I write because it’s an outlet for me and sometimes it helps to maybe feel like my feelings/struggles are known – maybe so someone can relate and know they aren’t alone. But just like with social media in general, I feel like it can create the false sense of “friends.” Like do people really care what I have to say? Do they just want to see what crazy thing I’ll say next that no one else has the balls to talk about? Well none of this is pretty….
Recently, I have felt entirely helpless, misunderstood, alone, hurt, ostracized, like damaged goods. My feelings are confirmed by the way people treat me, the lack of caring when I feeling like I’m clearly sounding the alarm of “hey I’m not good.” I’ve learned to essentially eat it – everyone has problems, everyone has internal struggles, everyone has their own families to attend to. I’m really sick and tired of hearing “everyone loves you Katie” and then when I’m being super transparent about having a hard time, where the fuck is everybody that “loves” me? The person that loves me unconditionally is 6 feet under. My biggest support, the person who held my arms up when I couldn’t anymore is gone. The weight of our life is on my shoulders now. But guess who can’t go to work today because I cannot get my fuckin shit together? Me.
I’m tired of the stuff people say to make themselves feel better that leave me feeling like shit. “I’m glad you’re still here.” Then don’t reply to my text messages. Some day you will make someone happy when you get yourself right – because I’m too fucked up for anyone to love me I guess huh? My only fault in this life is I love too much and I love too hard. My heart is too big and to be honest, I’m tired of being hurt over and over again. I’m tired of being strong, I’m tired of being asked what Paul would say because guess what…he isn’t here, I thank God he didn’t have to know what it was like to lose me like how I lost him – it’s hell on earth. And if you know Paul like I did, he would be struggling because his heart was big too. I knew one thing for sure in this life, that dude loved me with everything in him. I went from being someone’s everything to nobody’s anything.
I’m constantly in this place where I have 1 foot here on earth but one foot hanging in the balance. I think a lot about who I want to have what when I’m gone, as I’ve had to deal with this since losing my husband. I think about the songs that I want at my funeral. I’m 30 years old thinking about this instead of mindlessly going about life like a lot of others. My life before Paul I was asleep as one widow put it – going through the motions. Now post loss, I’m awake and have a perspective that I embrace most the time but sometimes I’d give anything to have a mundane routine and act like everyone else just coasting through life trying to make it. I keep telling myself that someday this pain will have a purpose, but I have yet to see beyond the pain that I keep enduring as a result of losing the love of my life.
None of this is good today and I’m ok with that. Don’t convince me otherwise. Let me feel how I feel, just like the sermon I heard at church yesterday. This is my grieving process, unique to me. This is what it looks like some days, it’s ugly, it hurts to my core. Don’t reach out because you feel pity on me. Don’t ask what you can do for me because I have not the slightest inkling, nothing helps. I’ve tried it all to no avail. Just keeping it real.