“How can I get over my husband's death?”
My husband died rather suddenly last year because of a serious car accident. My children are a little young, so they both don't understand what happened (not yet anyway), but I'm having issues moving on myself. What should I do on my own? I can't afford counseling at the moment, so any recommendations would be helpful.
8 Answers
This is tough...I professionally/personally don't believe you get over someones death. You will mourn them always, you love them and they will always have a piece of your heart. Its how you handle the passing. Allow yourself to mourn in healthy ways. Some simple ways is burn a nice smelling candle when you are missing them and blow the candle out when you feel calmer. Relight when you are missing them. Remember the fun times. Grief is similar to the waves in the ocean it will come and go. Find things you enjoy. When you get a chance try to find a therapist to help with different ways to help you.
Sorry for your loss. Death of a loved one is always an issue. The following is not mine. Read it on Reddit: Hopefully it helps you in some form.
Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
Nicholas S. Maccarone
Counseling
Sorry to hear about your loss. Therapist do have sliding scales or will do therapy pro-bono. You may be able to seek therapy from an intern or graduate student who will not be able to charge.
I'm very sorry to hear about your loss. I would recommend that you consider seeking support from a support group, pastoral counseling (often free through one's religious institution), or contacting a local university to see if you might be able to receive free counseling from a graduate student. The tendency with grief is to try to push it away. Anything that you can do to help you actively process the grief-related thoughts and emotions will help in the long term.
There are many self-help books and groups that can help you get through this time of grief and loss. I recommend attending a Griefshare group at a local church. You can do an online search for where the nearest group is. They are usually free or low-cost to get the workbook. The support and insights of the others in the group will comfort you as you work through the loss. You should seek professional help if you have overwhelming emotions, especially of guilt or anger. You also may need medication if the depression becomes a chemical imbalance, and you lose all enjoyment of life. This is a time when your children will really need you, in nurturing them through this time, you may find strength as well.
Hello, my condolences to you and your family for the sudden loss of your husband. Not knowing how old your children are, it is good to keep in mind that grief shows up and is exhibited differently. Depending on the child's age, they have different concepts of death and how they respond. There are several online articles and resources that can help you understand the various developmental stages children go through and how they understand death. As for yourself, show some kindness and let yourself feel the hard emotions. If you are up to it, look up grief support groups in your area, they tend to be free. I would also suggest looking into counseling services that are offered at universities, churches, and non-profit agencies. Oftentimes, they provide free to low-cost services. I would also suggest talking to your doctor about the issues you are having, as they may be able to offer or suggest other possible resources.
Again, my condolences.
Again, my condolences.
Hi, I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. If you are to get help on your own due to finances, there are resources. Look for support groups - grief and loss. Many are free. Read about loss but also on how to rebuild yourself. Understanding the process of grief is important so that you don't become critical of your thoughts and feelings. And also continuing to nurture yourself to heal.
Grief is a process and takes time, remember that. To help manage difficult emotions many individuals will journal, join support groups, seek out new hobbies, exercise, and surround oneself with friends/family/positive supports. Additionally, give yourself time to express sadness and loss.
