The isolation of "widowhood" (there is that word I hate again) is extreme. Even in the most crowded place, I feel like I am enclosed in a bell jar, yet all I want sometimes is to be surrounded by people, because being alone is almost too much to handle. Even though almost everybody suggested early on that I get involved with counseling or into a group of other's who had lost loved ones, I am not the kind of person who would benefit from a support group. Been there, done it, hated it, not going there ever again. So, I thought that one of the online grief support groups would be a good alternative for me. I could participate at my convenience, which sometimes is very late at night or very early in the morning and so that seemed to suit my needs.
I also thought that if one group was good, two would be better and then somehow, I ended up registered with four or five (could have been more than that. That first month or so is still a little fuzzy around the edges). My heart was so wounded that I was desperate to find other people who were experiencing grief on the level that I was, so that I could make some sense of these feelings, to find some solace with strangers, because I was unable to truly show those who loved me the depth of my grief. (That is still hard for me.) I would have many different perspectives, from many different sources to draw from, it could only be good, right? Wrong.
The main thing I wanted was for somebody to explain to me why my husband had to die and leave me so alone. I wanted to hear from people who had made sense of it all and who could provide me with the explanations and information that I needed so very badly. I wanted the world to know about the incredible life I had had and to share things about my husband with anyone and everyone who would listen. And I thought that if anyone would listen, it would be someone who had felt that same stab in the heart that I was feeling. I was wrong about that, too.
The people I met on most of these group sites were in way more trouble that me. In that foggy place I was living, I didn't remember that people don't just lose spouses, they lose parents, siblings, children. And they don't always lose them to disease and they don't always have time to say good-bye the way that Dave and I had been able to do. I met people online who had lost loved ones to suicide, to drunk drivers, to drug addiction and a couple who lost a family member to a murderer, who turned out to be a someone they knew well and trusted. There was even one young woman who had lost her precious toddler to an abusive boyfriend who took her child from her in revenge for her breaking up with him.
There was story after story filled with anguish, anger, thoughts of suicide, questioning God as the why these things had been allowed to happen. And then, there were The Pictures. Pictures that had been posted for the same reason that I wanted people to know my story...to keep the memory of that person alive somewhere, to acknowledge that they had lived, to show that they had once been in this world. Looking at the faces of those lost loved ones was like looking into the very core of each person who had reached out to others for comfort and understanding. Those people were searching in the same way that I was searching. Their sorrow and desperation threatened to break the part of my heart that wasn't already broken. It made me much too aware of how fragile we all are, living this human existence. Anyone's life can change in the blink of an eye, yet all too many people fail to realize that until it is too late. I had to turn away from these places and I retreated back into myself, to be alone.
Eventually, I did find a group of people who had lost spouses that were pretty grounded and seemed to be moving on toward better places in their lives. While many of them still had plenty of pain of their own, they were also able to reach out with a supportive hand or a ((((hug)))) for the rest of us, without the platitudes and banality I found on those other sites. Turns out that is just what I needed. Getting an unveiled glimpse into their feelings and emotions, to see how they were handling things and to see how they were coping was very helpful for me. These women, and a few men, handle their grief with grace, humor and strength, and are not afraid to reach out to a stranger to offer comfort or to receive comfort themselves. Their compassion and comradre are some of the tools I need to fix myself, although I think the repairs are going to take longer than I expected.
Eventually, I did find a group of people who had lost spouses that were pretty grounded and seemed to be moving on toward better places in their lives. While many of them still had plenty of pain of their own, they were also able to reach out with a supportive hand or a ((((hug)))) for the rest of us, without the platitudes and banality I found on those other sites. Turns out that is just what I needed. Getting an unveiled glimpse into their feelings and emotions, to see how they were handling things and to see how they were coping was very helpful for me. These women, and a few men, handle their grief with grace, humor and strength, and are not afraid to reach out to a stranger to offer comfort or to receive comfort themselves. Their compassion and comradre are some of the tools I need to fix myself, although I think the repairs are going to take longer than I expected.
