backwards.

Lately I have been trying to assess where I'm at.
In my grieving process.
I do this every few months or so.
Sometimes I feel like I have made leaps and bounds.
Like I'm getting better.
Getting a grasp on things.

Sometimes I feel like I have gotten no where.
Like I am at square one. (is that even a saying? I have no clue but it sounds appropriate)
Like it happened yesterday.

Lately, it feels like it happened just yesterday.
Like I am just finding out the news.
And my world is flipped upside down.

It doesn't feel like it has been 441 days, 14 hours and 22 minutes since Michael took his last breath.
(reading that is actually shocking)
As of right now, I can't say that I have gotten any better.
I feel as if I have only gone backwards.

For all of you that say it gets better over time.
It doesn't.

oh the horror!

This week I started school, again. This is the 3rd school (and hopefully final) that I have transfered to. With moving back to Fort Myers after everything happened, school choices were limited. Really my only choice was to start going to Florida Gulf Coast University (FGCU). I really dreaded going here because it's not known for being a really good school. It's nothing like SDSU. It kind of makes me sad, but in a way, it's my only choice. And I did choose to move back here, no one forced me... sort of. I was going to wait to blog about my first week until the end of the week, but so far this week has been a joke. No really. A huge joke.

Day One - My first class was at 2. Which was fine, not a big deal, I usually like to take morning classes to get everything out of the way. But my choices of classes to take were limited since I registered later than most people. I knew I would run into people that I knew from my past. It's inevitable, I am going to the only major university in the town that Michael and I grew up in. But I never expected this... the professor walks in and it's someone I know from high school! Granted, he was a senior when I was a freshmen. He was also in band with Michael and I. In a way, it's not so bad. He remembered me and he knows what happened so maybe he would be sympathetic to what I am going through, I'm not expecting it though. But seriously, what are the odds of this happening?

Day Two - just one class on Tuesday. Again, this one started at 2. I got there a little early so I was waiting in the hallway waiting for the class before me to come out. About 5 minutes before the class started I recognized someone I knew, I had to do a double take because I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was Michael's first serious girlfriend (if you know what I mean). And she was in my class!!! I about threw up. I was so nervous/uncomfortable that my heart was racing a mile a minute and I started to get shaky. If that wasn't bad enough, the class size was small enough that the teacher wanted us to introduce ourselves! She knows who I am (again, we were in band together), she knows I am Michael's wife, and she HAS to know what happened. Thank goodness she didn't say anything to me. But seriously, what are the odds of this happening?! The class is offered 19 times this semester, and each of the classes are capable of holding 25 students. AND she graduated in 2003 and as far as I know, she has only really been in school, so why is she just taking this class now? I wanted to die. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I can't drop or switch into a different class either. Considering the VA and my scholarship, it's too complicated. And I have to take this class in order to graduate on time. On the bright side, the class only occurs once a week, so I just have to avoid her for the next 15 weeks.

Anyway, that whole situation just brought on a whole can of worms I never thought I would have to deal with. I never had to deal with ex-girlfriends when Michael was alive, so why now?! The only thing I wanted to do yesterday was just talk to him. Tell him what was going on and what I should do and how I should handle it. I needed to hear his reassurance that everything would be ok, but his voice is nothing but too far away. It's just another reality check that he isn't here.

Day Three - I had my statistics for behavioral sciences class today. I walk into the class and I see the crypt keeper at the front of the room! My instructor for this class is, I'm sure, older than dirt!! We come to find out that his formal education background is in engineering. Not math. Not psychology. Nope. Engineering. Sooo why is he teaching a course that is critical for psychology majors? It's beyond me. He seems super easy and nice, but I would much rather learn something from someone who is qualified.

At that point I just wanted to laugh... and then go home, because really? Why does it seem like this whole school thing is the worst case scenario? My sister says that it's God trying to test me. But really? haven't I been tested enough?! God really does have a sense of humor if I do say so myself.

However, in the moment when all I wanted to do was go home, I checked facebook and my gorgeous friend Mandy posted a quote:

‎"The test of an adventure is that when you're in the middle of it, 

you say to yourself, 'Oh, now I’ve got myself into an awful mess; 

I wish I were sitting quietly at home.' 

And the sign that something's wrong with you is

 when you sit quietly at home wishing you 

were out having lots of adventure."

And that's what this all is, a freakin' adventure. And I am tired of sitting at home wishing I were somewhere else.

a thousand thank yous!

The other day, I logged onto blogger and I was dumbfounded when I looked at my follower count, and noticed I have over 100 followers. Never in a million years did I think that I would have this many readers. When I started this blogging journey over a year ago, I started it for only 2 reasons. 1 - to be able to connect with others who are going through the same journey as I am. My biggest hope was that other widows would fall upon my blog and realize that they are not alone. 2 - to be able to openly talk (or write) about what I am going through. Ever since Michael died, I have been a closed book. Reluctant to open up about anything to anyone in fear of showing my true emotions. Writing has been that release for me. In a way, it helps me feel better.

So I wanted to say thank you, to all of my readers. Thank you for wanting to know more about the life and love of my husband, SGT Michael Martins. And thank you for wanting to be on this journey with me.

2011

So 2011 is here. I didn't feel the necessity to blog on New Years. Last year was completely different. I did not want to embrace the new year. I wanted nothing more than to dig my nails into time itself to prevent it from going on. I couldn't stand the idea of going into a new year without Michael by my side.

This time around it was a little different. I so desperately wanted 2010 to be over. 2010 was nothing but a bad year, with the exception of a few events. I was scalp deep, and still am, in my grief. I have learned that the only way to achieve happiness is from within yourself. I have learned to rely on no one or thing to make me happy. My struggle this year is to find the strength, will, and motivation to find happiness.

I have also learned that even though the distance from when I last laid eyes on my breathing, alive husband continues to become greater and greater, I know that the distance from when I will be able to see him again continues to get shorter and shorter. And I am learning to be ok with that. I guess in a way, I am starting to accept what has happened.

 I want more good days than bad days. I don't want to be afraid of life anymore. So I guess my new years resolution is to find some sort of inner peace and happiness. Oh and to lose at least 20 pounds. :)

my true friends

Sometimes I feel like grief, depression and anxiety are my only friends. We all sit in a circle on my king size bed holding hands because we are always connected. 

Depression leans over and whispers to me "You will never be that happy again. You are a fat piece of shit. You will always be alone. Death is easier than living. Go eat".  

Anxiety interrupts by screaming "EVERYONE YOU LOVE WILL DIE - DON'T LEAVE YOUR HOUSE, YOU'LL GET INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND DIE- A JET ENGINE WILL FALL FROM THE SKY AND LAND ON YOUR HOUSE AND YOUR DOG WILL DIE"! 

Then grief chimes in with "He is gone. You will never be able to look in his eyes, hold his hand or kiss his lips. No one will ever love you like he did. You will be alone for the rest of your miserable life". 

And this conversation seems to go on and on. Every. Single. Day. Grief - depression - anxiety are the friends that won't seem to go away, but yet they have been there since the beginning. They have been the constant since Michael has died. It almost seems like it would be another loss if they were to go away.

cosmic love

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine 

anticipation

Each of Michael's deployments landed on the same time schedule. Deploy to Iraq in January/February. Come home for R&R sometime around August, be home for 2 weeks. Then finally come home the next January. His first deployment, he walked into my arms on January 31st, my birthday. His last deployment he got to come home early because he was PCSing in February. So he was home on December 8th.

This time of year is usually when I would be anxiously waiting for him to get home. I would feel the rush of anticipation run through my body 24/7. It was annoying and frustrating and time always seemed to drag on longer. Counting down the days, hours, minutes, seconds for him to step foot off of that notorious white bus. I just wanted him home and I always felt like I could not wait a second longer to lay eyes on him.

For some reason, I am feeling that exact same way. I feel it in my whole mind, body and soul - the anticipation for something that will never come. It's so much more frustrating now because I know there is no light at the end of this tunnel. Heaven doesn't have white buses that you step out of to your loved ones. I know he's gone, so why am I feeling this way? Is it just this time of the year? Is my body just used to feeling this way because of the past?

Everyone who is further out than me always told me that going into the second year is so much worse than the first year. Holy shit, they were completely right. That stupid fog has lifted and I am feeling every bit of pain that I didn't feel before. And this whole anticipation for Michael's arrival that will never be is really throwing me for a loop. I hate it. I hate that this was our fate. I would give up anything in the world to have him back.