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Our Community / All insights on my situation very welcome
« Latest by tadsa29 on Today at 11:46:20 AM »
Hi All

I am hoping that I am doing this correctly! I have been on this site for a couple of weeks now and am very confused about how to post properly.

My story:

Some background - together 26 years, married 3. H songwriter / musician with unrealised ambitions to succeed that have (imho) destroyed him. Some near misses which makes it even worse in some ways. H also unwell with ulcerative colitis for about 15 years which finally culminated in major emergency surgery and his colon being removed. He now has a "bag for life" as my son (17) calls it.

H very withdrawn / depressed for about 6 months before the ILYBINILWY in Feb 2020. EA with OW - at that point predominantly multiple texts but she was also a member of a contemporary choir that me and H ran together and her daughter had music lessons with H. She pursued for a long time and I was very aware of it but so certain of H (BIG mistake) that I felt there was no danger.

Since Feb this year he has left and returned a few times but seems completely unable to stop texting OW. In his words "I'm scared I'm going to contact her".

H has no work, nowhere to live (currently in tiny box room at his mother's) and as far as I can tell since leaving "properly" at the beginning of September is only seeing OW sporadically.

H said that due to his illness etc he found that he deferred to me on everything and even since surgery, cannot find himself again and being around me means he needs constant validation from me to do anything. I will fully admit that this is true but don't agree that his illness was the crux of this. I am much more of a do-er, lots of get up and go, optimism, positivity etc whereas H is a deep thinking, dreamer sort of guy. Consequently if anything needed doing, he would leave it all to me despite my asking his opinion (I would usually get an "I don't know" response)

I feel that our whole relationship has been superb and have always felt that we connected on so many things (politics, religion, comedy, film, football, music (this is both of our main interest - we played in bands together, ran a choir etc)

H is not your typical MLCer as far as I can tell. Our interactions when we see each other fall straight back into superb conversation, shared interests etc and he doesn't blame me for anything, saying I am "fantastic". H very much wants to help out at home and wants us to be the best of friends. I simply cannot do this - it hurts to much to see him too often.

H makes excuses to linger when he comes to see our son. He felt completely swallowed up by everything in his life and was even suicidal for a while. I firmly believe that everything he needs is right here at home and that all of the stress of his illness and the unsuccessful career is what is driving his deep depression. He feels on some level that it is our relationship.

I love him to distraction - he is the love of my life and we get on so well but I am at a loss as to how to turn this around. I DID file for divorce simply because atm, neither of us are earning but when my business is back up and running, I earn a good deal more than him and that will complicate matters. My filing didn't make much difference to him - tbh we only got married to celebrate that we had gotten through his major surgery together - we were solid as can be just living together.

We are based in the UK - I have been avidly searching for help on here. It seems that most MLCers are Vanishers or Monsters and my H is neither of those things so I need help dealing with this. Please, anyone, help me!
Our Community / Re: Remind me later.
« Latest by terra on Today at 11:25:47 AM »
Treasur, thank you, especially for this part:

I've usually found that the tricky bit is working out what I am supposed to do with it after it happens....  ???

And this may be the case after this bit of sad news for you, Terra......imho go slow before you react but go quick on sending love and prayers out into the same bit of the universal ether that created an open door for the message to reach you....and please look after you first and foremost, stay aligned with you xxx

I am definitely going slow before reacting, but instantly dropped into prayer and love messaging, and stayed there a good hour or more before I came out to write here last night.

It started out as prayer, but within a moment, had turned simply to remembrance of everything, all the love and all the good life, addressed directly not to God but to FIL himself. What I would have said if I were physically right there beside him, although I realized it was also the kind of address that might be very hard to convey as that disembodied voice in a phone call.

This was a way I realized that auditory/felt sense “hallucination” is actually a much more expedient and thorough channel through which to transmit. And I do trust that we sometimes do make ourselves present there just by praying or willing the Love. Sometimes I pray it and ask God to please convey it; I did that during their fire watch and have done it long before, with FIL and MIL. Last night I bypassed God and said/felt/loved it all directly to FIL himself.

I know it had to have been felt. I noticed where some of it was actual language and I knew I wished I could say it aloud or record it on the spot, because while it is the private message I would share with FIL (and did), I think it is also probably the best and softest and deepest I could give to h, too. Not as a win-back but just the tender validity of expression, that your father, whom you’ve loved all your life, loved you too, and here’s how I know; here’s how I saw and feel that.

And how all the things you loved him for, all the good that he gave — all the love and all the lessons are in you still and they always will be.

I saw how he loved you, your son; I saw how you both loved him, and felt it myself. What a good man. What a good father and husband and friend.

You are that, too.

There was so much more to it but I am still processing, as I know I will for a long time.


Going slow, before reaction. What I wrote last night here and paused and stepped away from, in consternation I couldn’t even identify:

October 28, 2020

Sometimes when I think on it, I think h was just a walk away spouse.

He could be. In retrospect I really don’t think I knew him long enough to know his baseline self. I thought I did. I know his defection shocked the hell out of everyone, the way he did it. Shocked his parents.

Their evacuation orders have been lifted. I’m grateful for the internet so I don’t have to make certain calls. They’re safe; their home is safe. Anticlimactic maybe but I know how it went here, and in other family counties. The orders lifting, that’s a blessing.

Last night I was asked a scent question and I went to the box that held one particular collection. But the box wasn’t where I thought it was. So I looked in the other place it should have been, and then in the place where it used to be.

It’s been two full months since our fires and evacuation and return. And even though the floorplan and furniture are basically as they were then, nothing else is. I literally up-ended everything else in the house, as we waited through the events. The valuables I took with D to her dad’s, those boxes haven’t come back. And still the house is a weird maze of it looks like we’re moving, even though there’s no money for that and no new or old place to go.

What I mean is, it was weird anyway, and then the fires made it weirder.

I looked for that one box in several places last night, and even in other boxes, several of those, too.

Then I just sat down in sort of a scowling lump and understood I didn’t remember and probably would not find the box for a while. I also knew I would forget I had meant to.

I think I looked in one place today, early in the day. Then I dropped it off the list of stuff to think about.

All the boxes look the same and all of them are different inside now. Stuff got shuffled and reordered in the evacuation time, and :/ I don’t know. No one took notes.

Doing emergency things by oneself, I don’t like. I didn’t know I was so bad at it.


I know part of why this house is always a mess is that I moved a lot as a child and then even more as an adult. In childhood, all my childhood, we never spent more than about 4 years in one place. A few times, we moved within six months of moving. Not because of financial instability or danger or anything like that, but just because if there was money enough, my parents were the kind who put it on bigger and bigger properties in better and better neighborhoods.

That’s great I guess? But not for children, in my experience. Pick a house and stay put. We need time to grow and to root down and make friends.

Oh well.

H’s parents were the opposite. They brought him home to a house they had lived in for years, and then they continued to live in it for all the decades. They moved for the first time in 2015.

Sometimes I think that’s what jarred him loose.

I don’t unpack boxes. I don’t unpack luggage, either, not for months. Because in addition to moving a lot as a kid, I also got sent away every summer, or sometimes during the spring. So if I’ve packed well enough, I leave it packed. Who knows when and how fast it will be time to go, again.

This is one of the reasons my house is a mess, without h.

This is also one of the reasons it hurts that h bought a home with ow. Because I needed one, need one, have never quite managed to have one.

Not that I was ever homeless. Just that no matter where, I learned that I never stayed long.

Not my fault and not my preference either.

Oh well.


Sometimes I think h was a walk away spouse. Then I realize the one key factor to me is the part where it wasn’t quite planned, the moveaway.

If it had been, or even if he’d done it spontaneously with me, he would not have quarantined the dog for ...nine months?? Was it? Six? Six full months. That good dog in a kennel and without h or S.


THAT was the marker, that h wasn’t a walk away and that something in him was really off. That shocking choice to forfeit the dog in favor of ...making a steady home with ow, first alone with her and then with her many cats?

The dog was family. Sometimes over and above all the rest of us. And even spontaneously or already as LBS, at a moment’s notice, I could have had him to the vet and all the paperwork in order for a quick check at receiving airport and direct airport release. I’d have stayed the 30 days here with the dog and either coordinated for him to go straight to h, same day as arrival, or brought him there myself.


That is where I stopped, because I was getting riled and off course. Angry again at the things that didn’t line up at all, the part where this ow is a veterinary technician and so really in the right position professionally to KNOW that some states have quarantines and how to transport a cherished dog by air travel; how to work the system exactly as it is designed, so that if you know what you are doing, or if you are listening to the protocols that pertain to the creatures and clients you serve, you can make sure that the fur child is safely hugged up into the family again and brought home immediately with them after what must feel and be a very un-ordinary and maybe frightening experience for hours in a box among other frightened/sedated/uncertain creatures.

It makes me so mad I could spit. He only had to ask me and I’d have told him how to do this part. That ow should have known and I don’t see how she didn’t, or why their flight didn’t include proper planning for our dog.

The dog was his more than mine, he wanted it like that and I’m not sure why. My mother was always like that too.

I am more of an “ours” person, and I don’t know why some people aren’t. But I concede that there are probably important reasons for the difference and I give room for it to be what it is.

Life is too short to have fights about that, I think.

But he went away with a vet tech ow and the dog died a year after the long flight and six-month quarantine ended. I know there were ultimately medical reasons, but. I also feel, maybe unfairly? that even a bottom of the barrel vet tech (and I have never ever met one of those in all my pet owner career) *would KNOW* how to work with the system the way it was designed, so that *that particular dog* would NOT have to be separated from his beloved people.

MY beloved people.

And I know the dog and know myself and know h too and S as well and last night I stopped writing because it felt like I was getting riled and off course.

That ow should have known, and so should have h, because even *I* knew, and what do *I* know.

I’m just a broke LBS raising my child by myself with no college degree and no real paid employment during the pandemic of election year 2020.

I’m just a daughter whose parents live a nice life and who don’t ever think to even call, let alone move to 15 minutes away for emotional and other support.

Well, poor me, maybe, or maybe just me slipping into making comparisons between me and the one h is with now. And that’s why I stopped writing last night. Because it’s stupid.

That vet tech ow should have known. I’ll stop short of accusing that she probably did know perfectly well, because then it turns into how stupid was h that he didn’t look into direct release himself, or what was it about their — fairly fresh and rainbow-y, I suspect — time or temperature as a couple, that made him overlook the protocols and emotional health of that excellent beloved dog.

I stopped writing because I had hit a hard place: that ow should have known, if h didn’t, and should have cared enough, for all that she was getting out of him.

I will possibly never, ever forgive her for it. That quarantine, to me, and the dog’s death the following year, last year, is the one part of all of this that I am 100% certain is exceptionally her entire fault.

It isn’t an accident or an “oopsie” when you professionally fail to expedite the quick release of an adult German Shepherd who is loved and whose owner has over and above the wealth needed to make things happen more quickly or efficiently than they otherwise do.

It’s negligence.

That’s my big fat opinion today and I’m finally saying it aloud here, having stuffed it for the better part of 16 months or almost 2 full years. I was horrified when h told me months into his new life that the dog was in quarantine still and wouldn’t be out until spring. He was suffering from it and the dog was too.


God, it feels good to say all of that. And saying it also feels equally bad.


When I woke to h’s text just two? was it three? hours after he’d sent it, just two? was it three? hours after I’d unblocked the line, I texted back not thinking of what time it was there at all. It was 2 AM here. I told him just as I would if he’d said it to my face, “h I am so sorry. Have been watching [inlaws’ town] news for days.”

He wrote back that he was there 2 weeks ago, “so I spent time with him and he still recognized me.”

I hearted that. What do you say to that. There aren’t enough words, or ready ones.

“Now he doesn't recognize my mom.”

Oh, no.



I admitted it, “Oh, no. I don’t have words. I’m so sorry.”


What do you say when really these are moments where in person there are so many other ways to express care? Or to share and comfort without a single sound at all?


“Yes. I was in [____] to bury my aunt, see dad, and see my son.”

I had to pause, to take that all in. Aunt Susie is dead now, and they’ve buried her. H was there, with his family. With his dad and mom, and with his son.

H was here a few hundred miles south, in the care of his family, and with his son.

S was here, a few hundred miles south, with his dad, and with the two elders he so loves.


Good that they were here together, for that family event and at all.

I finally found words: “I’m glad you were able to make the trip.” He doesn’t fly, usually. And the pandemic has been very troublesome for flights coming and going from where he lives now.

It’s so good that he flew. I know it was never easy for him, requiring pre-flight sedative at the boarding gate. He came home for Aunt Susie, for his dad, and for S. And if it wasn’t a joyous occasion that brought him home, it still was critically important.

The dream of him in the neighboring hotel suite, looking for me and wanting to connect, and the way his temperament was in the dream, suddenly made a lot more sense somehow. But that wasn’t what I wanted to say or what was appropriate and I didn’t know what I would ever say about it to him anyway. That was just a dream.

“I’m sorry about your aunt as well,” I said instead, because I was. She’d been the one person in the family who really understood h, besides his dad. A stuffy sarcastic old spinster great-aunt. I couldn’t remember, suddenly, whose sister she was.

I actually got up then and bolted to the far end of this too-small house, leaving my phone on the kitchen counter as I passed it.

When I came back to it a few minutes later, or a few minutes after a few minutes had passed, he had answered.


and a long pause, and then,

“Thank you”

and I didn’t know what to say back, because “You’re welcome” sounded just wan and bizarre, so I came out here to pour out into my thread instead.


This morning after I went back to sleep and dreamt weirdly further and then woke up again, I did look again briefly for that box that holds the particular scent collection I’d been asked about the other night.

That thing is lost and it’s not at all the thing I need at this time. I won’t need it for probably weeks, now.

I wanted instead the oil I knew was under the lid upon which rests the glittering rock of Home, upon which rests my wedding ring. And for some reason I just knew I did not have the *something* to even lift any of those things.

It’s not that they are heavy. It’s more that all of them were caringly placed there, one on top of the other, a bit like a burial cairn. The stone from home is honored well here I think, far from where it was taken and far also from where I retrieved it for the honoring. But all of that was very intentional and it was partly to mark that my life of loving h might be over, when really, it just is not.

I opened the nightstand instead, hoping that in the fires and evacuation and return I had somehow either forgotten what was there or else had enough sense, after taking it out and preparing to run, to put it all back where my body knows to find it. And it was, still there. Either because I had forgotten it or else had enough sense afterward.

The right boxes were there, and in them the right stuff, I knew. Oils from the winter harvests, in the years I had bought those, and the year D and I drove into the forest to camp and work alongside the harvest team. The oils that smell like the place of my dead father, the ones that had been made by the man my age who looked like him and who died earlier this year.

I chose the one farthest from me and closed the drawer, and opened the small bottle of mossy green oil and just did what I knew to do. Oil into palms, a prayer, and then into my hair.

A blessing, a prayer, an anointing; a thing I would do for the sick or the dying. Aware that it was like all the Sacraments, like something that might already be happening for FIL as his wife and family stood by or knelt or sat and watched. Aware that this small act of my own was as much about my own need and the blessing and Love I’d have given to my own father, or to my friend, at their end time, if I’d known.

Not about me, but the only way I could move to complete a gesture I can’t physically otherwise do and that I don’t know how else to say or convey, to anyone. Or even explain simply, because the end of a long life, even when expected, is not something that fits into words well. Because the end of a long life is all of it; it’s Everything. It’s all there ever was. It’s all the faces and voices and lessons and Love, and it just doesn’t fit into any language at all. How could you tell anyone 89 years of a life, in any length of time, when it took 89 years to live it all and every moment mattered?

My grandmother was 89 when she died. Her astrology, like MIL’s connects to the “father” place in my natal chart right now. I always thought MIL would go first, and like a child, I always feel my grandmother and she would have been the best of friends in life and maybe even crossed each other’s paths in a church somewhere down there.

My father’s death chart hits that same natal house too, and that always seemed to make sense to me. What happened to him at all and that my life would probably be a bit hard, or heavy, or jagged like the rock that took him completely away.

It makes sense to me then, the way the charts symbolize some things that maybe are just coincidence.

Coincidence. I won’t do dictionaries right now but rudimentary memory wants to say it means co-incidents, and that’s what these are. They still seem to me to be petroglyphs drawn by the finger of God. And like that, they seem written in stone even if they aren’t, and sometimes they are very hard.


I am grieving all kinds of life’s turns, today, even if nobody escapes the endings.

I wish I knew which to do, wish ow did NOT exist in between and would NOT be a continuing factor; am glad I did not telephone the other day when I thought I might should. Am glad I listened and opened the blocked line; am glad h did not make me wait or forget about me but instead availed himself almost immediately of the sudden (f i n a l l y) opportunity to get through to me in his favored and quickest element.

Glad he told me; so very sad and deeply touched by the news.

I knew last night not to prolong the interaction and I know today not to initiate. As I think I said soon after I said it all here, about the fires and evacuation zones where FIL and MIL are, for me there came to be a protocol about how to approach family in emergency or crisis events, and this morning I am surprised that h sort of has it too. Text first. In our generation and our family it seems to be what works.

I don’t know that I will hear from him again until his dad has passed. I hope S is living close to family and well cared for, in all of this, as he is still so young and he loves his Opa thoroughly. And I hope MIL is surrounded in care. I knew if I phoned, the other day or evening, that it would be MIL I would speak to most deeply. But I didn’t realize this was part of the reason why.


I went through the intensity of our own local fires, so I knew from my own body that this week’s fires could be the end of either or both of those two old beloveds. I will really miss FIL, and I knew that well ahead of now.


He gave me the best advice on Loving that I have ever received.

That is the part I remembered to him last night, in my prayers and energy and Love. I wish I could stand to write it all here, or to say it out loud to MIL in quiet care.

FIL and MIL have been married now I think 67 years.

They don’t make them like that anymore. It was an absolute honor to be with them, ever, and all of it changed my life.
Our Community / Changed. Change. Changing!
« Latest by Sam I Am on Today at 10:19:46 AM »
Special Edition Journaling Today:

Today is my Bombaversary.  Three Years!  Wowsa!

How do I feel?   Honestly...I feel great.  I knew today was creeping up.  Last year I scheduled to take today off.  Do something special for me.  This has been what I do for since Bombaversary #1.

#1:  I kept busy all day long.  Made sure I had no downtime to drown in my own sorrows.

I had a morning massage followed by lunch with Sis.  We had a great afternoon together.  Then I headed to D's house and had supper with her and fam and stayed until time for Gr Kids to go to bed.  Then home.  It was overall a good day.  I believe there may have been a few moments where I wanted to cry.  Can't remember if I did or didn't.  I just know it was not a wasted day for me.

#2:  I started the day out with a massage again.  Supper was planned with a friend.  In between, I planned to do some work at the house.  I was outside painting trim when H stopped by.  He actually helped me paint for a few hours.  I remember him being really nervous when he got there.  Relaxed when he left.  We didn't talk much.  I never brought up the day.  A very short time later he told my sister he knew he left 2 years ago but he was messed up and had to take care of himself and that he loved me but.....

#3:  I planned on taking the day off.  Due to Covid, nothing is open so why bother.  I canceled my day off and took half a day instead.  I picked up GS from school to help out D and give me a few mins with him.  Tonight I'll go play some PB but this afternoon I am working and saving my time for another day.

So today is just another day.  Over the last few years, the significance of today has been lost.  I still know it was BD day.  I still remember that pain that day and the turmoil that followed.  However, I also recognize that I am now a much better person and I continue to become a better person all the time. 

I miss H.  Not the H I see now.  I miss the man I fell in love with in 1984!  However, I also see the regrowth of the person I had slowly killed off over the years.  I quit on me.  Never quit on my family or my marriage....I quit on me.  I see that now.  I devalued myself and overvalued everyone else.  I wasn't well balanced.

Now...I have that balance.  I really do love the person I have become!  I hate what has happened....but I am loving the results.

I hope if anyone new into your journey is readying or anyone who is stagnant in your journey is reading your self a favor....forget about MLC.  Forget about H...concentrate on you.  Do you for you!  Make yourself happy.  Value yourself and realize how important you are to others and you don't need to prove it all the time.  Most of all.....find yourself.  Find the person you were always destined to be and make that the best person you know.

I beg you to get over the sorrow.  Let the bitterness go.  Learn what is important to you.  Show your strength and grow.  With the right can use this as a launching bad to be better than ok.

Lastly......time really is your friend.  Three years ago I could never have imagined being where I am today.  I am happy.  I am growing.  I am accepting it.  I am not only living life to the fullest but thriving while I do it!  You can do.  It is all in your mindset.  I got here ONE day at a time over time.  You can to.  Everyone can if you look for the positives.  Learn and grown and become the best person you can be. 

I wish everyone out there well and hope you stay safe during these troublesome times!  -Sam-
Our Community / Wife in crisis
« Latest by LBS Learning on Today at 10:10:30 AM »
That looks really interesting! I have looked at a few basic resources about the “unhealthy” versions of the various types, but this seems to delve into the subject a bit more comprehensively. I feel like there is always so much to learn about the subject and about the self, so this is much appreciated.
Our Community / Wife in crisis
« Latest by Treasur on Today at 10:00:11 AM »
You might find some of Naomi Quenk's books interesting if you are interested in MBTi under life stress or as part of how we evolve
Our Community / Wife in crisis
« Latest by LBS Learning on Today at 09:31:22 AM »
Treasur...boundaries have always been an interesting thing for me. In some ways I can tend to let myself be overly emotionally invested with someone, but on the other hand I struggle to open up and share my deepest hopes and fears. I don’t know how much of this was always me, how much is related to my FOO, how much has developed over my adult life. I only had one other long-term relationship before this one, and it was mostly long-distance and not particularly close, if I am being completely honest. In my relationship with W, we were pretty enmeshed, especially early.

In terms of my own needs...I definitely need quiet time on my own to just be in my own head. I can be a bit of a dreamer, and a bit too focused on the future possibilities to buckle down and take the concrete steps to get there - though I have tried to overcome that. I have always overcome it enough to ensure I can be self-reliant in terms of paying my bills, and that has led to taking a safe path and pursuing a path because I can do it rather than because it’s what fulfills me. (I wouldn’t pursue something I hated simply for security, but certainly when given a choice between “safe option that is fine” and “risky option that evokes passion,” I have generally chosen the safe one.)

Now, the path for me seems to be about balance. There can be enough safety while still having room for passion. There can be emotional security while still leaving room for vulnerability. There can be active time in nature without my needing to be athletic enough for a difficult hike. There can be a healthy diet while still leaving room for treats I really enjoy. There can be observation of my W’s actions without obsessing over her motivations. I feel like these are the lessons I am learning, and the ones I’m working on applying to my life. I don’t know if that fully addresses the topic but hopefully it shows how messy my thoughts around this have always been. And I appreciate the agreement that my W isn’t really in the best place to understand what is going on with me at this time, even if she did really want to...and I’m not sure she wants to right now because on some level she needs to see me in a particular way to support her current narrative about me and our marriage.
Our Community / Rebuilding after Hurricane MLC
« Latest by LBS Learning on Today at 09:00:39 AM » always, Acorn, you highlight some of the most important lessons of this process. I feel like one of the most significant things I have learned is that you are only going to recognize reconnection (and it seems the same applies to reconciliation) in hindsight. Which I guess goes along with the mantra of “no expectations.” When my W spends more time here or makes overtures toward the two of us going out together, when she shares things with me about what she is doing or learning, when she is interested in me and what I am first, every single gesture on her part felt to me like it was a start toward reconnection - because she said she did want to be connected to me but she needed to figure out herself first. So every gesture felt like a new beginning...and then she cycled back and I was disappointed and hurt and angry. But over time, I have learned that I can appreciate the positive interactions in the moment, take them at face value, and continue to keep my expectations at zero - avoiding those negative emotions and therefore staying on my own path.

I am still learning and don’t always apply these lessons perfectly. But I can’t tell you how much I appreciate reading of your experience. Even knowing it’s not meant to be advice, just your personal experience, it does help to know that there is the potential for reconnection, but most importantly personal happiness, on the path of “no expectations.”
Our Community / It’s the little things in life...
« Latest by PJ Will Be OK on Today at 08:54:15 AM »
Happy belated birthday FJ! Sorry I missed it. My electricity has been out due to an ice storm. Yuck!

You're in my thoughts and prayers today. Sending positive vibes your way.
Our Community / Hhaving a hard time with this
« Latest by xyzcf on Today at 08:44:10 AM »
Even many years later, intellectually I understand MLC. I accept that he is gone. My heart though still doesn't think the way my head does.

I will probably never understand why he didnt just talk to me about these feelings he was having.

In most situations in life, good or bad, we work at trying to find a solution. Their leaving the way they do and absolute refusal to talk to us about it goes against the way that we live in other situations..and this from the person that we trusted the most in our lives.

It causes "damage" to us, many people here have been diagnosed with PTSD, when that was first suggested to me, I didn't think it could apply...PTSD was for military vets or people who had been raped or assaulted....yet, our worlds were shattered, blown apart without warning in most cases.

We go into a state of fight/flight/freeze and sometimes we remain in that state much longer than is healthy for us. Trying to get out of that cycle can be very becomes part of who we are.

The anniversary dates, seeing other "happy" couples, the struggles that this hits us with is very very hard to get a handle on.

But, little by little, we let go of what takes much longer than I would ever have thought and for some of us it takes much longer than others.

I know that when we are not in "touch" we think they will forget us. Contacting with any kind of questions regarding what happened or what will happen  is not suggested. If you feel the need to contact, this is what I found helpful.

I contact him on his birthday and other special days. Sometimes I send him something funny that I know he will like. He does the same. He contacts me on certain occasions. When he does, I respond to him.

I used to hate when I would be told here "no expectations"...but that is 100% true. Whatever you decide to do regarding contact, don't expect any response back or a response that you would like.

Some people find absolutely no contact is easier for them. Some situations are so abusive that contact would be dangerous. It's very individual.

Some of the need to contact is actually anxiety. What can you do to decrease your anxiety? I exercised, did yoga, spoke to friends and sometimes took medication to break the cycle when I would get into a place that I couldn't stand (for me it would show up in my hands literally shaking).

You will find what works for you. This is not easy.

Keep writing.
Our Community / Hhaving a hard time with this
« Latest by PJ Will Be OK on Today at 08:41:53 AM »
Following along Gypzziroze.

Sorry you're going through this and having a hard time. Anybody would, so don't get down on yourself.

I can see you're getting some good advice here. I won't add anything other than to encourage you to get out of your head a little if you can. Do you have any exercise or fitness activities? Hiking, biking, running, kickboxing, etc... If not, this would be a good time to start. It helps your overall mood as well as with sleep. Also, drink plenty of water and get as much sleep as you can. Be good to yourself.

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