I entered this step surrounded by those who tried to understand this world I had just begun to drown in. The world I never wanted to see. A newness of wonders I never planned on happening. I was hit with the frozen moments of despair. A new life as a widow. Completely learning this title from the ground up.
Words flowed out like the water of apologies to acts of uncomfortable tries of sympathy trying to crack thru the out shell I instantly put on full lockdown. Nothing was going to penetrate the vial I was holding onto. The feeling of complete autopilot covering my motions, while the dam is holding back emotions of tidal waves creating the biggest tsunami I had ever felt deep down, darkness took hold. The me I used to know just died along with him. I just left her with him forever.
This was a walk I can play over and over in my mind even 3 and a half years out. Waves of memories still paralyzed my heart, while the forgotten seconds leave my head in a fog. I reached for every place I could hide into. Not letting my surroundings become stale as to force any sign of movement of healing so far out of my way. I thought finding others like me would help. It did, to a point.
After hearing the all too many cliche’ phrases to kill my spirit which will always last me a lifetime, I found the perfect place to mend my broken spirit where others go who know your name. They get it, they totally understand. Every feeling I wanted to scream, someone else seen it, sprayed it and totally mastered it. The meltdowns felt familiar, the dreams stayed the same. We all could release emotions others seem to think were unacceptable in their safe world. We lent our versions of how to heal from our steps of traveling in this path.
I would feel as if no one understood but someone would spill out there’s and yes it did help. But for me, I needed more. I needed someone who walked exactly in my shoes to dig out from the mud pit I began to take up roots in. I wanted it all to heal in my time, in my way. Not hearing suggestions because how could you understand, you see let me not share what I am afraid of, what I am hurting about, what failures I will walk with day by day. But please, tell me how to push it so far down, I stumble into my own self. And suddenly, that wall scarred me with the hottest iron that had ever pierced my soul.
I had made choices others seen as mistakes but they were mine. I had become half a person and trying to find my other half because of most of my living, breathing life, I was always half of 2. That 2 became one. Here I stood “Half”. Searching for a new way to move into the world I could not complete alone, but I can.
I was the widow who had to learn it alone. Yes, the guidance of those who truly understood helped when I chose to listen to the steps they took. I still had to make my own steps sometimes sinkholes to see the lesson my mistake made. The struggles had their moments of telling me who was in control. My need to drive every motive down its own path of destruction smacking in the face of a still growing family with others who lost a part of themselves too. You see that day, not only did I become a widow, I also became the only parent. Big pants to take on all broken and soaking in darkness.
It has taken some strides and I am sure I will never fully recover because that one strong saying is so not true. Time does NOT heal ALL wounds. This is one I am sure every widow will agree. The scab does crust over, but it never truly heals. Many new occasions, life events, growing pains, and successes will all come and go. With each one that scab will fall off. Opening up the harshness of the reality, you are still the half alone. It does not become the mighty storm of your lifetime but It still forms tornados here and there. Even with every day bringing in a very brand spanking new moment in time, things will grow and new relationships will happen but I will always be the widow who had to do it alone.