81 days and counting

They say that the first year after a spouse’s death is the most dangerous year for the survivor. in that year, they could join them for the sheer grief that they feel.

It’s been 81 days.

The grief feels like a mountain sitting on my chest.

The anxiety because I am an immigrant here and I am at risk just by being here is pushing me hard against the wall.

The pain I feel when I realize his hand no longer reaches for mine at night.

The loneliness I feel when I realize he no longer sits in his easy chair.

The unloved feeling… do people love me for me or because I was his? And will I ever find anyone that wants to take care of me like he did? Is there anyone who would love me like he did?

81 days since he breathed his last…

With the stress of the estate having to go to probate. I have another month to get through.

I am freezing here. Yes, it’s one of the warmest states, but I leave the heat off. I leave the lights off. I leave it dark to conserve electricity and more. Somehow, I managed to bring the rent bill down by about $400 by doing so. That’s good, right?

I was going through the garage over the last few days to find tiny items that could be sold. I found one last jewelry box, but it’s full of broken pieces, except maybe I have a watch that is worth selling?

Yah, I got scammed by a jeweler. I also had stuff up in an auction and the items did not go for as high as I thought they would. I hope more sells in a later auction.

I want out of this house. I can’t stand the silence. I can’t stand how lonely I feel. I can’t stand that there isn’t another living, breathing human here.

There is a new feline though. He wouldn’t let me have even a hamster, but now I have a kitten. I tried a dog, but she was too much for me medically, even though she knew when my blood sugar was low. I had to return her and do her that kindness. The kitten is spoiled of course. I named her Twinkle instead of her shelter name of Twinky.

81 days…

I have 285 to go to make it to a year and a day since his death. 285 days of trying to cope.

Yes, I am looking for work.

Yes, I am accepting donations and more.

Friends may have started a gofundme. I started a patreon for the GU to keep it running.

I did two things purely for myself this month. I went to D&D.

And I went to an SCA event.

Or rather…

I went home…

I miss the SCA.

I got to talk to BJo Trimble. After I stopped fangirling that is.

But that event…

I was home.

And I felt normal for the first time in 78 days.

285 to go.

Will I make it or will the pain of his loss take me to him? I’ve lost weight and my A1C has dropped and I don’t think I need my afib medicine anymore.

I need a shoulder for my tears.

I need to feel loved, be loved, and know that it’s safe for me to love whoever this new person is in my life.

I need someone to love me and protect me as if they were him.

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

“Keep living, you’re his legacy.”