Awkward

So I have noticed some things about trying to date or even making new friends- some people can handle me being a widow and some just can’t. They make it even more awkward and either feel the need to bring him up constantly or completely avoid the five years I was with him, like he never exsisted.

With old acquaintances or new friends- if they facebook friend me, it says widow. That was by my choice that I put that status. I could have put nothing- but it wasn’t nothing and I am a widow. So deal. They never say anything, or they skimp around the questions of – what did you do those five years. Oh, I was a hermit. Lived with hobbits. Etc.
I don’t really blame them either. I mean, I wouldn’t know what to say. I do now of course. But without that happening, I would have never known. And I am an awkward person by nature anyways.

With dating it’s even more weird. Which I have already kind of talked about. Guys either think I’m a player, now freed from the bonds of marriage, or a girl who is looking for someone to marry her ASAP and have three kids. Can’t I just be a normal girl who wants to date a normal guy?
Nope.

My life was pretty interesting before. And it’s pretty interesting now. I think I’ve gone through enough for a lifetime- although I know I’m just at the beginning.
This whole process has really taught me not to judge people right off the bat. Don’t get me wrong- I still judge, it’s a bad character flaw. But now I maybe understand people’s motives a little more. I get why “that person” is “that way”, why they act the way they do. A lot of it is just growing up and starting to understand life.
Life is great. It’s a gift. It also can really suck too. But I’m trying to find beauty in it everyday. It’s hard sometimes. And sometimes it’s so easy to look up and say thank you. Thank you that I’m living.
I mostly understand how people perceive me. It’s a weird thing. To be young and be a widow. I have never known anyone but old, old widows, who had years of memories. I’m trying to be more frank and less awkward. I’m trying to be this open person who’s feelings don’t get hurt so easily when that guy never texts back. Or when that girl cancels her plans with me. After all, I do the same thing. I do the same thing and have no idea what’s really going on in their lives.

I think it’s good to take a step back and observe people. Just observe. Because in those moments when they think no one is watching, those are the moments you can really see what’s going on in their mind. A lot of times when I find myself wanting comfort for being lonely or just plain feeling widowy, someone else is also wanting comfort. I forget that I’m not the only one who carries sorrow.
So to those people who feel weird around me, to the people I make feel weird around me, and to the people who think I’m normal-haha- I’m sorry.
Have patience with me and I will definitely learn to have patience with you.

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A dash of bittersweet

So summer is wedding season. Weddings everywhere. I love weddings. I love what they symbolize. I love watching couples in love. How excited they are to get married. The whole thing. It’s beautiful.

I was having a pretty good day. Lately been a little teary eyed at almost anything. It’s summer and I sometimes feel alone. And I miss him.
My mom recruited me to help her get a bridal shower set up for my sisters good friend. The friend is young and getting married in a couple months.
I didn’t hesitate, I love wedding stuff.
Then it happened. I was fluffing up a sparkly pom pom decoration thing. It all came back.
Our day. My wedding dress. The excitement. The love. I started crying. It reminded me of my wedding day. That stupid sparkly thing just set me off. My mom, very sweetly said I didn’t need to help, I could go take a break. But honestly, it’s good to cry. It’s good to remember and it’s good to keep moving. So I kept helping. That’s the best medicine. Cry. Let it out. And don’t give in to wallowing. Only sometimes.

Every bride deserves her day.

read a great quote-

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Some Humor

I have a couple fears. 1. Roller coasters 2. The dark 3. The dentist.

I know they are trying to help me keep all my teeth, and it’s their job, but I still get a nervous sweat, dilated pupils, and all fainty.
I had to get a minor procedure done. Really not a big deal. I decided on wanted laughing gas and a shot. The laughing gas was to get me a little loopy before they put a shot in my mouth.
I haven’t had laughing gas for quite awhile, and I thought, this will be great. I’ll be totally out of it and then it will be over.
Well I was totally out of it. I was high and nauseous when my mom picked me up. I felt sick like I had been on a merry go round. I got in the car, my mom took one look at me and promptly had me recline the passenger seat in the car. I apparently ( I don’t really remember this at all) started bawling and then laughing and then crying again. When my mom asked me what was wrong, I told her that I apparently blurted out that my husband was dead to the dentist and the assistant. When she told me several hours later, I was a little mortified. They already knew I was a widow, so it was probably no surprise to them. However yelling it at them while high on laughing gas was probably a little odd.
I had to go back in the same day to correct something they did. When the dentist walked in, he started laughing and said, well you certainly look better and definitely off drugs.

Next time no laughing gas for me.

Kind of dating

So
Dating is weird. Hated it before and am not so fond of it now.
There’s a fine line between wanting to be in a relationship because you’re ready to start seeing people and being lonely and wanting to fill a void.

People at the funeral kept telling me – “you are young, don’t worry, you will find someone to marry. ”
Well I’ve never been worried about it. I don’t think there’s a time clock clicking, telling me to hurry up all ready and settle down again.

Truth is- I do feel lonely. It’s been nine months and there are times that I feel so alone. But it’s not everyday, it’s lessened and the busier I am, the less lonely I feel. When I am working, I forget about some of the grief, and start to see my life slowly changing.
For a long time I wanted to skip ahead a bunch of months and be here- in July or August, thinking I would be farther along in my grief journey. Although I am farther along, I’ve found myself again- I still have sad days/nights when I want to wallow in my misery. Or when I am truly sad. Whatever, it happens. My parents have really helped me- for awhile they let me wallow and then they say ok, you good now?
It may sound harsh, but it’s actually what I need. And at the same time, they are there to give me a hug, because they understand. They are also living this with me.

Back to dating-
I have been on a handful of dates. All nice guys, had good intentions until I would tell them I was a widow. Then it got weird. Suddenly they were moving or they too were too heartbroken to go on with another relationship. Interesting.
There are times when I wonder if I will find another person again. It’s easy to say yes. But it might be a no. I might have to learn to be ok with being alone for awhile.
It’s a weird balance. As much as I want someone to go out with, to love, and tell everything- at the same time I’ve grown really used to it just being me. I value my alone time and my space. A lot of people who have never experienced losing a spouse, say that I need to wait a couple years. I always kind of tilt my head to the side and think, how interesting that they can plan my life. I haven’t been able to plan anything. Obviously. And there are other people that say I should go crazy. Be wild, be flirty. (Side note, I was never wild. I don’t even know how to be anyways. )
Really only I can decide. I can decide if dating feels right. It will probably never feel right because I wasn’t supposed to be dating right now in my life. I was supposed to be married.
It’s taken me awhile to realize that I am in charge of me. Why it took this to make me realize that, I’m not sure. But it did. Hey.
On the good days I look at it this way-
I am special. And there will be someone out there who will be ok with the struggles I’ve been through and will still want to date me.
So here’s to that guy. You’re special too.

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Honestly

It’s so hard to be real with yourself sometimes. It just is. You can put on a front that everything is peaches and cream. There’s always a silver lining. But sometimes there’s not. Sometimes the silver lining takes awhile to appear. Or it appears in a form you don’t recognize right away.

I catch myself putting up this wall or maybe better described- persona of an independent bad ass. I often show this side to people who don’t know me. Who aren’t aware that I’m a widow. It’s my way of saying I’ve overcome that dark place and look at me now. Stronger than ever.

I might be stronger. I’m sure I am. But definitely not bad ass. I sometimes cry at anything and everything. I tell people too much about my personal life and I unload on strangers or people I think I can trust. Most of those people have a shocked look on their face. I don’t tell them my story to get sympathy. I tell them my story so they really know me. But can I really define myself as just a widow? Who am I actually…

I’m a girl who loves chinese food, quotes and dreams of travelling. I’m weird because I’m not Indian but I love Indian music even though I have absolutely no idea what they are singing about. I love to read and be alone. I love my family. I tend to be emotional. My hero is Steve Irwin and nothing Jane Austen ever wrote was bad. I have a dog and I talk to him like he can understand English. I love the zoo and ice cream.

Why don’t I tell people those things? Probably because I sometimes forget who I am I guess. I based my life around a person I loved. I devoted my being to him. And now it’s just me. Sometimes it’s weird. And sometimes it’s sad. Most of the time I look at my life as the glass half full.

Honestly I am trying to rediscover myself and what makes me happy. I’m now trying to be real with people. Yes I am a widow. But no you don’t need to know the details to be my friend. Yes I will be honest with you. But you don’t need to know all my moments before and after it happened. Yes most of the time I’m happy. But sometimes I’m angry that he’s gone. Sometimes I’m sad that everything around me reminds me of him. Sometimes I have really bad nights. Sometimes I am lonely. It’s a void nobody can fill. I know people who have lost a spouse, child or parent can relate. It’s hard. Stop trying to please everyone around you and just be real. Be the real you. The messy sloppy you. Because that’s what life is anyways isn’t it? It’s beautiful and ugly. Happy and sad. The people who really want to get to know you and love you will understand. They will have patience. They will wait for you to heal. They will be there to help you. And most of all, they won’t ask you questions you don’t want to answer because they understand you and they care about you.

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Being social and why it’s good.

Ok. So I am a person who tends to put all my faith, love, and effort into one person or thing and concentrate so hard to make that thing happy. It’s what I do. It’s mostly bad I would think. I almost always regret doing it, but it’s how I am wired.

Becoming a widow has taught me alot of things and has given me more weird wisdom than I had before. One thing is for sure- friends are super important. When I was married, I had one best friend, my husband. I put all my effort and love in him. I rested all my faith in him. His moods often dictated my moods and so on. I caused myself alot of stress, trying to make him always happy. It’s hard and trying, to make someone else happy. Especially when they are depressive. But it was my own fault. I could have stopped doing it, but I didn’t. He had some guy friends. I had my mom. But I chose not to have girl friends. I chose to have him.

When he passed away, I was suddenly alone. Yes I had my wonderful family. But I lost that one person who I shared everything with. And it was really difficult. I have never felt so lonely in my entire life. And trust me, I was pretty independent before I was married. But it was a choice I made. After the funeral, I became friends with an old childhood friend. She was awesome because she invited me over all the time to do anything. She helped me back on my feet. We went grocery shopping and watched Sons of Anarchy. I am so thankful I had her during that time. She put a little sunshine back into my life.

I still feel lonely. I could have a hundred people around me and I will feel alone. I’m sure any widow/widower feels this way. It’s an odd feeling. It makes me want to stay home. Feel depressed. But I’ve learned one important thing- surround yourself with people. Eventually they will get to know you and it won’t feel weird. You won’t feel out of place. You will probably eventually feel alone again, but if you keep yourself moving and busy, you will be fine. There will be those nights when you cry and cry and cry. And that’s good. It’s completely healthy. You will learn how much you can take. How much social-ness you can handle. It’s a fine balance. I’ve had to actually put myself out there and meet new people. It gave me hives. But I did it. Now I have more friends than before. It’s nice to have somebody invite you to something. Not because they feel bad, but because they actually enjoy your company and want to see you.

Also, on the same note-

It’s good to discover yourself and who you are. I lost alot of myself, by choice, when I was married. Doing things on my own now, was really weird and sad at first. But now, seven months later, I am almost used to it. There are some days when I complain about being alone. And there are other days when I am slowly starting to enjoy myself and my what I do in my free time. Don’t get me wrong- I would have never chose to have this life over what I had. But this is what it is now, and I’ve come to accept it. Sometimes I don’t want to and I throw in the “poor me, I’m a widow and it sucks” card. It works for about two minutes and I realize that it could always be worse. I’m blessed in the fact that I was married. I’ve learned alot and grown in my faith. I have a great job that I enjoy. I have an awesome family. I have great friends. It’s summer and the sun is out. That’s pretty awesome. At least to me.

So- take a class. Go dancing. Eat at your new favorite restaurant. Find a good book. Be outside. Take a walk. And make friends.

” With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?” -Oscar Wilde.

Mess

20140519-001306-786392.jpgI’m generally a mess. I have always been a sensitive person but geez- after my husband’s death, I’ve become more weepy about anything and everything. At first I couldn’t get through watching five minutes of a romantic movie before I would burst into tears. So instead I would try to watch sci-fi movies. And low and behold, Oblivion is a romantic sci-fi flick. Love the movie, but was bawling at the end. If you have watched it, you know what I mean.

I think sometimes it’s hard for people to understand us. As widows- at least in my case-I tend to take things personally. Like when a newly married woman goes on and on about her honeymoon and wedding. Like she knows I’m a widow. No. I have to remind myself every day to not take things so personally. She doesn’t know and probably, honestly if she did, she wouldn’t have gone on and on about it.

I was out for a good three months. Out as in emotionally checked out. Or really, super checked in.  Three weeks in, I would try and make myself look attractive. For my own well-being.  I have wonderful parents who would take me out and about town. Simple things like grocery shopping were painful. Every food he loved I would tear up at. It sounds ridiculous, but its true.  Every couple that held hands made my stomach hurt. But seeing that the world does indeed still go on, really helped me. Holidays were hard. Unbearable. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and hibernate until there was some sun. I would get so frustrated because I am  a really impatient person. I wanted my life back. I wanted to move on. I wanted to remember. Completely terrified that I would forget him, I would stare at his pictures. Try to remember his voice.

There’s a selfishness that would come over me. I wanted my perfect life back. Which, by the way, was SO far from perfect. (my little grieving brain tried to make it something it never was).  But it was still mine. It was my life.

My mom and dad are quote people. Actually my entire family. We live by quotes. Sounds silly, but it’s true. And the quote above is one that I found on pinterest. I have always been somewhat of a chaotic mess. My car is always a disaster. Except for one week out of the month. Ha. My life is always somewhat dramatic, whether it actually is or I make it that way. I am always slightly running behind. Essentially this quote, I like to pretend, is about me. I love how it makes “mess” sound attractive and romantic. I know this is what he loved about me.

It’s okay not to have everything together and perfect. To be a little crazy and unorganized. Life is messy. It has taken me alot longer to realize this than it probably should. But hey, I’m sure you would agree- the best way to learn and live life is at your own speed. Sometimes it just takes a little longer than we want it to.

Musings of a young widow.