Wishing I Was Better Than I Really Am

Another day, another milestone.

Today marks twelve weeks since Kellie died. Three months. That’s 84 days, for anyone who’s counting.

Isn’t it interesting that we measure the age of babies in weeks, and now here I am doing the same thing about the end of someone’s life? I’m sure a time will come when I just count in months, and then in years, the same as with a kid.

The way we measure time has always been fascinating to me, especially since it’s such a subjective thing for all of us. I’m willing to guarantee that these past three months have taken me longer to live through than most of you. But when I was in middle and even high school, summer felt like it was over in an instant.

I was in a meeting with someone yesterday who asked how things are going for me—when I answered her, she full-on started weeping. I had to apologize to her for messing up her makeup.

My crowning achievement today (after three months, mind you) was to pay the gas, water, and electric bills. The electric bill, in particular, was a concern (because they were about to shut it off). Multi-factor authentication is a real challenge when they want to call your phone (and the phone in question is your dead spouse’s). Every time I’ve tried in the past three months, I got to the step of trying to log in, got frustrated at not being able to do it, and then gave up. Today I cut out the middleman and called the company to explain the situation. The customer service representative was curious and talkative and asked about how old Kellie was, how and why she died, and eventually got a great deal of the story from me. I think she was crying by the end as well.

So I’ve (unintentionally) made two people cry in the past two days—I hope you haven’t. It’s pretty uncomfortable to be put in a situation where you either need to lie (to protect someone else) or disclose what you’re going through (and then feel like you have to take care of their feelings anyway). I’ve been pretty transparent about my intention to be honest, even if it upsets people. I’ve got enough going on without trying to put on a mask too.

A friend reached out this morning and asked whether I could meet up for coffee, and I really enjoyed getting to spend that time. I pretty much accept most invites I get these days, though it’s hard sometimes to make decisions about what I want to do or where I want to meet up. There’s some fear there for me that if I turn folks down I’m not going to get another invite from them, and that my supports will dry up over time one by one. I know I’ve mentioned this worry before. I don’t actually think that’s a likely outcome, but since when do we just fear things that are likely to occur?

Today was relatively busy, but tomorrow is VERY busy. I’ve got six hours’ worth of appointments across six and a half hours of my day, so breathing and refilling my water and eating something will be a challenge (not to mention caring for the dogs), but some days end up that way. Not too many, which is the way I prefer it.

My parents will arrive back in town tomorrow at some point, and I’m looking forward to that. They’re coming to watch the pups while I’m away for my writing retreat all weekend. So if you’re planning to stop by my house over the next few days, feel free (but you’ll be hanging out with them instead of me). They’re pretty cool, so you’d have a good time.

I’m hanging some art on the walls this evening that has been sitting in my office for the past eight years, since we moved into our home. I think it’s time for me to put this stuff up where folks can see it, since it’s all pieces that Kellie and I both love and chose together (or that she bought for me, which is also special).

I had a great therapy session today, and am once again reflecting upon how fortunate I am to have found her. I suspect that things would have been significantly tougher for me across these past seven or eight years without her support, and I’m grateful to have her in my life. Lots of therapists struggle to find someone that they click well with—I think it’s a challenge for them to stop trying to judge what they would do or say themselves in every new interaction with a provider. Luckily (?) for me, I regularly feel like many clinicians are better than me at what I do, so I don’t have that problem.

I continue to marvel at the fact that I continue to survive, day after day, without Kellie here. I wouldn’t say I’m thriving, though I regularly get to experience joy, peace, and hope. Love, even—there’s so much love in my life.

Off to occupy myself with a meaningless task until I get sleepy enough to head to bed!

Hugs,

Matt