This is triggering but I need to let it out
Trigger warning for suicidal ideation, but I'm okay. I'll explain more at the end.
My partner died in January. And I’ve lost my will to live ever since.
It was the middle of 2022 when he told me the cancer recurred. He gave me an out. We didn’t have any commitment then, so if I left he would understand. I didn’t leave. We were optimistic. I was optimistic; if not about the illness, at least about my (mental) ability to handle caregiving.
And so, I started my life of frequent chemotherapy, doctor visits, blood tests, and pain management, on top of a busy job, house chores, and managing my own life. Soon, his illness became our illness; and I felt guilty every time I had to leave him for work. I felt hopeless every time his temp spiked or his stomach hurt and there was nothing I could do other than giving him the prescribed painkillers.
But by god, I showed up. I realized then that all those months in therapy had led me to this moment. I used everything in my arsenal to maintain my mental stability, and I knew I could do it. I knew I had what it took to sail this ship for the both of us. And I did. And then he died.
I thought I knew what grief was. My grandparents died when I was a kid. My father died a few years ago. And I was fine. Yet this time, I am not fine.
I didn’t know a human body—our small, small human bodies—could feel like this. I had been sad and depressed before. I was preparing for it. But what the fuck is this.
I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. This pain surging through my whole body; a body that still remembers his warmth, his smell, and the texture of his skin. A body that misses him and is shocked to find his side of the bed empty.
To be inconsolable is one thing, but this pain is irreconcilable.
I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I just want to die. The only thing that keeps me going is my promises to him. He made an arrangement before he died, and I promised I’d carry it out for him. And I feel like the only thing that’s sustaining me right now is my sense of duty to him, and that has to be enough.
He died in January, a lifetime ago. I accepted right away that he died. He did not live anymore. I know that. His death is a giant paradigm shift in my life. There is no way I come out of it unscathed. And that’s what I’ve been struggling with. I’ve been struggling to accept that I simply won’t be the person I used to be anymore. The person I was before he died. The person he fell in love with.
I’ve been also finding it hard to care about anything, because how is anything more important than his absence. What is the point of continuing all this. One day, I’m also gonna die anyway. Suddenly, ghosts and death don’t scare me anymore. I welcome his ghost. I welcome my death. If not today, then someday.
And this makes me feel so torn, because I know for sure that he would have wanted me to live. The problem is I can’t see what living is anymore.
I feel like I’ve been on autopilot mode. I still remember how to work and socialize. So I pretend to. Work has been fun, my friends and family have been very supportive and great. But I’m not feeling it. Sometimes it makes me feel bad and guilty, like I’m being ungrateful. In the end, I just remember to be kind to myself. I’m grieving.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about why. Why did I do it? I could have walked away and avoided all this pain. Why did I stay? In my mind, I see a child who doesn’t believe it when people tell her that fire is hot. The child has to touch the fire for herself to find out the truth. And so she does. Her hand is burning and she’s doing everything to douse the fire out. Now she knows for sure that fire is hot. She has the burnt scar to remind herself of it. A scar that will be with her forever.
At the time, I did it because I loved him; because it was about what kind of person I wanted to be. But now I know. I also did it simply because I didn’t know. I didn’t know it would be like this.
My ignorance was both a blessing and a curse. I took a huge bet and it rewarded me with the greatest love of my life, a relationship of a lifetime. And an equal price.
I’m still looking for the hikmah in all of this. I don’t know when I’ll find it. Though I don’t see the point, I still wake up and go to work every day. I still have my promises to keep. Work still needs me. And I can’t bear his disappointment in me if I choose to give up. So I tell myself to be patient.
In the beginning, I was still trying to be the person he believed I was. But I’m afraid I’m not that person anymore. Today I’m just doing my best. I believe he would understand.
A tweet stopped me in my track the other day. It says, “Assume that everyone is grieving.” I understand the sentiment now.
So, I’m evolving. I don’t know what kind of person I’m gonna be. But I hope I’ll like her.
I went back and forth about releasing this because I’m afraid of freaking people out. But then I thought, what’s wrong about feeling like you want to die? I’m sure a lot of us feel that way at some point in our lives. It happens and I don’t want to pretend otherwise.
However, I just want to assure you that I’m okay. Yes, I’m depressed and grieving. But I’m still relatively healthy. I still eat. I go to work. I do stuff for myself. I’m back in therapy. I don’t live alone. My friends and family check on me. I take steps and measures to keep myself alive.
I’m purposeless right now, and my therapist said I’m gonna be like this for a bit. But he’s confident I’ll pull through and find my purpose again. I’m not as confident yet, but I’m being patient with myself. She’s been through a lot. I’ve been through a lot. I’m just gonna take my time.
I hope this letter doesn’t make you feel too bad. If anything, I hope it makes you feel less alone.