Pretty sure it’s a real thing for a widow, even if she/he doesn’t witness the death. 

On the morning that Mitch died, I called him, probably 10-15 times. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. 

Now, any time I call Megan, and it goes to voicemail, I have a panic attack, and call again and again. 

My heart races.

Tears well in my eyes.

My mind goes to a dark place.

Every. 

Single.

Time.

I am not sure it will ever go away. The feeling of panic. The anxiety that overwhelms me, each time.  The urge to leave wherever I am, and get to the place of the person I am calling (Megan, Brady, my mom) and make sure they’re still alive. The anxiety doesn’t fade until I hear their voice, or see them, alive, well breathing. 

The loss of Mitch has hit me, like a ton of bricks, but, not all at once. It’s like a ton of bricks, thrown a brick at a time, one after the other, until I can’t take it anymore. Then I break down, and start it all over again, taking each hit as they come. Each pang of the heart. Each catch of my breath. Each new step. 

Just.

Keep.

Breathing. 

2 thoughts on “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

  1. I got home, walked in the door, and found my husband dead. Now if I walk in the door to my kids’ rooms while they are sleeping, as I enter the doorway I am certain I will find my kid dead. Not every time, but multiple times per week.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I always thought that IF my husband died before me, I’d be the one to find him. Well he did die before me, only he was alone and it was my oldest daughter (the only one not at work) to confirm our biggest fear. She also panics if I don’t answer my phone or texts (after several attempts). It’s not quite as bad for the other kids, but we all feel that pang from time to time. In 12 days, it will be 2 years and it hasn’t gone away yet.

    Liked by 1 person

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