"If I Could Become A Drinker, I Would" and other musings

Here are some random thoughts and questions from my personal journal of the past year (which is 2 years after The Night It All Changed). It's amazing what flows out if you take pen to paper. I don't often go back and read. It can give me perspective on how much I've healed, but it's very painful too. Don't know why I'm putting it out here, just am.

It should have been me. Not him. Me.

I don't know God. I don't think I ever did.

Gone. All gone. Him. Me. Us. Gone.

Walking in circles. That's what it feels like. Walking in circles.

Is it possible to recover from empty? It doesn't seem so.

If I could become a drinker, I would. But, I can't.

Stepping into the FEAR. That's what I must figure out how to do. Then just do it.

Life is hard. You can strive to make it easy. But it just isn't. Not all the time.

Pain can be bigger, deeper and more painful than one can ever imagine.

Mental health is fragile.

The word 'strong' is an over-used word.

Love is a driving force.

Life is very long - and very short - all at once.

I'm trying very hard not to hate my life.

How do you live life missing someone so much?

Widow busy is different than regular busy. Don't know if I will be un-busy ever again.

I feel an overwhelming need to lay down for a long time to recuperate, rest and recover. But that means I will be laying down for the rest of my life.

Forever is a very long time.

Too much head talk to oneself is a recipe for craziness.

I can't find my place. My place is a place that no longer exists. How to live in a place that doesn't exist?

It's all very, very scary.

Grief is relentless. So is life. So is death.

A line from a book: "And her soul wept." I can relate. Except mine keeps weeping.

I am more than alone. I am without.

I don't know how to renew my soul.

How do you not continuously focus on the loss?

Maybe there are no answers. Just questions.