Looking back a couple weeks ago, at my previous post, I thought that I had most of my fears about Dave attempting again, beat. Now I realize that my fears were merely compartmentalized, tucked away, ready to spring into action when some trigger, some reminder set them off.
The day after I wrote the previous post–I was in my therapy session tearfully explaining Continue reading
Right after Dave’s second attempt, I felt like I was falling apart. I would come home and see Dave’s car in the carport and think, “Oh please, don’t let me walk in there and find him hanging!” If he was getting a little irritated with me, I feared he was tipping toward an attempt. I was afraid to voice my irritations with him. Fear and anxiety were taking over my life.
So two months after his second attempt I requested individual therapy.
Individual therapy helped because I didn’t have to censor what I said. My therapist helped me process my feelings about my husband, Dave, in it’s very rawest stage, in the safety of four walls. During the session I could craft the language in a style that Dave, my husband, could hear and take in and prevent him from walling me off or spiraling towards suicide.
I got to hear over and over again that it was not my fault.
I got to process the trauma. Grieve. Heal.
Though Dave’s last attempt was over a year ago, I’m still processing it. It still affects me. The fears and anxieties still erupt and Individual therapy has been critical in helping me get through that year.
I am doing individual therapy to take care of me. To help me. To support me. It’s what I need and I’m doing it to take care of me.
Note: This post was created on 8-10-12, before the previouspost , but has just been fine tuned and posted.
We are fast approaching the anniversary of Dave’s attempt last year. I am acutely aware of this anniversary date, even though the sixth year anniversary date of his previous attempt passed without a thought.
One thing I’ve noticed is that Continue reading
Dave’s attempt affected our daughter Beth (11 last year) and it appeared to play out in her relationship with me and in her behavior at school.
Through Beth’s eyes I had betrayed her dad. She wanted to know why Continue reading
At a staff meeting my boss shared news that shocked the entire staff. I couldn’t breathe. I took deep breaths–but my lungs felt void of air. The room felt heavy, somber. Tears filled my eyes rolling down my cheeks. My boss looked at me, knowing my background and said, “looks like that hit a nerve.” I nodded and said I was okay. She shared her own worries.
I continued to tell myself to take deep breaths. My air supply returned and I stopped tearing. The staff meeting continued as usual. My throat tightened as I commanded myself not to cry, not to feel. Continue reading
Dave’s checking out today. It’s unclear to me if he’ll be coming home with me or if he’s going to stay with his sister. His sister told him on a visit that instead of ending it all (’cause he’s living with me) he should just come and live with her.
As we walk out, Dave said he’s optimistic. He’s had time to think. He’s glad to be alive.
I’m driving and Dave tells me Continue reading
As soon as I sit beside him, Dave says, “Kate, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be here.” Tears roll down his cheeks. He looks depleted. Defenseless. Defeated. Hopeless. Tears roll down my cheeks, “I know, I know.”
He needs more time. He hasn’t Continue reading