Not Ready to Make Nice

Forgive sounds good. Forget? I'm not sure I could. They say time heals everything, but I'm still waiting.

I want to write tonight. It's scheduled on my calendar. I'm committed to blogging once a week. I know better than to listen to my own excuses, even though watching Elf with my roomy and her boyfriend sounds a lot more fun than spending a few hours of my life writing about anything having even the slightest connection to the fact that I was widowed by suicide. I thought I'd want this week's blog to be about the half-marathon I ran on Sunday and how Mark is all tied up in my running, but I'm not feeling that tonight. I've considered many topics, and they've all led me to the same conclusion: This sucks.

I'm not actually all that sad about Mark right now. Today was quite marvelous. Work was busy, and I took on a few new challenges in the office. The weather was beautiful. I met a friend at a coffee shop where we caught up for a few hours. Then I came home and was treated to a delicious and healthy dinner. All was looking pretty good until it came time to blog. I have plenty of ideas for posts, but each subject seems to have a rather heavy and cumbersome sack of guilt strapped to its back.

I can hear them watching Elf downstairs, and it just got to the scene in which they sing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' in the bathroom. The instant it started, I closed my eyes and smiled. That was Mark's favorite Christmas song. AND THIS ISN'T HELPING ME BLOG ABOUT HOW I'M NOT READY TO MAKE NICE WITH MARK ABOUT A LOT OF THINGS!

Or maybe it is...

My first thought is that I don't want to leave anybody with a poor impression of Mark. I know this is inevitable; the man did kill himself, and we live in a time when stigma still surrounds suicide. Some people aren't ever going to think highly of Mark, and that's not my problem. But I really do want to honor all that was good and wonderful about him. I'm also committed to sharing authentically, but everything that I can come up to write about requires that I include some details that don't represent him favorably. Clearly, this is still of concern to me. Blogging has helped me sneak in a few bits of information here and there, rather than coming out and saying it all at once. If you ask me about Mark in person, I'll tell you the good, the bad, and (some of) the ugly. Very few people know any of the ugly, and I myself am so confused about some of the stuff that Mark lied about that it's almost not even worth retelling. But I don't mind saying bits and pieces of it in person. 

The truth that lies behind my wanting to leave people thinking well of Mark is that I'm embarrassed that I, being the genius that I am, completely missed, put up with or ignored countless ridiculousnesses in our marriage, some of which now occur to me as obvious signs that Mark was depressed, and all of which leave me wanting to run away and start a new life where nobody knows me.

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE!

Man, it feels good to just come out and say that. It's not quite good enough for me to say all the things I'm embarrassed about, but it's a start. I need only notice how happy I've been lately to know that I truly have forgiven Mark on many levels, and I'll take the case that it's probably time to look in the mirror and forgive myself for all the things I'm still embarrassed about. I feel like I'm in limbo somewhere between anger and acceptance, or maybe this is a delayed version of "the bargaining phase". The stages of grief are not linear, but they are predictable.

PSA: I propose we title a few new stages of grief, such as "the floozy stage", in which one finds themself being promiscuous with just about anyone who is willing to play along. Another I've seemingly passed through is what I call "the crying stage", which is not to be confused with the stage referred to for its sadness and depression. I mean a stage that is literally just crying. Over anything. For no apparent reason. In any place. At any given moment. Around this time last year, I cried for about four weeks straight. ALL THE TIME. Maybe it was the holidays. I just know I couldn't stop crying. But more on my suggested stages of grief in another post.

So, there you have it. I'm embarrassed. In my defense, because I fully anticipate receiving messages from people who worry that I'm sitting around blaming myself for Mark's suicide, I'm a fairly level-headed person, despite being a touch crazy. Some people in similar situations as mine don't even get out of bed every day. I fully understand this, and I went through a tremendously challenging period this year in which I did very little other than go to work, which I barely pulled off some days. And this isn't even addressing the disaster that I was in the first six months. But in the grand scheme of things, I'm doing well, at least the last few months. I've taken great strides in moving forward, and I have no qualms about that I am doing better than most people in my position would be. I deal with myself; maybe not all the time, but I take the actions I need to take in order to move forward and live a life I love. 

But I'm still human, and oooooh, sometimes emotions come at you full force! This is also okay. If I've discovered anything out of losing my husband to suicide, it's that life does keep moving forward. This was a hard lesson to learn, but life goes on. It will with or without you. The world keeps turning; time keeps passing. And thank goodness for that! I'm not a big fan of expressions suggesting that time heals everything. It doesn't. In fact, time hasn't healed a damn thing for me. I've done a great deal of healing on my own, thank you very much. I did the work, and I continue to do it, albeit not alone. Countless other humans have contributed to my growth and healing. It is a choice to keep living instead of merely surviving. But the passing of time certainly helps in the process. Things shift over time, and I daresay that all my embarrassment too shall pass. 

Before you know it, I'll have published a book and will be interviewed on television, as well as invited to Washington D.C. to meet with Gen. Mattis, just like in a dream I had a few months ago. You'll know all about the things I'm working so hard to hide right now. I'll be speaking at large events and inspiring even more people to share their stories, even the ugly ones. It's going to be marvelous.

But for now, I'm going to bed. Should you find yourself feeling very low and looking for someone to talk to whilst I bask in the comfort of my bed, please refer to my Resources & Support page or send me a message/comment.