Endoscopies and other fun things

So,

I got my endoscopy. Turns out that I have gastritis.

Now, that makes me sound like a really gassy person. But that's not what it is, folks. haha

It's basically in inflammation of the stomach lining. You can find out more about it here.

So.

No more soda. fuck.

no more tomato based anything. shit.

so.... THAT PIZZA AND COKE I HAD THE OTHER DAY... BAD IDEA!!! I went home and it felt like someone was taking scissors to my insides. gross. that was a weird analogy.

So I have my follow up appt. with my doctor on Aug. 1 and then we will talk about the endoscopy (they also took a biopsy) and my thyroid.

So, I guess these issues with my stomach and my thyroid have put a spike in my anxiety. I have been having some hard nights lately in the sleep department. Well, not like that has changed that much but I do feel like there was a period of a few months after John's death where I could actually sleep ok. In fact, sometimes I looked forward to it. Now, I dread sleep. If it weren't for Ryan I would never go to bed. I would be an insomniac.

Even times when I am completely exhausted my mind won't let me rest.

Last night I had a pretty bad panic attack.

I had a semi-dream (because I still kind of felt awake) that I was having a heart attack.

when I woke up I had sharp pains in my left arm.

Of course this makes the panic worse because that's a symptom of heart attack... but it's also a symptom of panic attack.

Panic attacks make you feel like you are dying.

It's very traumatic... to go through this all the time.

And very exhausting.

I hate living in fear. Fear of death and how I will die.

fear that when I close my eyes to sleep I may never open them again... just like John.

so, i have been taking my clonazapem almost every night now.

It's something I haven't had to do much until recently.

I think it's the stress of starting a new job. Having to re-start my life again. You have to think... 4 schools in 5 years!!!! That's a lot of starting over. That's more schools than some will ever go through before they retire. I have been around. (school wise)

So, tonight I am going to let the Lunesta butterfly take me away and not deal with wondering if I am going to have anxiety or not. I will just sleep it through.

I long for a time when I feel free of this fear. free of anxiety and stress. free of worry.

I long to have dreams again of fancy free times and not wake up from nightmares where I lose John or where I am dying.

I think a first step towards establishing this new inner peace is praying MORE. I don't pray nearly enough and it's evident.

The other night I asked ryan to pray with me and he did... right before bed we held hands. And I felt a sense of relief after.

The other thing I need to do is relax more.

Tension runs in my family.

I have a high strung mom and dad. So, alas here I am.

I let EVERYTHING get to me. God picked the wrong person to be a widow.

So. Advice of stress relief is appreciated.

Yoga may be a start but I have had times when i am hanging in weird poses where I think I am gonna pass out... I rather have massages. But, then it's the money thing.

So.

How to de-stress on a budget????

exhaustion

This moment has come at an unexpected time.
I thought this would be happening more towards the beginning of the grief. Where I wrap myself up in blankets and shut out the world. Where I escape to solitude and sleep through my pain. But that didn't happen before... until now.
The months right after John's death I had a very hard time sleeping. I relied on heavy medication and the comfort of others in order to get sleep. I would wake up in the night sometimes after vivid dreams... sometimes worried to sleep again and go back to them. Sleep was inconsistent.
And now it's like all of a sudden my body wants the sleep that it missed over the past 8 and a half months. And it won't take no for an answer. I have found myself sleeping ALL THE TIME NOW. Even when I got my hair done two days ago... as she was foiling I closed my eyes and started to sleep... next thing you know my head bobs up and down and I get that startled feeling. It was completely embarrassing. And it happened multiple times. The girl was real understanding though. I have fallen asleep in my office at school while on the computer... one minute I am checking email and the next I have a pattern etched into my forehead resembling a keyboard. When I get home from work there is nothing I think about more than cuddling in my cozy bed and just sleeping. I guess it doesn't help that I recently got a new AMAZING duvet for Christmas as well as 1200 thread county egyptian cotton sheets! Oh, and my two new memory foam pillows.
I mean once my head hits that pillow it is almost completely impossible to get up.

Grieving is EXHAUSTING.
I don't think many people get that. I know I must look and sound lazy. But that's not me. I am just completely worn out from grief and stress. The stress of finding a roommate and looking for a new place to live. The stress of trying to achieve weight loss. The grief of losing my soul mate. The grief of learning to live alone. The stress of trying to stay connected with friends and family.
Grief is a chore. It's a job. And the sad part is... there is no taking a vacation from it.

Tomorrow is a long day... filled with errands, packing, doggie drop offs, etc. I am going to FMEA again this year.
But this year will be different.
This will be me going to FMEA as a widow.
I will see people that have not spoken to me since John's death.
Will they bring him up? Will they choose to ignore it?
How will people react to the fact I still wear my engagement ring?
There may be some faces I don't want to see. Or things that will hurt to see. Newly engaged friends... newly pregnant friends... happy couples...
And then there's me. The girl everyone gets to say "I am so glad I am not her" about.
I would feel the same way.
I am THAT girl.
The one people whisper about secretly. The one they monitor with curiosity.
I am very aware of this.. because I know it is how I would react.

I honestly am not a whole lot interested in th conference this year. I hate dressing up for it. I hate wearing high heels all day. I just want to go in with a comfy pair of jeans and nice top and flip flops. I don't want to stress about making a fashion statement.
ugh.
I just don't care so much.
I guess I rather take naps.

dream/nightmare

I am back to blogging. My lap top is being tempermental....it's currently getting some affection by Philip to bring it back to life hopefully.
Oh my goodness I can't believe tomorrow I go back to school.
A different school but school none the less. It's pre-planning week. Time to get my act together. A fresh start at a new school.
I am already loving my relationship I have developed with Nicole. She understands loss... as she also had to deal with it herself when she lost her father at age 12.
My principal rocks. I like her a lot already. I am entering this new school year with good intentions. with as sense of "I can do this." I want to say I am positive. But as I have mentioned before I am a realist.

Two nights ago I attended a goodbye party for a friend. And I went home that night and texted John (yes, I text John still...) and I told him I needed to see his face and wanted to dream about him. Weirdly, the text worked. I had a John dream. But I wake up and sometimes feel worse. I get to see him and then I wake up and feel bad. I come back to the reality that he's not here. So, maybe it's less like a dream and more like a nightmare?
The other day I was going through stuff and found John's dream journal. I gave it to him towards the beginning of our relationship. When John and I first started dating he was REALLY into dreams. In fact before we "officially" dated he had been really into lucid dreaming.
I remember one night after a party I took him and a bunch of his friends to Whataburger late at night... like 3am. John always got Taquitos. Well, he left his phone in my car.
I remember finding it in the car and I opened it up... curious.
The main screen said this "Are you dreaming?"
I was all like "wtf???"
I called him. Told him I had his phone and when he came to get it from me I asked what it meant. He then explained his fascination with lucid dreaming and how sometimes he had to make sure if he was dreaming or not. Talk about freaky. Eventually John stopped lucid dreaming. It started to freak him out too.... he told me his phone helped him and also in dreams he would look at his hands and if they weren't visible or if they were swirling that meant he was in a dream.
I remember a couple days after John died I sat on the stairs and stared at my hands. I wanted them to swirl so bad. I wanted it all to be a bad dream. A nightmare after all. I stared at them for 10 minutes. SWIRL GOD DAMNIT! This isn't real!!!! But of course they didn't swirl. I wasn't dreaming. I was stuck in a real life nightmare and there was no waking up.

Even though John stopped lucid dreaming his obsession with dreams never stopped. He was quite jealous of my vivid dreams and my RECALL of them. His recall was bad. He would forget them easily. So, I bought him a leather dream journal. He used it ONCE. He wrote about a dream he had... and started to write about a second. He started off saying "this dream had importance..."
and that's it. It kills me inside to wonder what it could have been about. What had it been about? It will be another unanswered question for the rest of my life.
John's interest in dreams never went away. I remember seeing the preview for Inception with him. He was PUMPED. He couldn't wait to see it. After watching the movie all I could think about was how John would have LOVED the movie. He would have seen it more than once. He would want to have it on DVD. I wish he would have gotten a chance to go and see it with me. Oh the conversation we would have had on the way home.

Now I am having John dreams. They hurt. I wake up sad. My chest heavy. My heart sometimes racing. Last night I kept dreaming of John's blue feet. I know, so morbid. But it's an image that is burned into my head. it's there all the time. I touched his cold, blue feet. I tickled them. And to not get a response... was terrifying. And in my dream last night that's how I knew he was dead too. All I saw were his feet.
And it happened multiple times. A bad movie playing in my mind. On repeat. Enough already. Can't I just have a dream where John and I kiss each other or have hot sex or get married or have a baby? Why do I have to have these heart wrenching dreams where I keep losing him? Why can't I even have him in my dreams? In a place where anything can happen. I can't keep him even then? How unfair my own mind is being to me.

Two nights ago I had both John AND Mr. Kusy in my dream. As if one dead person wasn't enough. Let's go ahead and add another tragic loss to my life. Two people I cared about very much. There. Meeting together in a dream. Never in real life.

I am praying tonight I get a break.
I get good sleep. Good dreams.
I want to wake up and not have to reach for my anxiety medication right away to keep from entering a full blown panic attack.
Time is going on. This may be getting harder.

Sleeping Alone

Last night I slept alone for the first time since John's death.
I slept with a small lamp on. So, it wasn't completely dark... but I was alone. No one in the bed but me. There was an empty place next to me. The place where John should be. The pillow where he should be resting his head. But it was just me. The sound of a new stand up fan from Wal Mart. It was another step. In a direction I don't like going in. But, I have no choice. I have to take steps... because the last thing I want to do is stay here in this place.
John was around my neck while I slept last night. I haven't taken him off yet. The weight of the necklace is comforting... like it belongs there.
I held on to Waldy all night. He shuffles through the bed as I toss and turn. He doesn't always end up where he starts... but he also remains in the bed next to me. Sometimes I spritz him with John's colognes. It isn't the same. There is something about cologne and the way it mixes with a person's skin and sweat that makes it unique to them. Waldy being mainly polyester.. won't have that same effect.

Since John and I started dating I have always hated sleeping alone.
When he would leave for a weekend with TCI or be gone doing something... I dreaded the nights. I would usually stay up and catch up on TV shows, play video games, or read. I always lit a candle. And I let it burn all night. I would wake up in the mornings and the candle would still be lit...and totally liquidated. I would call him and make him stay up and talk to me until I got tired. He would basically be faling asleep on the phone. We would say I love you a million times. I would call again sometimes just to say it once more. I think after awhile he expected this. He knew one goodbye was never enough. I would wait sometimes just seconds before re-dialing his number and saying again once more how much I missed him and loved him. Call me pathetic or whatever... but I hated being away from his side. We were attached at the hip. We were magnatized.... stuck by a force called eternal love. And I will love him eternally.

Tomorrow I will be getting Cecilia back.
That was our cat.
We found her... John and me. In Tallahassee.
She was ours. She was our baby. She was one of the first things that belonged to "us."
So, tomorrow night I won't be sleeping alone. I will have her.

goodnight

Let's Be Honest

I woke up today in bed thinking.

Then I opened an email.

Then I went on facebook.

Then I read some blogs.

And then it came to my attention that today....I feel like shit.

I HATE the fact that everyone has been moving right along with their lives as if John didn't die almost 2 months ago.

That's not a long time.

I have been reading books on grief and on loss and widowhood and they all mention this time comes. The time when people move on and you are still stuck. That the phone calls become less frequent and the emails. And when people talk to you they want you to smile and act as normal as possible and help you "move on."

IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN TWO MONTHS.

So. It's ok that I feel this way.

And screw anyone that thinks otherwise.

This is a shitty situation.

This wasn't supposed to happen to me or my poor John. My baby. He was so happy and loving his life. He wasn't given a chance. We weren't given a chance. At a life with marriage and buying houses and having babies.

The rug has been yanked from under me and I find myself feeling more and more alone.

Friends have started to call less.

Apparently they can't handle my sadness anymore. Or the ffact that EVERYTHING reminds me of John. I mean, I talked constantly about John when he was alive. Now it's 10x worse. Am I bringing people down?

Oh and then there's the "we just want to give you time to yourself or distance"

Really?

Do you think that's what I need right now?

More alone time?

To me and my crazy thoughts of how my life has turned into utter shit?!

Really now?

Why thank you for being so courteous!

And for the record.

I am not "strong."

I am surviving.

As I have heard from other widows... strong is deciding to climb Mt. Everest. Strong is doing a full marathon. It's a chosen decision.

Surviving is what I am doing.

I am making it day to day. And sometimes those days are dark.

Yes, I do have better days.

But just because I have ONE better day doesn't mean "oh, Autumn is getting through this." Because the next day I can fall right back into that pit of darkness that eats me alive. That leaves me breathless and angry and bitter.

I am trying to live.

I am trying to live because I have no choice.

I am certainly not going to kill myself. Sit in a room in a corner and whither away.

I have decided to live.

But that's about all I have decided.

And then people ask my opinions. What do I want for dinner. Where do I want to go. What movie do I want to see.

I DON'T CARE.

These are stupid questions.

The last thing I care about is whether we have pizza or chinese for dinner.

Sometimes people want to be careful about what they say around me. So they ignore the situation TOTALLY. they don't even say "im sorry for your loss." Then I am left there wondering "do they know?" "should someone tell them I am usually not this weird and lofty?"

Because then I look like a total bitch. Not that I care right now but this was not who I was.

I was not this mopey, sad person.

I hate what I have become but this is what it is for now.

You can't rush me through my grief.

And then there comes the fact where I feel like my grief is hardest. And I do feel this way.

This is something I cannot help. I lost an intimate partner. I lost my future. Every little plan I had solved out for my life involved John.

Imagine that being stripped away from you.

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT?

Most can't.

That's what I hear at least "Oh, Autumn. I can't even imagine."

But I want you to.

I want you to slip into my shoes and I want you to try to get at least some understanding that my life is broken.

My heart is broken.

My world is broken.

I have no idea what my future holds.

People tell me to take it one day at a time and then the exact same people will ask "what are you going to do now?"

WTF!!!!

You just told me to take it one day at a time.

I don't know if I am going back to work.

I don't know where I am going to live.

No, I am NOT washing John's clothes. Probably ever.

I don't know how long I am staying in North Carolina and when I come back to Florida... what the hell am I am doing?! Gypsy time again?

I don't know when I will be able to sleep alone.

Because the dark scares me and I am afraid if something happens I will be alone.

Yes, that's weird. That's called trauma. And I have recognized how that might be weird to some of you. But I found John dead. I touched his dead body and I shook him and I cried out for him and he wasn't there. He died alone in a bed.

I don't want to be alone in a bed.

Why can't people just support me. And stop pushing me.

Pushing me back to where I used to be.

I will never be the same.

And I guess that bothers people. Because a lot of people don't like change. For the worst.

I was one of those.

I was comfortable.

I was content.

And I was FORCED to change.

I can't just magically make things return to normal. Because I lost my best friend.

And I know others mourn for John. I know people cry in their cars or in their beds or whereever.

You are allowed to cry in front of me. It makes me feel like others are still grieving for him. It makes me feel less alone. It's not a misery loves company mantra. It's just a "I get you" kind of thing. And if you don't want to cry or talk. That's ok too. Sometimes just sitting next to me and keeping quiet is what I need. The presence of a body. But silence. That doesn't bother me.

I didn't ask for this suffering.

All I ask is that everyone just lay off and be patient with me.

Pardon the weird requests.

And when you say "if you need anything" or "call whenever you need." Please stay true to your word. That pisses me off so much.

Stick true to your word. You never know when you will be needing it.

Because when that time comes and someone else goes through a hard time. I will come and be there for them as much as they were for me.

Call it karma. Call it whatever.

My life just sucks right now.

Anything others can do to make it less suck would be nice.

Gypsy

I officially hate nighttime now.
It has to be the worst time for someone that has lost someone... especially their signifcant other...who they slept with almost every single night.
for 5 and a half years.
In fact, John and I slept in the same bed months before we "officially" dated. It was nothing romantic or anything. It was just company. It was a person to talk to at night. I was lucky John was a guy who would talk back to me in bed. I know there are a lot of guys who get in bed and then just fall right to sleep. Us women. Well, we have things to discuss. Am I the only one that thinks so?

But for the past 3 weeks I haven't slept with John. And I haven't slept alone. At first it was easy. Everyone planned their nighs to be with me. I had my sisters and sister-in-law there for the first week or so to be with me. They would rub my back, hold my hand, etc. and keep me company. Then, people eventually had to get home. Karen had to go be a mom to her 3 daughters and a wife to my brother. Raheann had to tend to her husband and loving dog, Buddy. Kristi had to fly back to Vegas and take care of my 3 year old niece, Makenzi. I am lucky that although my family departed to their various regions of the United States... I still have lots of friends close by. I have invaded the beds of many... Courtney, Erica, Lindsay, Megan, Evan, Annie, etc. etc. And I can't thank these girls enough. And their boyfriends and husbands.

There was a night where I had noone lined up and noone could take me in. I was in a panic. I sat downstairs with Jim and Sarah and texted everyone I know but I couldn't get a hold of anyone... and everyone has their lives apparently.
Sarah insisted I just stay downstairs and watch the TV until I fall asleep. So, Sarah and Jim went upstairs to bed and I sat there in front of the TV. Wide eyed. Resistant on taking a vallium.
Then... 15 minutes later I hear the all too familiar heavy footsteps upstairs of Jim Seay. He told me to go up and sleep with Sarah and he would take the downstairs room. So, I did. Her snoring didn't bother me one bit. Jim mentioned it was comforting. And I agree.

I have an extreme feeling of guilt about the fact that I can't sleep alone. I feel like I am intruding in everyone's lives.... I call myself the "gypsy." I have a bag... I keep it filled with shoes and clothes and everything I need and I go from one place to the next. I feel pressured into trying to sleep by myself. But. I am terrified.
I also find it extremely unfair (as you will soon find out I think lots of things are now).... that everyone got to go back to their normal lives and go to bed that night hugging tight to their significant other and being so thankful to have them... and I don't. And that is why when the sun sets... my spirits lower. It's this impending doom. It's the pressure of 'well, who's house will I invade today?' 'which one of my girlfriends is kicking their husband out of the bed tonight?'
I hate being that girl.
The sad girl.

When people say they will help with anything I need... do they mean it? Will you answer your phone at 3am when I am crying and need someone to just listen to me cry? Will you come over and sleep with me and keep me company just because the thought of sleeping alone scares the living shit out of me now?
I have a friend. She lost her husband 4 weeks before I lost John. She has been sleeping with her mom every night now for almost 2 months. I have another friend. She lost her husband and had a rotation of friends that stayed with her for over 3 months. So, why is it after 3 weeks I feel like I sometimes have no one to turn to??

I know I have a great support system. Everyone has been so kind. No, you don't know what to say. That's ok. You don't have to say anything. I don't mind the silence. Sometimes thats better. It keeps you from saying something stupid.
And if you want to talk about John I am ok with that. I rather that than you completely ignorning the subject and acting as if he never existed. Because he did. He was my life. He was my future.

Try and imagine this. Imagine your whole future laid out before you. And that future is this handsome, adoring, sensitive, amazing man. Imagine you come home and you find him lifeless and gone. Imagine half of you left with him.
Now, you sleep alone.

Not too easy is it?


For now I NEED people. Please don't ignore me and be scared. I need my friends. Being a loner is NOT the way I grieve.
And for now. I won't be sleeping alone.
And that's another way I will grieve. And it will take time. And I am NOT crazy. This is just what I need to do to make it through this.