"Is there a difference between wanting to die and not wanting to live?"
I read this question somewhere this morning and it stuck in my head. There certainly is a difference between wanting to kill yourself and just wishing that somehow this could all just fade away.
No, this isn't some cry for help. But I am being honest and I need to express this and somehow writing it in a journal just doesn't help me anymore. And, most certainly, allowing these thoughts and feelings to swim around inside of me is not only not helping me, I believe it is making things worse.
Right now I am forcing myself to eat something (I am one of those people who stops eating when I am in turmoil, which only makes matters worse because I am hypoglycemic) because what I would really like to do, and have been attempting to do all morning, is just disconnect. Except that I cannot do it--instead of going numb I just feel more pain. My mind circles and circles into places it really shouldn't go.
Yes, the experience with that woman (she really shouldn't be called a therapist) left me reeling, and I suppose the way I am feeling now is in part due to the low places that that experience took me to. But I am not where I am now because I am filled with worry about my fertility. I have actually found some clarity about that through this experience. I am feeling able to let go of my attachment to a timeline of when we will try again. As I have said before, Mr. C's well being--and the strength of our marriage--is far more important. If that means that we aren't ready to try again for quite a long time then that is what is best. If, however, that also means that my fertility becomes an issue then we will have to deal with that situation if/when we come to it. While I deeply desire to have a child of my own someday I am acutely aware that no child will ever be William, and no child will ever fill the place that he has left. I know with all of my heart that I can love a child as my own even if he/she were birthed by someone else.
What I am feeling stems from a sense of helplessness. Despite the intense pain I was experiencing when I was deeply grieving I always felt like I was in control. Even when I was "out of control," I was still the one who was there--and there was a freedom and sense of power to that. I'm not sure if that makes sense. What I mean to say is that I allowed myself to experience all that grief brought up for me. I placed no limits or *shoulds* upon myself. I knew/believed that grieving was (is) not linear and that it was (is) deeply personal and defies generalizations. But this is so different. I have no real power to help Mr. C through what he is going through, and the road may be very long. At the same time, I feel very anxious that I might say or do the *wrong* things...and make it all worse.
I have this strong sense of not being able to remember what it was like when everything was *OK.* That brings me such pain. I search my mind, my memory, to try to recall--how did we behave? What did we do? When was it that things changed? He talks of feeling like he has lost a part of himself, that he has been *acting* the part of the perfect son/husband/manager/etc. and that the *real* him was lost somewhere along the way. I have known him for 12 years and I believe that I do know the *real* him and that he is a complex, multifaceted person and that all of his qualities are part of who he *really* is. But what I see and think isn't at issue here. I believe I do understand what he is going through and that I have been aware of it since we were dating. To use psychological terms I believe that it is a struggle between the id and the super-ego. I don't mean to over-simplify, though, because added on top of it all has been the trauma of living through a battle with cancer and the loss of his first child.
It is good that he is actively working through things and while it is hard (understatement) for me to hear that he feels that he has been *acting* with me (in addition to other aspects of his life) it is important that he is able to express this. It is so hard to separate my own fears and insecurities though. While I love him deeply and want more than anything to be supportive of him it is bringing up my own issues. Which is why I will continue to look for a suitable therapist. A friend at work gave me the name of a woman she has seen for a few years and recommends highly. I trust this friend and we had a candid conversation about what happened with the incompetent woman on Tuesday so she knows where my need is coming from.
For now I will do my best to try to focus on the here-and-now, and the aspects of my life that I actually can control. I don't mean to be trite.
4 comments:
Nothing trite.
It sucks to feel so powerless and out of control, especially when it concerns a person as important to you as your partner.
As you said, while it is awful to see how badly he is hurting, it is a good thing that he is seeking help.
It takes courage to say whatever happens, we will deal with it then. I have a feeling you two are really good for each other.
A practical suggestion, which you should feel completely free to ignore. Like you, I stop eating when I am extressly stressed or extremely unhappy. However, I've discovered that I find it much easier to force myself to drink than to eat, so there have been times that I've lived on milkshakes.
Not eating, for me, emphasizes my out-of-control feelings and makes me less and less able to face my problems or to find solutions. Anyway, my suggestion is that you find some high calorie food or drink you can tolerate. Because, honestly, everything seems worse when you're not eating.
It makes perfect sense to feel helpless in the face of Mr. C's difficulties, and especially statements like he has been just pretending with you. Do you have a clear sense of what he thinks the problem is? I'm glad he's getting help, but often depressed people tend to lash out at those closest to them and I hate to see you in that position.
Please take care of yourself during this difficult time.
I understand that question completely. Sometimes it does feel very much like it would be nice to go away, but that's different from feeling like doing anything about it. I am so sad to see you and Mr. C are struggling so much, and so angry that that therapist helped to push you there.
Your concern for Mr. C and your belief in your marriage is really so beautiful, and I'm glad you have each other. As sad as I am for him, I agree that it's really important that you keep looking for a therapist, his pain seems like too much for you to bear without help.
I hope your conversation about his feeling that he's been acting was a breakthrough, and that he'll begin to feel more open. Without trying to be trite myself, I don't think his feeling is uncommon among people who've been through trauma.
I like Niobe's practical suggestion. I also drink a lot of tomato juice.
I just stumbled across your blog and firstly I just want to say how sorry I am that you lost William.
I have not been through your whole blog so I'm not 100% sure what is going on in your life but it does sound like there are lots of things going on.
I hope its not to long before things start to fall into place and get back to 'normal'.
Huge hugs
xxx
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