Paralysis by analysis and the “comfort” of our little bubbles.

its been a while(In less than 2 weeks from now, she would have turned 40.  Fuck.)

So it’s been probably ~3 months since I have last written a post on this blog.  Felecci’s 40th birthday is almost at hand and I am in the mood to reflect on my journey now that I am just over 6 months removed from losing the woman I love.  This mood is in no small part due to my recent trip to Camp Widow and meeting many of the community members I have interacted with since this stage of my life began.  They warned of a “crash” when you get back and I have felt it.

Quick shoutout to Soaring Spirits for hosting a bunch of crazy ass widow/ers this past week in Tampa.

In the 3 months or so since I last wrote I have been in a committed relationship with a fellow widow and have spent much of my off time just enjoying her company.  But what keeps me from posting is not my lack of free time, but rather the fact that I have been struggling with answers these past few months about internal demons bothering me.   To this point, I am still no closer to solving them.  Since I didn’t find any easy answers @ Camp Widow it is time to give my demons voice.

For all my belief that I am tough enough to handle being a widower better than most people; I am having doubts.  The suppression of my emotion over this ~9 year period may have caused deeper issues that I am only now starting to understand.

Since I have started dating I am having recurring dreams in various forms where I am losing Felecci in new and heartbreaking ways.  Sleep for more than 2-3 hours at a time is very hard to come by.  It is like I lose her again 3-5 times a week.  I don’t think it is strictly related to dating though.  I think it is fear of what comes next.

A large part of me feels empty like I am experiencing my own life as a spectator.  I go out and I have fun and for a while, I can even forget about all of the bad memories and focus on the moment.  But this often is fleeting.  I will go home and go back into my normal rut even if I had a good time.

I don’t feel invested in my own life.  I am watching a movie I have grown tired of and am waiting for it to be over.  I think I have lost my purpose in life.  Rather, I am a person who is just surviving, not looking forward to anything.  I am going through the motions until it is my time to die.

I don’t really feel like I have the energy to find purpose.  I continue to do what I did before Felecci died because it is familiar.  But I don’t enjoy it the same way.  I don’t have her to come home to anymore.  She doesn’t need me anymore.

I don’t want the possible futures 2018 is offering me.  I want to go back to 2009 when Felecci first started showing symptoms and rewrite history.  Instead of worrying about Cancer I want her to decide what she wants to do with her career.  I want to buy a house, have Irish-Filipino kids and grow old with her.  I don’t know if it would have been smooth sailing, but damn it she would still be here and we would have the family that was taken from us the day she was diagnosed.

But I can’t go back in time, I am stuck with 2018.  So what about changes?  Frankly, I don’t know what I would want to change right now.  I am sort of lost.

  • Do I want to move?
  • Do I want to make a career change?
  • Do I want kids?
  • Do I ever want to get married again?

I can’t honestly answer these questions – not even a little – seriously, how fucking sad is that?  I haven’t been able to for months.  This worries the shit out of me.  I am pretty sure this is depression just sucking me down.  But honestly, I feel like I lack the courage to make any life-altering decisions.  I feel like a failure.

Move?  To where?  Brooklyn is god awful expensive.  Moving deeper into Jersey means a longer commute.   Moving to a new state means a full life reset.  None of those options are appealing right now.

Career?  I have a good job now, though the work doesn’t excite me anymore.  My job has gotten easy, but it is hard to walk away from familiar surroundings.  Starting over would mean taking on risk.

Kids?  I’m 37 now, not 28.  There is a higher risk of all sorts of shit having them at this age.  If I had kids today I’d be almost 60 when they left the house.  Would I be able to learn to love someone else’s kids, or be content if I never had them?

Marriage?  I fell in love and gave so much of the best years of my life up to care for my wife.  The thought of making myself vulnerable to that again is terrifying.  For the first time in my adult life, I am only responsible for myself.  Well actually that is a lie, I still have parents dragging me into shit.  But I am not a primary caretaker anymore and I am not sure I have the strength to do it again.  I know I don’t want someone to have to do that for me.

For me, I know the next step is to overcome this feeling of being stuck.  I have to start giving a shit about something and stop being a coward.  Make some fucking decisions.  I’ve never had to turn my motivation on before though.  In the past, it has always been there to provide direction.  I don’t know how to get out of this rut.

I am afraid I won’t get out of it.  I am afraid it will hurt others that I care about.  I am afraid I will make the wrong decision and regret it.  I guess my problem is that I am afraid of living.  And I am so tired of being hurt, a large part of me wants to stay in my bubble.

 

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