. If they get cut up I can't snuggle into them ever again. When I have a meltdown and want to feel his arms around me and get lost in the smell of him I can't. But then again that's the point of the quilt. So I can wherever or whenever I can have him around. I can remember the places we went, the events we got to see, and the amazing times we had spread over our 7 years. Am I ready - no I never will be ready. But I think its time. I meet her next week to talk about patterns, fabrics, and styles. We should have been decorating our house and picking fabrics for our drapes. Nope I am not ready for this. But its here and I have to face it. He is never going to walk in our front door and hold me in his arms. I will have to be content with wrapping his favourite things around me, closing my eyes, and feeling his breath on my neck. Forever.

So I went to the local hospital yesterday because they have a walk-in care centre instead of a full emergency room, and my hives were significantly worse than the day before. And I was slapped in the face by everyone who asked me about my husband/boyfriend/partner. I have never felt so aware of the fact I no longer am part of a couple than I did yesterday.

Triage Nurse: So who brought you in today?
Me: No one. I came alone.
TN: Oh, well if you happen to go in before your husband comes, what's his name so we can send him in?
Me: Um. I don't have a husband. He died over a year ago.
TN: Oh I'm sorry. Is anyone coming for you?
Me: Nope. No one even knows I am here.

Doctor: So are you taking an anti-histamine?
Me: Yes I am taking Benadryl but it doesn't seem to be working.
D: Oh you didn't drive yourself here I hope - they can cause drowsiness.
Me: Nope came by bus. No car so we're ok.
D: Well we are going to give you a shot of steriods and send you home with more steriods and we'll also give you a shot of Benadryl.
Me: Mumh, ok. How long do I have to wait to see an effect and then can I go?
D: Well I don't recommend taking the bus. Would you like to use our phone to call your husband?
Me: No thanks I don't have a husband.
D: Well can we call your boyfriend then? Someone has to be able to come get you.
Me: Nope, no boyfriend either. I'm a 29 yr old widow. I guess I'll call my sister to see if she can pick me up.
D: Oh. I'm sorry. Let us know if you need a taxi chit in case no one can get you.
Me: Ok thanks.

I miss that. I miss calling Tim knowing he would be there in the blink of an eye to resuce, save, or help me. I miss knowing that there was one person in the world who always wanted to be by your side taking care of you. I miss having someone hold my hand when I am worried about the rash growing all over me, and telling me it's going to be ok. I miss lying my head on his chest so I could melt away my fears and be safe in his arms. I miss being the couple we were. I miss him so very much. I miss knowing that I always had someone to call. I miss knowing he'd always be there.

Hospitals are lonely places. I know that because of when Tim was sick in 2006 & 2007 and I spent a full week there each time, leaving only for an hour each day to shower. They are not places you want to be alone. But I am alone. Sure there are tons of family and friends around, but there is no one to pick up all the things Tim was for me. There is no one who can replace who he was to me. And as I sat there yesterday, he just kept flooding my mind. As I looked around at all the families and couples (young and old) I became more and more sad with the notion that I am no longer one of these pairs. I don't have another half - he died and took most of me with him. I no longer have a partner in life. I just have me.

Being alone - not sure it is something I will ever get used to. It seems as if the world was made for pairs and I will never understand why mine was taken away so soon. I found in Tim my perfect partner, my life mate, my love, my best friend, and the person I wanted to wake up to every moring until I died.

Why, when I found all that, was it taken away? I will never quite understand.

I survived the day, and actually enjoyed myself. Minus the migriane headache and bouts of nausea. Not sure what that's all about. But even though I was dreading this day, and what turning 29 was all supposed to be about for me, it wasn't as bad as I expected. Does this mean I am "okay" now - no silly rabbits. I am still processing the last 386 days since he died. It just means I didn't have a shitty day, that I enjoyed people wishing me well, giving me gifts and flowers, treating me to dinners (which by the way not necessary at all, but greatly appreciated!!), and I had an OK day. There is nothing wrong with having an OK day, and having an OK day does not preclude me from having more crappy, depressing, sad, miserable, grief stricken days in the near future. They will come. The bastards are known to come in bouts and clusters as my widow friends know. But, today was not one of them. And I know he is proud of me for actually wanting to enjoy my 'day' and celebrate that I am still alive (no idea why or how) and that I am loved by many, not just him.

Today can't replace the large whole in my heart he took when he died, but it certainly stopped the pain for a few hours.

So thank you...I have 4 more hours of specialness left and I am going to go enjoy them if I can.

xoxo

I have been suffering off and on with it for the last year. I went from a girl who could sleep anywhere, anytime, and soundly all night long, to someone who is lucky to get 3-4 hours a night all broken up into 45 minute sections.

I could not sleep last night. I tossed, I turned, I pulled off the blankets, I snuggled under them, I counted sheep, I took a sleeping pill, I watched CNN, and nothing. Nope not even fluttering eyelid. At 4 am I said to hell with this all and was going to "get up" and then I yawned. And my eyes closed gently, and I feel asleep. This time for 3 whole uninterrupted hours. That's progress!
This insomnia bullshit comes and goes in waves like my grief. I think its getting better...one-two nights of crappy sleep versus weeks on end.

Just when you think you are getting used to what is the new normal, bang! Something reminds you that this is far from over and the road ahead is quite long. At least I am not working today so I might be able to pull off a midday nap with the cats. A girl can dream can't she?