Finding my silver lining

I truly believe that Josh knew he was going to die the day he was diagnosed. He had always been like that. He never saw the big picture, it was always then and now. And in that exact moment, they told him he had cancer. All he thought was cancer equals death. He didn't know when, he didn't know how, but he knew he was going to die. One of the biggest thing you should know about Josh is that he loved me and he loved me hard. I could never do anything wrong. If I broke his heart or hurt his feelings, he always had such a fast rebound rate. I, however, was the exact opposite. If he hurt me, I held it over him for days, weeks, or even months. But he was just amazing like that. He always had the purest heart. So the day he was diagnosed, I'm almost certain he was destined to give up. And I know for a fact had I not been there, he definitely would have. Deep in my soul I know that it wasn't the treatments keeping him alive for three years. It wasn't the medication. It wasn't the doctors. It wasn't anything except for the pure, unconditional love he had for me. He fought every day for me. I know this because he told me every single day he didn't know where he would be without me. I was truly his reason to live.

Because of all of this, losing him has been very hard on me. I have always been a pretty open person when it comes to my life and daily struggles. I have kept this blog as a open insight into everything we experienced through out his journey with cancer. Often times I felt compelled to be brutally honest. However, since his passing, I have become more and more reclusive. Aside from the blog or a random post on facebook, you will rarely see me mention publically my daily struggles with grief, anxiety, or depression. However, if you spend time with me, it is blatantly clear I am struggling. I tend to pick and chose who I show my grief to. About 90% of the time you will see me laughing, joking, and living my day to day life. I have coped well and on the outside, it seems I have my shit together. But because of this grieving tactic, I have received backlash for not "grieving properly." Some people couldn't understand how I was not completely devastated every moment of every single day. Now, I will say this, there are a few select people that completely get it. They are mourning in their own way and allowing me to do the same. But I was made to feel ashamed with how I was coping over the death, when in all actuality no two people grieve the same. I put my life into caring for him, I went above and beyond for him. I realize it was a difficult time for all, but I stepped up and stepped in when no one else would. I cleaned up vomit, diarrhea, blood. I helped him shower, I shaved his face, I gave him pedicures (he would kill me if he knew I said that, haha) and I dressed him. Towards the end, he couldn't walk very well. I carried him. I lifted him. I held his hand as he laid on the floor collecting himself from the fall he had just taken. Day in and day out, I was there. I earned the right to grieve anyway I damn well pleased. And I will be the first to admit it, I did feel this overwhelming sense of peace when he passed. It was almost like I was holding my breath for three years and when he took his last one, I too, finally released mine. It's an odd feeling, to sit there and feel at peace that your husband has passed and I often questioned "did I actually love him? Because I shouldn't be feeling this way if I did." The answer was always of course I did. I loved him so hard and so deeply that I was relieved he was no longer in pain.

My grief comes and goes in it's own way. My mood and emotions have been all over the place. While a lot of that has to do with grief, it's primarily what I had posted on facebook last week. As most of you know, I posted on facebook that I was 14 weeks pregnant. I received so much love and support because so many people just understood. It wasn't this big dramatic spectacle that was meant to hurt anyone. It was and still is a very important exciting time in my life and I wanted to share it with everyone. Understandably so, many people thought that it was Josh's baby. Many people knew that we had banked sperm at the start of his chemotherapy in Maryland. However, when he was diagnosed in October, he made me promise to destroy the sperm. He didn't want me using it because he didn't want me to have to witness my child potentially go through the same thing he did. It didn't matter that the cancer wasn't hereditary, he also carried Crohn's disease and that was enough for him to not want to pass along to his child. When he went into hospice, I had to get his affairs in order. I don't remember the date, but I know it was a Wednesday. In that day, I signed a Do Not Resuscitate order, I signed the paperwork for his funeral, I picked out his casket, and I signed the paperwork to have his sperm destroyed. It was hands down one of the worst days of my life. I knew that this was exactly what he wanted, but it broke my heart. I would never have a child by this man. Long after he passed away, I wouldn't be able to look at my child's face and see their father. I wouldn't get comfort in knowing that a part of him lived on. It destroyed me.

While I was supposed to destroy his sperm, I was also made to promise him that by the end of 2018, I would be pregnant. He wanted me to be a mom so bad as he knew it was something I really wanted. I hate to say it but literally weeks after he passed, I started looking into sperm banks. I was determined to do all of this on my own. You don't need a man (aside from the baby making process) to have a child. I was willing to spend as much as I needed to in order to get pregnant. I had found a few clinics and had started getting information on what steps I needed to take to start the whole process. This was the plan. I was going to go to a sperm bank, get inseminated with some random sperm and have a baby. In the midst of all of this, I had started casually dating. I mentioned this in my last blog so if you didn't read it, surprise, I'm human and required human interaction. The first guy I met, I immediately clicked with. While I won't go into detail about him and who he is, all you need to know is that Josh and him would have gotten along SO well it's kinda freaky. It was never the plan to get pregnant by him, but life just happens to work out like that. He's stuck by my side since and has been so great in taking care of me. I really couldn't have picked a better guy. A lot of people had a tough time with the timeline of this pregnancy. If you do the math, it seems way to soon after Josh's passing to throw myself into all of this. While I agree, I also have to point out that there is no right time to have a baby. I waited YEARS for the right time to come and it never came with Josh. So I did take matters into my own hands, pulled the trigger, and made a huge choice just a month or so after his passing. My grief for Josh is currently under control and it's something that will stick with me ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. It's something that will never go away. However, I know Josh is watching down on me, proud that I finally did something for myself and he's happy in knowing that I am happy. Because sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us.

Change, like healing, takes time.

Four months. How is that even possible? There are moments when I can remember everything so clearly. The way he smelled. The sound of his laugh. If I close my eyes hard enough, I swear I can still feel his hugs. There are these moments when I wake up in the morning and roll over still expecting him to be there. There are moments when I actually miss the doctors appointments, the sorting of the pills, the aminstrating chemo. It all gave me a purpose.

At the same time too, there are moments where I forget memories I had with him. There are moments where I am literally laying in bed thinking "holy shit, I did all that." It took me about a month or two after he passed for things to finally hit me. I remember sitting in my therapist office telling her "I did that. I cared for him 24/7. I gave him morphine. I helped ease his passing." That hit me like a ton of bricks and honestly there was a few weeks where I went through a depression. I felt as if I was responsible (in some way..) for his death. Crazy I know, but until you are in that position, you really don't know how those thoughts could come up. I knew deep down that the cancer killed him. It took him from me. But I felt in some way that I helped the cancer, that I sped up the process. I only expressed these feelings to a few people and time after time I was slapped with a dose of reality. I was told over and over again, I just helped ease his pain. Along with feeling all these new emotions, I was also bombarded with article after article about brain cancer and the new developments in it. My heart would constantly sink everytime I read about a new therapy or a new discovery. Though the funding for research is very sparces, I felt that every article that was coming out was coming out a little too late. I felt guilty. Why didn't I try to find new cures. New therapies. Why didn't I fight for his treatment? I was jealous. People after Josh will have a fighting chance, my husband didn't. I remember going to his grave and full on ugly crying. I'm talking snot running down my face, tears soaking my shirt, and hyperventilating. I kept apologizing over and over to him. I wish I had done more. Taken him to more specialists. Made him travel to different hospitals or doctors all in search of the cure. I found myself apologizing over and over again to him. I honestly think I was out there for at least a good thirty minutes just crying. I then took a moment, collected myself and felt this weight lift off of my shoulders. I didn't need to tell Josh any of this. I knew I did everything I could. In that moment I realized, life just happens. Just like he fought hard to stay alive for me, I fought hard to keep him alive. Eventually the feelings I have towards his passing will slowly fade away and I will only focus on the good times but right now it's something that I tend to still struggle with.

So what's new with me? Well, besides the random bouts of depression and anxiety, my life has been progressing pretty smoothly. I've found myself a routine, though some days are harder than others. I have gone out, mended friendships, and made new ones. I applied and interviewed for a job, much against my therapist suggestions. I had interviewed at a preschool and passed the initial interview with no problem. But then I had to actually be in the classroom for a "kid interview" and my anxiety took over. I won't mention where I interviewed because this place has a great reputation, but quite honestly, the staff was really rude to me which caused me to feel incredibly uncomfortable and I wasn't able to perform like I really wanted to. In all honesty, I am completely out of practice in the realm of teaching and after that experience I'm not entirely sure it's something I want to do anymore. I'm still applying and waiting for that dream job but right now I'm sitting comfortably taking time for myself.

I also experienced my first vacation without Josh. Of course I vacationed when we were younger without him but the moment we got married I never wanted to go on a vacation without him. It was hard bringing myself to do it but I forced myself. I was able to go on a seven day cruise with my other mother and her daughter. We went to Costa Maya, Honduras, Belize, and Cozumel and it was so much fun.

SIDE NOTE: This is the BIGGEST advice I can give anyone dealing with mental health. Please, please please educate the people closest to you on how to deal with your episodes. They have no clue and in the moment, you can't voice exactly what you need. Examples: I hate to be touched in general, but during an anxiety attack, I only like to be touched in a certain way. I prefer for someone to hold me either really tightly from the side or just wrap one arm around me and hold me close. I also hate when people console me. "Oh sweetie, it's okay. It will be okay. It's alright." Literally drives me crazy. So I prefer for no one to say anything. I also don't like it when someone points out the fact that I am having an attack. It sounds so asshole like, but I prefer for people to ignore me. Just allow me to go through whatever is happening, lend me an arm when I need it and don't say a freakin' word. Easy peasy! Prior to going I had to figure out ways to deal with my anxiety and depression. My therapist gave me a few tips. If I was overwhelmed, just leave the situation. If I was sad, allow myself to cry. If I was feeling depression coming on, redirect myself. So I walked into the cruise prepared to deal with all of that. What  helped the most is being with two people that knew exactly what to do when one of these "episodes" would come up.

Along with the first vacation, I also went on my first date. My stomach literally filled with butterflies when I wrote that! I have kept this all to myself (well minus a few friends that I called freaking out on what I should wear..where we should go...typical stuff haha) and now to put it out there publically freaks me out more. I was so paranoid when I agreed to go on my first date. What will people think? It's a small town, I'm bound to run into someone I know! But then, I thought about what Josh told me. And this is why I am including this part in my blog post. In October when Josh was diagnosed with another tumor, we were laying in bed talking about what if's. We talked about what would happen to the other one if one passed away. The joke between us from day one would go as followed. Josh: "I would never remarry and would probably take years for me to even date again." Me: "oh I would wait like..six months." We had always said that. It was meant to be funny. And I always said six months because I honestly never thought in a million years that I would actually be faced with the reality of not having him. But that night laying bed Josh looked at me and said "you need someone." It broke my heart and makes me want to cry right now even typing this. I asked him how long after he passes and he said "you'll just know." This has been hard for me to talk about because I feel like in so many peoples minds they will think its way to soon. Like I was waiting for my husband to pass away so I can start living my life. In the harsh truth of it all, I was. Josh never hindered me, but his situation did. I wasn't able to progress in life like most of my friends were. I was extremely jealous. And to be honest, I was extremely lonely. So I did download a few dating apps. I did go on a first date with a guy who I did click with. And Josh was right, I did know.

Now am I dating anyone? No way. Far from it. And there is no intentions of remarrying for me for years and years...and years. But it is fun dating, it's not as scary as I thought it would be and I have been on a few since. Each guy has been open to Josh and me talking about him. Each guy has been respectful of him (minus one, but he was a douche and we don't talk anymore) and each guy treated me very well. It's hard putting myself out there and right now I have actually slowed down to the point of not dating anymore. It comes in waves and I'm definitely taking everything extremely slow. I try extremely hard to not compare the current guy to Josh but I do make it a point to ask myself, would Josh like him? Would they get along? That helps a lot, and helps to ease my pain of "moving on to fast" because I honestly think that if Josh approved of the guy, he would be okay with what I was doing. He knew more than anyone how much love I have to give and he knew I have to share that with someone.

So like the last post, this one is simple; I'm getting back to me. What makes me who I am. I'm finding out new things. I'm trying new things. And I'm experiencing life. You always hear the cliche "I'm living my life for so and so" and while I don't think my dating experiences is really me "living my life for Josh" I do believe that there is a lot of things that I am doing that allows me to live my life for him. I carry his memory with me and I talk about him with everyone I meet.