Right now I’m at the Women’s Coach Alliance conference in Denver, Colorado. There’s an incredible aura throughout this entire event. Amazing speakers, strong women from all walks of life and different backgrounds. Today, I lost it and I do get embarrassed about it. But what people view as vulnerable, in actuality it’s my strength. Vulnerability would be me hiding from the truth. The inability to accept what has brought me to this point in my life. Being widowed is my fabric, and it makes me strong. It is not my weakness.
We had a sports life coach come up this morning to give her presentation and she talked about living our lives as 10s. Always aiming to live in the 10 moments. At that point she asked the room what are some 10 out of 10 moments. People discussed winning a championship, impacting players lives, getting married, birth of a child, etc. And my brain flickers with a story board of moments. All of them landing on 1 specific moment and that was when I spoke in Time Square for the kick off of Cycle for Survival on 9/19/14. What would’ve been my first wedding anniversary.
My stomach clenched, my heart began racing, my palms were sweaty. I was back reliving that moment as I sat in the back of the classroom watching her ask if there’s any other moments. My hand ascended up and I began telling the story and then the tears dribbled down my cheeks and my voice became lost in my throat. I could only display the emotional effect of that day. The power, the value, the meaning and the importance of standing in Time Square talking about the greatest love story there ever was replayed behind my eyes.
I recently wrote an article for Hope For Widows Foundation, check it out:
But I’m getting more and more of these memories returning back to me and evoking such a tremendous emotional response. Is it because of the returning loneliness due to the deployment? Am I beginning to process grief? Did I not process it well enough the first time? I don’t know what’s happening to me. It might be because I’m out of coaching and for once I’m taking time to myself. I have no clue. But it’s a weird mixture of sadness, excitement, power, and resolution. I feel invigorated, refreshed and prepared for the next grand adventure to see where it’ll lead me.
I recently have returned to the widow message boards. I do this every once in awhile. This time I didn’t do it to seek out assistance or to vent. I needed a reminder of the men and women who I share this tragic emblem with. I’m a part of a club, and I need to remember to offer support and guidance to my fellow wids.
I have been having trouble dealing with my boyfriend’s deployment, and I have been feeling lonely, but it’s nothing like when George died. Nothing could ever compare to that. But having an empty bed again does hurt.
I’m looking to put together a grief group here in Montgomery. It’s not just aimed at those who are going through loss of a spouse. I’m learning that grief comes in all different forms. I do think I’m having grief issues connected to the deployment. I also think the change of career is triggering some emotions too. And it made me think of all the other wives, husbands, boyfriends and girlfriends who are going through deployment, or other life changes.
I also think this article I just wrote on berries triggered grief. Good grief that was a hard article to write. Har-har-har.
George would be proud of me, I know he would. So I keep that in the back of my mind. This hiccup will pass and I will learn another valuable life lesson when it’s all over. And then I’ll be that much better pushing forward.
Feeling alone in a crowd
My heart has been heavy, like an anchor keeping me in a perpetual state of worry. I’m making a career change, and I’ve been offered a few jobs but nothing I can see myself truly embracing. I feel the most alive when I’m sucked into research, writing, and creating content. But there’s the deep sense of emptiness creeping up my backside and I’m unable to avoid it. I feel the jaws slowly penetrating my skin and digging deeper and deeper.
I’m feeling the absence. I’m feeling the weight of all the life changes hitting me from all angles. I am not okay. The thirst for control is bubbling and I’ve made necessary changes I know will provide me with that grip to hold on during this turbulence.
- I remind myself there is an end point to this deployment, he will return in October. In October I’ll be able to hold his hand, feel his warmth, press my head into his clavicle. There is an end. But I cannot look up too soon because it will feel longer than it needs to. That’s a lesson I’ve learned from running. Don’t aim for the end too soon, save enough energy for that final push.
- I’ve gone through far worse in my life than a 6 month deployment. There is an end to this.
- I need to let go of what I cannot control
- Don’t behave in ways you’ll regret– no alcohol.
- Allow time for recovery– Keep my multiple work out days to a minimum.
- Eat healthy on a budget– provides a mental stimulus to find deals
- Track all receipts to prevent over spending
- Take care of the dogs so they’ll take care of me
There’s moments in the day when I feel guilty for feeling sad. He’s in another country, sleeping on a bunk around other soldiers with little to no privacy, working 12 hour days. I’m here, in the comfort of our home, with a roof over my head, electricity running through the wires, and clean water at my expense.
The extent of my woes are I feel pressure to find a meaningful job, although all things considered I believe it’s my own personal pressure on the issue. Many who have been in a similar situation tell me I am in no rush. Enjoy this freedom. But it’s a lot to handle to be honest. I don’t want to make another mistake like I did taking the position at Huntingdon. It’s my best interest to separate from there because it was a poor professional decision. But it led me to him. And I need to shore up because I have 4 more months of alone time.
This is my fourth lacrosse season without George. Every preseason is riddled with anxiety and figuring how to deal with it. This season has been particularly difficult because there’s another sense of loss I’ve been trying to deal with.
My boyfriend is in the military. Once New Years hit, he was gone for training. He’s been away now for 8 weeks, and he comes back on Friday. I’m really excited to have him back, but in a short 4 weeks he is gone for 6 months. I know that’s what I’ve signed up for by dating someone in the military, but there’s a massive feeling of conflict has been weighing on me. I’m not going to air my anxieties for professional reasons, but know they are there will remind me when I look back at this post in the future.
I control my attitude toward things and I’ve been trying so hard to head to the office with a clear mind, positive attitude to practice, and be as understanding to the people around me and their needs. But I feel like I’m ignoring my own needs, and when I try to make time to take care of myself, something comes up. I took a personal weekend not too long ago, and ended up working the entire weekend with emails, scheduling, recruits, and relationships with other lacrosse coaches. It’s part of the job, I know. I also know I’m childless and alone too right now, so there’s a weird expectation I need to be on call all the time. I need to find a balance. That’s all this is about. I wrote a lengthy diatribe above to conclude I need a balance.
Adulting is hard. I think I deflect a lot and I need to just deal with the fact that I’m fearful of failing and worried about being alone again. That’s what is causing my emotional distress.