Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Crying badly this morning missing him a lot. Took both cats crying for food to even get me out of bed. I miss him. 1000 Reminders he is gone


  1. Sending best wishes and warm thoughts. Hundreds of people at the listen any time you need to vent or talk!

  2. It is horrible and awful right now, and that is okay. It WILL get better.

  3. Sending hugs and thoughts your way, lady.

    I am so absolutely sorry that you're in pain. Hang in there. You're so strong!

  4. I am so, so sorry. There are no prefect words to help all that you are going through. If there were, I would send them a million times. There are no quick fixes for grief. Take it as it comes and do what you need for youself. Hugs and good thouhts coming non-stop.

  5. Oh Tashi... I wish I could make it better for you! *hug*

    I'm replying to this message because it's the most recent, but something you wrote yesterday brought back a lot of memories for me. My brother-in-law Jeffrey died ten years ago. He had MD, so his death was hardly unexpected - we had all lived for many years with the knowledge that we would one day find him gone. But as you know, there's no true way to prepare for such a loss, and I can still remember what my sister went through when he finally crossed over. The grief was life-shattering for her, and her method of dealing with the madness was to get angry. A lot of eyebrows were raised by the uninitiated over some of the things she did. As an example, Jeff hated black, always had - and Sis dressed in black head to toe for his funeral. Jeff hated tattoos, so about a month after his passing, Sis got one on her shoulder - his name, no less!

    Looking back now, she sees that her anger was actually grief - she missed him so terribly, and she wanted so badly for him to come back and argue with her. Or laugh with her. Or just be in the same room, it didn't really matter. She just wanted him there.

    It may not have been logical, but emotion and logic don't always go hand in hand, of course. And she can only see it now because she muddled through the pain of his passing and came out stronger on the other side.

    I guess the point of my rambling is that nobody grieves the same way, and nobody else gets to tell you how to mourn the passing of the love of your life. Do whatever you need to do, Tashi... a lot of people have your back, and I'm proud to count myself among them. Hang in there!

    Lots of love,

  6. Tashi, your type of grief, "raw grief" is truly............ without compare.

    It helps----(if you can, and as I've done myself, after a suicide in my Family)----to "fully surrender to your grief":

    A) Just sit directly in a warm bathtub of water............ (and I actually did this AFTER my shower, since I'm not really a "bath person," at all)............ and simply SOB (and save on Kleenex)............ into a big, wet, cotton washcloth for a while.

    B) While I was sobbing, I burned a small, seaspray/ocean-scented votive candle in the bathroom, which was (honestly) so soothing to me.

    C) When you're all cried out, follow that by curling up in a chair or in bed; drinking some hot mint tea with honey, or some hot chocolate; and (if you can)............ then just sleeping for a while.

    D) Although I'm not sure why, the "repeat" part----(of doing "A" through "C")----was really important to me. Maybe (?) the simple "ritual" of it was comforting. Maybe (?) I needed the "warmth," (i.e., of the water, the candle, the hot beverage, the throw/blanket)............ when I felt incredibly cold (and despairing)............ inside. Maybe............ I don't know why, Tashi, except to say that I did this, (i.e., My Own Personal Crying Ritual), every day for at least a month; then periodically afterwards.

    Aching ~ *w.i.t.h.* ~ you............ sending virtual {(hugs)} ~ *t.o.* ~ you -

  7. I don't know you, although I feel like I know you better than I know myself now. Have taken the last 4 days to read your entire journal. Thank you.

    I want to come and take you for a walk. Nothing else, no pressure to talk or anything, just walk.

    How do I ask a stranger who has been through what you have, and now lost her very best friend, if I can come and take her for a walk?