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everything is still at four am.

i've been up since four today.  i am laying here in my bed, alone.  i had a cup of tea after i woke up to help settle my mind.  it's been three nights of dreams.  you know those people that are like "oh gracious, i just never remember my dreams" or the more infuriating, "i don't dream" (SIDE NOTE: YES YOU DO!) (another side note: thanks google!)

i want to punch those people in the face.  i mean sometimes at least.  my dreams are haunting.  even at their best i never wake up happy because of my dreams.  it's been like this since i was a child.  i remember in college one night i dreamt so vividly about being murdered that i stayed up the entire night after it and cleaned our whole apartment.  the girls probably didn't know what hit them.  waking up for an eight am class (brutal!) to see their chipper roommate mopping away after scrubbing out the microwave

"hey guys just had some extra time! just working away here, don't mind me! oh what?  no no!  i've been up for hours.  yeah just had a dream about being murdered, couldn't get back to sleep, you know the usual!"

in my dreams now there is always something missing.  an elusive piece that is never within my grasp.  i'll see people or go places and feel an ache inside.  not even in my dreams can i escape the loss.

i think at this point, i have suffered so greatly and so intensely that it will be a relief when i leave this world.  i remember reading passages that Paul wrote about wanting his journey to be over so he could be with Christ and thinking "that guy is CRAZY! who wants to leave earth?  it is soon totally awesome here!"

i get it now, here there will always be un-fullfilment, here there will always be suffering, here is not where we are meant for.


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i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
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there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
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there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…

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people... i don't even know what that is.  but i know what i want…

dating in 2016, also huge LOL at even posting this.

Half of me can’t even believe I am writing this post.  Dating is gruesome, isn’t it?  Like most of life, I suppose.
The weekend that Jim died I was standing there, a wreck, while my phone was blowing up.  Alayne goes “who is texting you so much?”
I respond “oh those are just my tinder matches” 
and I know that not everybody gets the hilarity and all I can say is until you are in the fire, you don’t see the need for a respite from getting burned.
anyways, i was talking to my therapist about dating and i commented “single, widowed mom, sole custody of two kids… it’s a tough sell” and it is.  
i have this story that literally leaves people speechless.  most people when they hear it don’t even really know how to interact with me much less get involved romantically.  and i know eventually it won’t be such a big part of my identity, this widowed, grieving mom, but right now it is and if i want anything to do with the person then it’s like they have to know it.  
again, it’s a tough sell.