If you have followed my writing in any capacity, you may have noticed that I have taken a break.
Can I be totally honest for a minute?
I had to stop writing because I was just so sick of it.
I was sick of being a widow.
I was sick of feeling like I had to defend my feelings. It didn’t matter if those feelings were grief related or not.
I was sick of being put into situations where I felt like I had to defend my feelings.
I was sick of being defined by my grief and my widowed status
I was sick of all the projections and expections. From others and from myself.
I was sick of the grief. It’s not like I asked for any of this to happen to me or my daughter.
I was sick of people trying to take advantage of me. Plot twist: A few were successful. Ironically these people are usually the most vocally outraged when you set boundaries.
I was sick of the people who made me feel like less of a person because I had to accept their help.
I was sick of living a life full of empty dreams.
I was sick of people telling me how to grieve and how to widow.
I was sick of people thinking that they have a say on how I live my life. Everyone has a gosh darn opinion and most aren’t afraid to share it.
I was sick of people telling me that I needed to forgive God.
I had finally had enough.
I needed to retreat and recharge.
All my writing was private. For myself only.
I needed a break from y’all.
I don’t know why I said “y’all”. I am not a Southern girl at all. New England through and through.
And no, I am not dissing Southerners. My Southern friends will agree with me.
The reality is that when I created this blog, I wrote as an outlet to process my feelings.
A way to figure out my grief.
While I can’t say that I have totally figured this grief thing out, but it is much more manageable. Sure, grief still catches me off-guard at times but I know how to handle those emotions now.
I don’t need to write a 1200 word blog post every time the grief monster hits.
And even if I did write a blog post every time grief makes a visit, I do not feel like it would be beneficial to me or to you.
Unfortunately, life never goes back to normal. And how could it? I can’t go back to my life as a wife and mother with the absence of the husband and father.
There’s a gaping hole in what is now my former “normal life”.
And the only person who can fill that gaping hole is never coming back. At least not in any Earthly form.
So I need to figure out exactly what my new normal is.
I took this time of grief and emotional upheaval and purging to question everything I once believed.
I questioned all my relationships. I started to realize which relationships were real and which relationships were fake. Some were surprising.
Once you start seeing the truth, you can’t unsee it. Even if it’s inconvenient.
I now have no choice but to live my truth. At least, the parts of my truth that I have figured out.
I am still working on that.
But really, all of us should be searching for our own truths.
As I search for my truth, I don’t feel comfortable sharing everything.
But I will share what I can.
So what can be expected from my blog at this phase-
1) Any grief related material I feel a need to write about.
2) Aspects of soul searching that I feel called to share.
3) Race-recaps. I ran a race and I still need to write up a recap.
7 thoughts on “Since I’ve been gone”
I found your blog and began following you right about the time you decided to stop or at least take a respite from writing. You see I attended Albany Law school, albeit years before Bryon. That is how I found you! I was googling something about Albany Law and well you know how the internet goes. I was saddened by articles about your husband’s passing , but loved reading about his joi de vivre and the viola I found your story. I wanted so badly to root for you…..to see you find new dreams and for you to find a different kind of joy. And so today I was so happy to see your post. The notion of finding your truth resonated with me. As you get older you cut through the bologna and have no time or patience for phonies…in any form. You yearn for authentic connections and when you find them they are true gold. And so I wish you the best on this journey and know you have an alumnus of Albany Law rooting for you!
Take your time. Do your thing
We missed you, Kerry. Keep writing no matter what is the topic… While few excel in the funny part, most good writings are about sadness, grief, sorrows, …
Positively, I’m pretty sure there are still many beautiful things in your life.
I get it. I also started a blog as a way of coping, trying to find a positive way to carry on. I’ve encountered many blogging widows, and their stories are very different – except many of them share this feeling of resentment, for being criticized for not “performing” their widowhood according to external expectations. It’s been nearly three years for me and I just wrote another post about feeling stuck in grief and pummeled by imposed rituals. I’m happy for you that you took the break you needed. I’m hopeful for us both that we’ll continue to grow and find a new way to define ourselves that respects our love for those we’ve lost but doesn’t feel like a roundabout with no escape. I’ll look forward to reading more about how you are doing.
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You are absolutely right. Widowhood is so frustrating with all the projections and expectations on top of dealing with our “new normal”. I am so glad you reached out. I am trying to figure out how to follow you on the app. Do you want social media pages?
I sort of retreated from social media – Facebook really the only thing I used but the politics had started to get heavy again and I couldn’t take it so I deleted my account. As soon as I can figure out how to just have a page for my blog U may start again. There should be a “follow” button through the app – if you don’t see it you could search for Ridiculouswoman in the Reader, or maybe click on the title of the post to get off the home page and into the blog. Hope it works – thanks for connecting.
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I figured it out!
And I hear you. I have unfollowed a lot of people. Not enough bandwidth to deal with politics.