One Week

One week ago, I held my husband's lifeless body in my arms. He had passed in the middle of the night, and I didn't know what to do beyond go be there and hold him.

I honestly am not sure what to think or to process beyond that at this point.

I don't know how I'm feeling, beyond maybe a little scared. A little unsure. I feel like my little world was all I could focus on for such a long, long time, that the world seems scary now: It's too big. But now, I'm no longer an FTD spouse: I'm an FTD widow. And a single Mom. A widowed single Mom. And while being a single Mom to 4 kids is probably more than enough to process and handle, somehow, I feel like dropping the part where my husband is also slowly dying from FTD makes me too...available; too free. I have more space in my mind than I know what to do with, and it feels scary.

I mean, let's face it: I still don't have that much time on my hands: I'm busy every night this week with kids or church stuff except Friday. With Mark living so far from us for so long, our lives really haven't changed tremendously in the here and now. It's just that it FEELS like it has. And I'm feeling very timid: Almost as though I've been released from prison but am too scared to leave. Like the Israelites, right? Leaving captivity in Egypt. As if I'm just wondering what fresh hell awaits me if I take that first step. Waiting for the semi to come out of nowhere and take me out if I even as much as peek my head out and see what's going on.

It's a weird feeling, going from being this prisoner in a life consumed with FTD to being free from that burden, and yet realizing the finality of what that means.  All the things I have been waiting for all this time are suddenly hitting me at once and it's far beyond overwhelming. Recogizing my freedom from weekly trips to Mankato makes me suddenly want to take a trip to...Mankato. Not having to wear a face shield when visiting my husband makes me want to keep those face shields in the back of my car...just in case, ya know? In case I wake up and it was just a dream.

I had the opportunity to see all 5 of my siblings this past weekend, for the first time in well over a year, which was healing for me.  Just the realization that I get to choose if we want to take a road trip to visit them without feeling guilty that we're leaving Mark without visitors for the weekend seems surreal.  I know I'll embrace this freedom as time goes on, but I'm still pretty skeptical.

My therapist and I met last Thursday morning, and we both feel like I'm good. I'm in a solid place, and we're moving to as needed appointments at this point. It has been FOUR YEARS of weekly appointments (or close to it), and that also feels unnatural. I agree that it's time, but it, once again, feels a bit like when they sent me home with a newborn at 3 days old and just assumed I knew what the hell I was doing. (Newsflash - I was TERRIFIED to take him home. I had no idea what the hell I was doing).

I'm sure there's some sort of guide to waking up from a nightmare like we've been living the past half a decade, but I'm not ready to read it yet.

 
I still feel a great desire for solace right now.

 Part of the past six months of my life has been focusing on learning to actually really, truly love myself, and I'll admit that it is probably the best thing I could have done. I've learned in that amount of time that the person I most want to seek out in these scary, weary times is...me. I want to be with myself, by myself. It's not depression, it's more or less just...self-love. And I enjoy being alone at this point, which feels a little absurd, if I'm being honest. I feel safe with myself.  But I feel...watched...when I'm "in the wild".  I don't like being watched.

This unsettled feeling bubbles up frequently, and I'm not entirely sure how to handle it.

Progress, however, as far as self-care and therapy are concerned, is realizing that although the world feels too big and overwhelming at this point, I don't have to take that first step yet:  I can pause and stay here in this place of settledness a while longer, and that's okay.

A dear FTD spouse friend of mine sent me a meme earlier today that really resonated with me:

I kinda like it.  But I'm having to learn to actually do... nothing.  And if you haven't met me, you wouldn't know that this will be a BIG lesson.