As my limited audience is made up of people from FB, you will all already know that yesterday wasn't a good day. I was actually just another bad day in a week of not too good days where I have been missing Mike's presence very badly. I have woken up and immediately wished he was next to me. I tried to express, clumsily that I was feeling lonely on FB and the usual friends came along and simply said they were thinking of me or sending a virtual hug. That was okay, I know I wouldn't know what to say either. Then came "friends" who thought some advice was needed. I politely said thank you to everyone and expressed that their kind remarks wouldn't hold me when I had nightmares or make me a coffee first thing. I thought that would stop them in their tracks, that they would understand. Hell no! I cannot remember the exact words, but a reply came that with time I would be able to make my own coffee (excuse me, but I already can) and that hopefully the nightmares would stop (over my dead body?). Why don't you get out those four walls, get a job, go on a college course? What if I did? Would that give me someone to hold me in bed at night? Would that fill the gaping Mike sized hole? Such stupid remarks when I had clearly said what it was I was lonely about.
The cherry on the cake was someone lamenting the loss of their dog who had died aged three. Lots of her friends saying how sorry they were. How they knew how she felt, they missed their dogs too. Someone asked what had happened, she quickly responded that she was too upset to talk about it but Doodah would fill them in (Doodah being the husband). That one remark sums it up, I have no Doodah, no one to turn to when something happens, whether it be minor or major. That is why the loss of a soulmate is so much worse than losing anyone else, there is no one to turn to for comfort or advice.
You see I am a Taz. I am so angry with the world and the stupid things people say. I want to tear the place up, it isn't fair. I am angry with myself for not being able to make him better. I know deep down that as I don't have godly powers there was nothing I could do, but if only I had been more insistent about him not having the second SCT his lungs wouldn't have been damaged and his last two years wouldn't have been so miserable. I know in reality that he probably wouldn't have lived the two years without the SCT, but grief doesn't necessarily compute logically. I'm angry that others still live, bad people who should have taken Mike's place. Again I know I don't have godly powers, the right to say who should or shouldn't live, but I bet I'm not the first or last person to feel this way.
I could rant on for hours. Feel free to join in.
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