Stuck

OPEN THE DOOR!! Fists pounding. OPEN THE DOOR!! More fists pounding into metal and then me screaming my head off . . . that is how I awoke this morning at 6:22 am - right back in the garage. My heart is racing as I look around and realize I am in bed, not the garage and I try to calm myself down and push, no shove the images as far away from my mind as I can. But they linger and as I desperately try to get back to sleep the images, his face, that day, my life just flatten me like huge heavy stones across my chest.

I stayed in bed feeling the weight of the world crush me and only handed the remote to the kids when they awoke as I hid under the covers. But Sponge Bob and his insane laughter makes sleep an impossibility as do my fears of the recurring nightmare. Besides the children would surely start eating their fingers if I don’t get out of bed soon. So I get up and start the day.

Just another Saturday – 22 weeks - here I go again.


I am so annoyed with myself for being unable to keep these memories at bay. Every photo of my husband in the house – no matter which one I look at turns into his dead body in my mind. I can’t stop looking at the photos because for one brief instance they bring me peace – but then the pain and the awfulness switch on and sorrow soon follows. I can only assume I am either a glutton for punishment or the split second of happy thoughts is worth the pain. I am not sure.

I needed to get out of the house today – I am suffocating in the boxes and the chaos and the anxiety of it all. I needed fresh air. The children and I went to go look at a day camp for the summer. I didn’t love it – not sure I would like anything these days. But it just wasn’t what I pictured for them and thought I could do better at mommy camp then this place. As I drove away I remembered that I saw a lake in the camp’s brochures. It wasn’t on the tour but I distinctively remember seeing one so I made a u-turn and went back.

Right before the camp there was an odd road and I turned onto it not sure that I would find. Blissfully I found the lake and a small beach and a playground and to me it was just perfect. We bundled up, got out of the car and for the next two hours just explored. I taught the kids to skip rocks, we hiked in the woods and they ran around the playground. It was wonderful, even on a Saturday. I could see us going back there just to get away and hide from the world and see a little bit of nature too.

I couldn’t help but feel sad at moments, like when I was sitting on a bench watching the kids run and play. I was lonely and missing the person who should have been sitting next to me. I felt him holding my hand and heard him talking to me – he would have loved today. Well maybe not the hiking through the woods part – but everything else.

What bothers me the most is that I just feel stuck. It has been 22 weeks since my husband died and time means nothing. I am the same I was 22 weeks ago; miserable, sad, confused, lonely and mourning. But I watch as the world unfolds around me. I see spring coming and the earth is changing but I am not. I watch my friend’s lives blossom and grow and change and I am so happy for them – yet I am still stuck in my own little miserable world. Friends are having babies, buying houses, excelling in careers, taking trips and I am just stuck right in the middle of my so called life. I am trying not to look back, but can’t move forward and it feels terrible. Feels like I am being left behind by my husband, the world and my life.

I long for the day that I can awaken and not feel instance sorrow. I long for a time when I can reflect back fondly on my husband and not feel the tightness in my chest and the sourness in my stomach. I don’t know how long I will have to wait – maybe till my next life. I just long for a time when I can look at the world and feel better about myself and everything in it.