My Vegas Debut

I had a dream I was the main role in a play in Vegas.

I was Rapunzel.

I flew to Vegas, and went straight to my makeup artist.

I knew my costume was a white, fishnet body stocking, with a black thong.

The makeup artists job was to cover my nipples with fresh flowers.

He started with teeny, tiny, purple flowers. Each flower was so tiny, that he had to use tweezers to handle them.

He finally got the teeny, tiny, purple flowers glued to my nipples.

Days after this dream, G. sent me flowers that had the same
purple flowers in it that was in my dream

They looked great!

Then it was time to put on my body stocking.

As I pulled up my body stocking, all of the flowers fell off.

I stripped my stocking off, and he started glueing them all back on.

Once the flowers were on (again) I pulled up my body stocking.

Once again, the flowers fell off.

We decided to go with daisies.

We decided on white and yellow daisies.

He glue them on, and they looked FAB!

I pulled on my body stocking, only to have the flowers fall off again.

At this point I can hear them starting the play.

The said my name, stated I would be Rapunzel.

Everyone was applauding and cheering.

I was freaking out.

I was seconds away from needing to be on stage, yet my nipples wouldn't stay covered.

I finally told my makeup artist, fuck this!

I don't care if my nipples show!

I then realized my nipples were covered in glue.

I couldn't go on stage with my nipples covered in glue!!

I was frantically trying to rub the glue off.

Then they called my name.
It was my time.

I realized nipples covered in glue wasn't the worst thing that ever happened.
Hell, my husband committed suicide.

I pulled up my body stalking.
And started walking out on stage,  looking sexy as shit..

Then I woke up.

After much research on google of nipple dreams, I realized
To dream of breasts means nourishment and your need to be nursed and cared for. To dream that you are topless and show off your breasts means you feel anxious and out of control about something. 

Out of control? 
Please.

Anonymous Post - She changed

One of the things I've struggled with is having a hard time with reconciling who my wife was at first. She was the one who I fell in love with and wanted to spend my life with. She made me laugh. She appreciated what I did. She didn't play silly games to see if I'd prove how much I really cared. She didn't expect me to spend a lot of money on her or do lots of flashy stuff. She was smart, liked to read, and even better liked to think. She wasn't very outgoing, but she had a wicked sense of humor. She also liked it that I liked to make her laugh. She knew how badly it sucked to be cheated on, and as a result appreciated loyalty and wasn't going to cheat on me.

In the end, she was someone else. She was angry and withdrawn. More and more often, when I'd see her at the end of the day, she would talk for just a minute or two before saying that she was in too crappy of a mood at the time. Maybe we'd get to spend time together....later. She would sometimes start screaming and yelling and pounding on things when she'd get upset. Over time, it took less and less to get her upset enough to flip out like that. She'd say that she appreciated me doing so much to help out and take care of the house and all, but it seemed less and less that she wanted to actually be around me. Before she killed herself, she told me she was going to take off for a couple of days to work some things out. Little did I know she was leaving to kill herself. After all, she'd taken off once before and, when she came back, told me it'd been to work some things out.

Sometimes it's hard to put those together into a sense of one person. Abstractly, I intellectually know that both were true, and they were things about and done by her. The feel of it, though, is hard to put together. I don't know how to get those to come together so it's just one person I'm thinking of or recalling. I don't know how long it's going to take before that's going to happen. I don't know what it'll take to make it happen. I just hope that the time comes that it feels like it's just all been about one person.

Anonymous Blog - Sleeping Pills

Sleeping pills have always scared me. My family has a history of addiction and of using sleeping pills. So needless to say I was concerned when I started having some insomnia and my Dr gave me some sleeping pills. Well I knew the insomnia was causing a number of other problems in my life so I just sucked up my fear and took the pills for a few days. Well BINGO! they worked. I slept through the night, felt rested in the morning, my anxiety slowly went away and I started sleeping normally again. So I didn't take the pills. I have taken them from time to time when I have needed to insure that I got a good nights sleep but never more than a day or two a week as I did not want to become dependent on them. 

Well here is my problem, I have some really high stress things going on work wise in my life and they are beginning to cause me to loose sleep again. I don't have trouble falling asleep but I have a real hard staying asleep. This is starting to let my anxiety slowly to begin creeping up which also does not make me happy. So it has been advised to me that while this high stress situation continues, which will be for about 4 to 5 weeks, I should just take a pill every night before bed to ensure a good night sleep. Being groggy, sleep deprived and anxious really just makes things worse, so I understand the logic behind taking a pill every night to ensure that doesn't happen. I still have that same old fear of addiction or dependence though so not entirely sure what to do. Everything I have read for the most part indicates the pills I have are not addicting but then some do report withdrawl symptoms. SO I just don't know. I do know one thing though for SURE. I am taking one tonight. I guess we will see what tomorrow brings tomorrow.

Anonymous Post - Sex after the death of my spouse

One of the things I've struggled with since my spouse died is sex. On the one hand, I've really missed the sense of contact and connection, the closeness, and the purely physical enjoyment.  Heck, I also miss the idea of making someone else feel good, knowing I'm still at least capable of that, and having someone else care enough to return the favor.  I'm not the one who died, and part of being alive is still noticing the opposite sex, still wanting that.

At the same time, part of me still feels more than a little uncomfortable about the idea of being in bed with someone else.  I know part of it comes from having been married as long as I was.  I was never unfailthful during that time.  Sure, I noticed other people who were attractive, but anything beyond that would pretty quickly make me more than a little uncomfortable.  It got pretty well ingrained in me that being married meant that sex was something between me and my spouse...and not anyone else.  Now I'm finding that knowing that I'm essentially single again (at least as far as that goes) hasn't gotten through to that part of my brain that says that everyone else is off-limits.

So now I get to deal with being torn between wanting and sometimes hungering for someone else to be in bed with and a powerful aversion to that idea.  I know that there's no right answer, that this is one of those things we each get to figure out and deal with for ourselves.  No-one can give "The Right Answer" for it.  And it doesn't help that in the last few years my spouse was alive our sex life was getting increasingly strained and increasingly infrequent. Thinking back on the good times we'd spent with each other in that way is very difficult, too, as the reminder of what used to be and now is gone hurts, too.  Then again, so does remembering the times where things didn't work so well.

Since my spouse died, I have had sex with someone else.  Physically, it still feels good.  I'm glad to know I can still enjoy touching and being touched.  It is reassuring that it seems like those times have been mutually enjoyable, that that part of me isn't irrevocably broken.  At the same time, it feels bizarre when the old habits of what my spouse liked don't match up with who else I've been with. I've also found that I've kept part of myself shut off from them. I'm not ready to open up that much to anyone else right now.  It frankly has me worried, at least at times, about whether I'll ever be able to be that open with someone again, that it'll become making love once more and not just having sex.

And it sometimes makes me wonder if it's worth it to bother at all anymore.  I generally know the answer to that, especially for the long-term, but that doesn't change those times when I get tired of feeling confused and hurt and scared and angry.  I hate having those kinds of feelings associated with something that can be so wonderful and beautiful.  I guess that's just going to be part of working through that aspect of living longer than a spouse and having to figure out how do more than just survive.

Survivors of suicide round table

I was asked to go Camp Widow East 2012 to lead the suicide survivor round table.

I jumped at the chance.
I didn't have to think twice about it.

Sure I was scared.
Thought "What if I cry??".
"What if I suck and I am no help to these survivors?"
I was pretty much terrified.

There was 11 of us. All different kinds of ages and suicides.
Some stories were similar.
Yet too complicated to compare to another.

I was taught so much from this group of woman.
I went into the round table thinking I could help them, if even in a tiny way.

Little did I know what I would learn from them.

I was reminded above a previous realization I had.
That was that S.'s suicide could have been worse.
Some of the things these woman experienced, should never have been brought into their life.
No one should have to experience these things.

Some of the suicides were a complete shock.
Some had a long battle with mental illness.
Some chose not to share their story.
Some have not told people their husband died from suicide.

Some are further out from the death date then me. And seeing how much pain they are still in, shattered my hope.
I keep thinking, eh, next year, I will be over this, and life will be beautiful.
Seeing these woman still suffering, was a shock.
It was a reality check.

I also knew suicide widows were in a different "class" then "other" widows.

But, I realized how different we actually are.
There is a betrayal that comes with suicide.
There is a sense of being abandoned.
There isn't a lot of people that "get it".
Even other widows don't get it.

Talking to these woman was hard.
Making them feel safe was hard.
I didn't think I could get them to feel safe.
I didn't think I could help them feel heard.
I think suicide widows are silenced.
Because no one wants to hear the awful reality of what suicide causes.

I learned that a lot of suicide widows suffer in silence.
They have no safe place to spill their anger, pain, embarrassment.

I was also struck by the fact that I am still ashamed my husband killed himself.
Ashamed that I wasn't a good enough wife or friend to keep him alive.
I know deep down in my heart, I did everything I could have to save S.
But I still feel like a failure.

I failed at the one thing that mattered most to me in this life.

Most of all, I learned I want to protect these woman.
I want to hug them every morning
And tell them it's going to be ok.

I don't ever want a widow to suffer in silence.

This is why I created the Anonymous blog
I want everyone to have a safe place to say whatever it is they need to say.
Without having to worry about being judge.
I want everyone to have a safe place to say anything - widowed or not.

"Secrets keep us sick. They keep us in shame and 
uncertainty."

Anonymous blog - I'm afraid

I realized something today. I am scared to death of losing my job. I have never been scared of that before because I have always felt that I am a great employee. I work hard, I do what I am told, make money for my company and really don't complain much. All and all I feel like I have always been a great asset to any company. I have also always been recruited by competitors but have remained loyal to my employer. All of those things have raised my self esteem, made me feel like I was a good man, that I was worth something. I know what you are saying, a job  is what we do, not who we are. I know that, I have always been the first one to say that to others but now I am a truly scared of losing my job, I realized that deep down I am feeling my self worth being very tied to the job I do. I feel like if I lose my job or take a cut in pay that I am not worth as much as a man.  So the problem with this is that I am now in a relationship and this deep seated fear is causing problems. First off I am starting to think about a real future with this lady. That we may build a life together. So my fear of losing my job, my fear of losing my worth as a man, is starting to manifest itself in my fear of losing my girlfriend. Cause ya know if I cannot be a good provider than she will leave me. I know that is not true. I know that I am worth more than what I do. I know that I am a good boyfriend and who knows I might just make a good husband too one day.  HOWEVER I am allowing these fears and insecurities to cause problems in my relations that are real. I am taking out my stress on my Girlfriend and she has no real idea why. I am snapping at little insignificant things which is totally unfair to her. She doesn't deserve to have me take my stress out on her. See I am really bad at telling people what I am afraid of, or what I am really stressed out about. So I keep shit like that all bottled up and then it comes bursting out at the dumbest shit and gets directed at the person I love the most. So while I know she will not leave me if I were to lose my job, I am certain, that unless I can learn to communicate better, tell her how I am feeling, become truly vulnerable with her and stop keeping all my fears and insecurities bottled up, she will leave me.  It wasn't until today did I realize all of this. I don't know why I am telling you, a complete bunch of strangers, all of this. I guess it was that I realize that in this current economic climate, how so many people can lose hope in themselves because so many of us truly feel our self worth is linked to our economic prosperity. That we are what we do. That we allow ourselves to be defined by our jobs. I know that just the fear of losing my job is playing havoc with my self esteem I can only imagine how I would be feeling if I actually lost my job. The good thing is that I realize this now. I can work on not allowing myself to be defined by what i do. That my self esteem should not and will not be tied to my job situation. I am more than that and better than that.  So if I lose my job it will suck but most importantly I have people that love me and I will find something else to do to earn a living. See I am a good employee and I guess what? I was looking for a job when I found this one and I will just find another one. Someone reminded me that "the best things in life are not things".

Antidepressants

Around the 8 month mark of S.'s death, I fell into a very scary depression.
I have never experienced depression like that.
I didn't care if I lived or died.
I didn't care to eat or get out of the house.
I just slept.
And cried.
A lot.

I was put on lamictal before S. died. I have been on that for probably 4 years.

I was then put on zoloft + lamictal.

About 6 months ago I couldn't stand how tired I was.
My doctor took me off zoloft and put me on celexa.

I cut down (slowly) off lamictal, and have been off it since June-ish.
Coming off lamictal was pretty easy.

My energy level is better, but I am still so fucking tired!

I have put a ton of thought into my medication.
I have wondered if it shields me from my grief.
If it's just a band-aid that covers up my grief.

I don't think I have depression anymore.
I do care if I live or die now.

But who knows if that's the medication or the amount of time it's been since S. died that has made me care about myself again.

I have decided to take the final leap, and come off celexa.

BUT....
I am scared shitless.
If I end up in the depression I was in again, I will probably have to be hospitalized.

I don't think I was suicidal, but my doctor says I was.

Apparently not giving a shit if you get hit by a train is suicidal.

I don't know if I can fight through that again without being hospitalized.
I don't know if I have the strength left.

In the last 9 months, I have quit drinking every day
I have bought and moved to a new home.
Enjoyed Christmas with my family, without much grief or missing S.
I have successfully come off lamictal.
I lived through the 2 year mark of S.'s death (And actually enjoyed my day with friends and family).
I lived through our 7 year wedding anniversary.

Now I am just done.
I am sober, and I want to be completely sober.

So celexa, starting tonight, we will slowly separate ourselves from each other.

Just like my dear friend alcohol, we can not be friends anymore.

So celexa, please enjoy yourself over the next 3 to 5 weeks.
After that, pack your shit.
Your out.

And friends, you have been warned!
If I suddenly lose my shit, and eat your face off.
I'm sorry.

Lenny at Camp Widow 2012

After weeks of bitching, I finally agreed to let Lenny join me in San Diego for Camp Widow.

Lenny spent most of the weekend sleeping.

But he joined us one night for drinks.

We went to dinner at Busters Beach House. Amazing food.

As Lenny is slurping down his margarita, I realized he was about to drink a heart.

Lenny, please don't drink the heart.

I have a secret

I have a secret.

I met someone. His name is Lenny.

Lenny came into my life on December 25th, 2011.

I asked my mom Santa for Lenny.

Santa brought me Lenny. I had no idea how helpful Lenny would be in my life.

He sleeps with me every night.

His soft fur is great for wiping away tears.

The best part of it all, he doesn't talk.
Ever.

Lately Lenny has been bugging me.

He wants a spot in my blog.

"Your blog is depressing, angry, cold, dark and scary. My life is Coo, and full of happy, fun filled adventures. You could blog my adventures. Make your blog happy and smell fab".

Lenny says.

With much battles, I have decided to shut Lenny up give Lenny his very own spot in my blog.

So here we go.

Meet Lenny!

I came home and found Lenny like this in my bed.

I don't ask questions about his sex life.

He doesn't ask questions about mine.

Good Vs. Great

While at Camp Widow West Coast 2012 I listened to a speech Michele Hernandez did about her life.

What I got from the speech was Good vs Great.

Let me back track a lil.

I have been dating a great guy for a couple of months.

He is amazing.

He has given me the sense of safety and security my life has been missing.
It's been missing for 5 years now.

He loves me.
He misses me.
He is my sideline cheerleader.
He is my best friend.

And I secretly need that.

We will call him G.

Fast forward to today.

While listening to Michele talk, she was talking about choosing good vs great.

I realized I live my life in the good.
I choose not to live in the great.

Why?

Well I had great.
And it died.
I never want to go through that again.

G. is older then me.
The widow inside me screams "He could DIE".

He could suddenly decide to break up with me.

He could shatter my heart.
The heart I am still glueing back together.
Piece by piece.
Day by day.

Second by second.

So I have chosen to live in the good.
Not the great.

Because if G. dies, and I am only living in the good..
I don't lose the great.
All over again.

And of course, because I'm not losing the great, his death (or our break up) would be so much easier.

I have unknownly held my life back.

To live in the good.

It's better to be good.
Rather then great.

Because with great comes great pain and sorrow.

Today I cried because I realized I deserve great.
And I am stopping great from being in my life.

Today I choose to live great.
And I'm going to have to learn to be good at living great.