(September 25, 2017 at 8:54 pm)Cyberman Wrote: I'm trying. I've tried. Truly. I don't know what more I can do to try. In all honesty, this stuff doesn't enter my thoughts until and unless it comes up. I've considered a lot of what you all said, long ago. I knew that comparing Ms Ann Other to Sam would be unfair to everyone involved, and I let that stop me for the longest time. Now I'm beyond that. I want companionship, I want affection. Sam and I had this thing where we would gaze into each other's eyes, and I could see myself in the reflection the way she saw me. Now she doesn't even have eyes, and I miss that. Maybe one day I will meet the next Ms Right, despite having known Ms Perfect, but I'll be content with Ms Good Enough For Now. I know how bad that sounds, but I know other people that do it, and they don't have to pay for it.
Perhaps maybe some sort of bereavement group might help? There are many widows and widowers who feel lost and perhaps having a similar connection and being able to talk about it might help over time?
I know there is no easy fix, but if you shut yourself off from any help that might get you to move on, then you're just continuing to hurt yourself.
I know this isn't the same, but when I was 18 years old, I became pregnant with twin daughters. I was working a full time plus a part time job, as was my then boyfriend. One day, when I was six months pregnant, he came home from his second job at 3 am. I was having this stupid craving for lettuce and Pringles. He had barely gotten in the door when I started hounding him to run to the store, totally ignoring the fact that he was exhausted. He square punched me in the stomach and immediately felt remorse. Up to that point, he had never hit me. He started crying profusely and immediately picked me up and took me to the hospital.
Long story short - he had hit me so hard that it caused a skull fracture to one of the babies. I had no choice but to deliver them. I refused to press charges because I knew that he didn't hit me out of anger, but because he was tired. He was working seven days a week. I was working five. We were both exhausted. I shouldn't have been working so much at that stage, especially with twins, but we didn't want to struggle once they were born so we were essentially stockpiling money and supplies. Neither baby survived. This past March, they would have both turned 27 years old. This was 1989. The would have been born in March of 1990.
Is it the same? No. But I was in love with my unborn children and for the last 27 years, I've been left with wonder. Wondering what they would have looked like, sounded like, how well they would have done in their lives. Would I be a grandmother at my age now? All of those things, I will never know. I haven't forgotten, but I also don't let all of those "what ifs" define the rest of my life. I have two daughters who came along after that, one has Down syndrome. I also have two step sons. I'd say my life is pretty full. I've had ups and downs and good times and bad. But I've lived the last 27 years of my life without letting what could have been, define my life.
I hate the month of March. But I also hate the month of December. I lost my dad 22 years ago, three days before Christmas, back in 95. Jordan, will be 22 this Saturday. I haven't been allowed to see her for three years. It will be the fourth birthday I've missed and not because I wanted it that way. Jordan never got to know her grandfather. He died before she turned three months old. I still miss him to this day. He was my best friend. He was the only parent I bonded with. And he died after only gotten to hold Jordan three times in her life.
All of these things aren't being told to you so that I can say my situation was/is worse than yours. They aren't. Your loss is just as important to you as my losses are to me. The difference between us is that I refuse to allow myself to wallow in the guilt that I could have done anything to prevent my twins from dying, or my dad from dying or the parental alienation of my 22 year old. I didn't know that any of that was going to happen and I refuse to blame myself for that because I was just as much of a victim as they were.
I cannot possibly be a good mother to the four kids I have now, if I am constantly comparing them to how the twins might have turned out. That simply isn't fair to the children alive for me to love today. That said - I will never forget my dad or my twins. And I most certainly hold out hope that Jordan and I will be reunited one day. But for the moment - I have to live in the here and now because there are people who care about me NOW and I care about them. And we all need each other.
Forgetting isn't an option, but moving on must become an option if you want to live the rest of your life as a happy person because we all only ever get this one life to live. There's no rehearsal, no do-overs, no second chances at life. You have to make the best of it and I think that's what Sam would want you to do. Push yourself out of the stagnant waters of your life and look forward to the fact that you get another chance to be happy again the next day.
You could not possibly know that anything was going to happen to Sam. None of us has the gift of foresight. You did nothing wrong. You simply could not have ever known that events would happen the way they did. Accept that reality. Stop punishing yourself for not being able to predict the unknown. It's long past the time you forgave yourself and quit mentally bashing your head against a wall for not being able to do something.
I get that you want a companion and affection. But really read my last post to you and take the next year to find your inner happiness. Realize that you need to bring an offer of happiness, companionship and affection to a relationship. Start with having a relationship with yourself. Truly learn to look in the mirror and LOVE the person you see. Once you can do that - the world will start to look different to you.
Disclaimer: I am only responsible for what I say, not what you choose to understand.