For the longest time I thought there was something wrong with me because I never really “missed” someone. Not in the sense that their absence caused me pain. I would miss things I once did or situations but people was not one of them. This feeling was made worse because the moment my husband would leave me he would text and ask “miss me?” I didn’t. I never missed him. I rationalized it that I knew he was coming back. Once he returned I would be just as content as if he wasn’t with me.
Some time in the past couple years I learned that this is a trait of ADHD. We don’t miss people like neurotypical people.
I say all that to say that I miss my husband. Immensely. It’s not an obvious thought it’s more in the little things, like when all I want to do is to talk to him.
I know that at this point I’m just a broken record. I will make the same complaints now that I will in a few months because this missing piece is just not coming back. I will try to replace it but nothing can or will ever replace the giant hole he left in my life. He was a huge presence.
With the holidays I feel this more and more. I’m stressing about money like I never have before, and all that does is make me think of my husband. I was the irresponsible one who spent like it was going out of style, but here I am taking up the mantle.
Today I am just filled with irritable rage. Everything and everyone infuriates me. Even being alone makes me angry. Nothing can appease the emotions bubbling inside my chest.
Within the literary community, November is known as Nation Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo.) In the past I have participated and even wrote my first novel during the event back in 2009. I enjoyed the process so much I subsequently wrote two sequels to that same novel. One was ABSOLUTE GARBAGE which will NEVER see the light of day and the other was so good it is the actual sequel.
The way it works is starting November 1st a wannabe writer sits down and clacks out 1,667 words. The idea is not to think, but to just write. I remember reading on their “official” website that you’re suggested to not even go back and re-read what you had previously written, as to not deter yourself by your internal critic. Although I have not seen that since and I have looked. Regardless, I have stuck tight to that rule. It keeps one focused on the task at hand and not worrying about prose or content but moreso on getting the story out. They also suggested writing down EVERYTHING one can think of for the story. Anything superfluous can be cut during editing. Build the world and characters in the moment. Focus on that more than anything else. Plus, it then makes hitting the daily word total a breeze.
I thought about participating but… November is a hard month for me what with my husband’s and my anniversary on the 1st, my birthday, and all the other celebrations that tend to happen in the same month. Now, it’s even more difficult because in addition to my birthday at the very beginning of the month as is my boyfriends. This year we began the month in Seattle traveling and I didn’t really have the time. I also didn’t really have an idea to write about.
That all changed a week ago.
As I was driving to work a story popped into my head based on the passing of my husband. Since then the narrative has been rolling around in my brain building itself up into a fully formed shape. Now, I am thinking about starting halfway through the month on typing it out just to see where it goes… The first NaNoWriMo I did was loosely based on a break-up with a boyfriend. Just told from the perspective of my ex. It was insanely cathartic. Not to mention it was fucking good. I am so proud of how it turned out. Why not use that same energy to handle my grief?
Today my phone actually connected to my car without me having to take any extra steps. It turned on my ipod and put all my entire library on shuffle. For the most part the songs were skippable with clips of stand-up comedy sprinkled in between. But when this song came on I stopped and started to ugly cry.
My husband loved Chris Stapleton in the last few years of his life. When his newest album at the time came out, he sent me this song as a “message” from him to me. It was the best way he could express his emotions because he was not someone who could say what he felt. Instead, he did it through songs. Which is why, when he would forget the songs he “dedicated” to me it broke my heart a little. I know he meant nothing by it, it was just his bad memory. Plus, I have a tendency to remember the most innocuous bullshit.
I like to pretend that this isn’t just some random happenstance, but that its my husband speaking to me from the beyond. Most who have lost someone do this. It’s so hard to let go to the people who were so impactful on your existence. Even when you had 4 years to get used to the idea.
After the election I could really, really use my husband’s voice to talk me through it and let me know that everything will be okay. I wish I could snuggle up next to him, rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. He’d put an arm around my back and hook it onto my shoulder. He wasn’t one for physical intimacy, so I had to grab it when and where I could.
His heart was so loud in my ear. I liked to think it was because he had a larger than normal one, in the cutesy way and not in the “this is a medical condition” kind. It would be slightly tarnished because after he passed, that was how I knew he was gone. I placed my ear to his chest and I couldn’t hear it anymore. He was gone. He had left after I began to panic that he was in pain and rushed to the kitchen, with Tony, to get the medication to keep him relaxed.
I was so worried during the first Trump disaster than gay marriage would be repealed and I would lose our marriage. Luckily it didn’t happen. Instead he was diagnosed with a terminal illness and he was physically taken from me. Maybe having our marriage nullified would have been better… But he would have been diagnosed regardless. So I guess I should take the “win.”
It’s weird, how this song absolutely applies to me now. I’m entering into my 40th year of life. And there isn’t any pot of gold. Just a lake of shit and death.
The night of the election I genuinely thought about taking an entire bottle of pills. It was quickly dismissed by two things. One, was the promise I made to my husband before he died. He wanted me to keep living and have lots of adventures. With my word given… I would be more devastated by breaking it than dying. Two, I won’t give these fuckers the satisfaction. I’d rather stick around and annoy them. Kick them in the nuts if I get the chance. Maybe punch a couple of the nazis if I get the chance.
Only time will tell.
I just wish I had my best friend with me. The “Josh Whisperer.” He knew what to say and do to soothe the unruly beast that lives within my thoughts.
Today my heart is aching, along with my stomach. My entire abdomen is nothing but dull pain. The stomach thing started Wednesday morning… I don’t know if it’s just my anxiety ratcheted up to a hundred or what. I don’t want to be some insane person who shows up at the Urgent Care with an upset stomach when it isn’t anything serious. What if it is just nerves? Anxiety? Stress? But then again… why bother going when I honestly don’t care if I live or die anymore?
It’s not sharp it’s just annoying. It was sharp Wednesday morning and has since dulled. I’ve tried taking anything related to stomach issues and it’s still there. Thus… I assume it’s just anxiety. Life is shit right now. Has been for the last fucking 8 years. And the horizon just looks like raging fire and smoke. With any luck I’ll have stomach cancer and it’ll take me away from this hellscape. With my luck though I’ll reincarnate the next day to the child of a MAGA mormon family…
The Journal of a Jaded Josh 