Sigh of Relief

I made it.

The year of firsts is finally over, and I got through it. The night of the 12th was the hardest, although yesterday was rough too. I cried a lot, lit a candle, and wished all the voice mails I’d saved hadn’t been lost when I got a new phone last weekend. I heard from all of the kids except my oldest son, who hasn’t adjusted well to the loss of his father and is doubtless deep in his own funk. Neither did I hear from my sister. But otherwise, I feel very much loved, and my mood has remained steady throughout…thank God for good drugs.

What a relief it is to be done with this year. It doesn’t mean that future anniversaries won’t be difficult—I’ve got our wedding anniversary coming up and I know it will be a difficult day—but maybe it’ll be just a little less difficult than the first one was. Or not. The key is, I’ve proven to myself that I can make it through these tough times and come out stronger. It’s what Will would have wanted, and I comfort myself with the idea that he’s watching over me and is proud of me.

I miss him so much. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I half-expect him to come in with a nice strong cup of coffee and a loving smile. He was an early-morning person and was always cheerful because he’d been up for hours; this caused some friction in the early days of our marriage because I am definitely NOT a morning person. But over the years I came to appreciate his sunny outlook and tried to emulate it (with very little success, I might add). This was only one of the countless ways he loved me, and he made me a better person. I will always be grateful to him for that.

 

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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