Six months

So I sit here six months after losing the first love of my life and wonder what I can do to help myself through this journey as well as help others.  I have always had this love of writing and it keeps nagging at me that I should write things down, even if no one wants to read it.  That my journey is something I should share with myself in 5 years or even with my kids when that time comes.

So what have I learned through this journey so far.  That what doesn't kill me does make me stronger.  That family be it biological or not is really amazing at being there no matter what.  That kids really are resilient even as parents we try to protect them, but not all things are predictable.  I think back to my friend Kippi, who always listened to my rants about everything, she told me once that no matter how much you try to protect them there cards are already dealt.  That I hate the words I'm so sorry.  You have nothing to be sorry for, I know that sounds harsh but you didn't deal me this hand, just hold my hand and let me know you care.  I know my therapist tells me I should just say thank you, but I don't want to be thankful that Shawn is gone.  I want to be thankful he isn't suffering anymore, and some days I am, but others I still get so angry that this was the hand given to him.

I also realized that even though I love my friends and family there are days when I just can't be around people living what appears to be their normal lives.  I know each persons version of normal is different and we all have things we suffer in life.  I remember early on in our marriage Shawn would have down days and he would drink and have these what I would call pity parties.  About how miserable things in his life had been.  I would listen and then tell him you can have these parties but don't involve me because we all have rough times it is who and what you make of them that makes you who you are.  I have always refused to be the victim...not that I don't have my days where I let myself battle that demon, but I refuse to let this define me.

I think the hardest question I still get asked is how Shawn passed.  I have found the easiest answer to be that he lost his battle with PTSD.  Many understand what that means and I don't have to use such an ugly sounding word as suicide.  It is easier and easier to talk about each day, but I still have my moments where I just fall apart and then I get embarrassed that everyone is looking at me crying uncontrollably. 

I have also revisited my belief about talking ill of the dead.  I always thought it was bad karma to say things that were mean about people who passed on.  However if you have never been around someone who is suffering from PTSD and chronic pain then you will not understand how ugly and dark those people can become.  Don't get me wrong I loved Shawn with all that I am and all of my heart, but he slowly became someone I didn't know.  He had his shinning days where we all saw the man I married, the one that so proudly served his country, the amazing father that I knew him to be.  However the medications that he was taking to help with the pain started him down this dark path, that allowed the depression and PTSD to take over his mind.  He became paranoid, and moody, and that makes all this harder in some ways because all I wanted to do was help him.  Some are lucky and can get the help they need or desire, but some like my husband was so busy wanting to help others, that he didn't want to see the demons breaking down his defenses. 

I sit here today a little over six months since losing him and I miss him everyday.  I probably will for the rest of my life...However I have found hope as well.  Hope in the fact that my children aren't afraid of his mood swings anymore.  Hope that he gave me such an amazing base in setting our kids up for the future that together we are still raising them.  Hope that even though normal has changed the new normal might be just as amazing.