Welcome to Christian Widow's Walk

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for visiting. If you care to follow my story from the beginning, I encourage you to click on the oldest post first and make your way to newer entries. In so doing, hopefully, you will see the hand of God in my healing journey that started in April, 2009.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

No More Numbness ~ Part 2

Posted Mar 19, 2010 (11 months into widowhood)

In spite of all I shared in my last post, I have continued to feel the Lord’s presence, especially during my devotional time. The Lord’s faithfulness has not lessened in any way. God’s Word never promised happiness or pain-free days. His promise is always to walk with us in each and every circumstance...and He does, as we look to Him for comfort. The grief overflows each morning as I read the Carepage entry and relive those painful days from last year, one by one. The pain is intense, but I’m one day closer to being well again.

If I am ever in your presence and you notice glassy or tear filled eyes, please never feel uncomfortable or at a loss as to what you should say. Words are rarely necessary or even helpful sometimes, but a caring touch, or an invitation into the open arms of a friend is more powerful and healing than you can comprehend.

I am seeking the Lord for wisdom, to know if I should just let the mourning process take its natural course; which is my inclination, with the thought that starting the medication again might only serve to prolong the process. It is my heart’s desire to be whole, healthy and healing emotionally. It is my turn to take “baby steps” pushing me in the direction of wellness, day by day. I know my heart will not always be broken. I can continue to make the choice to choose whatever JOY the Lord has for me today. In the meantime, I feel it is healthy to let the pain out; a necessary part of the healing process. The Lord knows about and records each tear. Tears are a gift!

I have heard a saying lately: “Pain is inevitable, however, misery is optional”. Many of us have our own variety of brokenness. It comes in many shapes and forms. My prayer for you is that you will let the Lord help you also, to rise above your brokenness with His strength and His ever-present, never-ending, unchangeable love for you!

It is amazing to me, how therapeutic and helpful it is to write this journal. I started out feeling shaky and broken, but as I went on, I felt stronger and encouraged. Our God is so good! Thanking God for the gorgeous, sunshiny days lately. Just choosing to enjoy them in my pajamas and holey socks (see my last entry ~ Hairbrushes And Holey Socks)! My love to all of you!
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in Your record? Psalm56: 8
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18
I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27: 13-14

Saturday, May 4, 2013

No More Numbness ~Part 1

Posted Mar 19, 2010 (11 months into widowhood)

During Buck’s illness, I called my family doctor to request several medications for myself: one to help me sleep and one for depression, so I could be my best in order to be able to encourage my sweetheart. God provided amazing emotional strength during our journey, but I was weary and not holding up like I needed; desiring to be my Bofren’s cheerleading captain. I continued to use both of these medications until recently. After my weekend stay in the hospital in early December, (due to my strange visual disturbance), I was required to make a follow-up visit to my family doctor. I asked if perhaps we could change my depression medicine, because it didn’t seem to be working as well as it did at first. He thought that Seasonal Affective Disorder might also be playing a part in my condition. He recommended that I double the dosage instead. That made me so jittery, I couldn’t stand it, so I tried one and a half as an alternative. I gave the increased dosage a couple months to do its job, but never experienced any improvement.

I don’t know if it was my own thinking or inspiration from the Lord, but I made a decision to stop taking the depression medicine. I needed to know how I would function med- free and I wanted to know if some of my symptoms, such as fatigue and lack of motivation, were side effects from the drug. About six weeks ago, I called my family doctor for instructions on how to wean myself from the medication. It has been about ten days since I finished the weaning process…and I am an emotional mess, (in my opinion anyway)! I spoke to a counselor friend a few weeks ago, about my decision and she said the depression medications often numb the emotions. I realize now, that I just thought I was dealing with my grief, when in reality, I wasn’t feeling a great portion of it. I had frequent periods of sadness of course, but they were almost always attached to a trigger of some kind; sometimes tangible things and personal belongings… sometimes memories. Photos and music always had the most powerful effect and even more so now after eleven months of Buck’s absence. With no numbness or buffer to shield my heart, the full impact has finally hit home and I feel very sensitive emotionally.

I feel as though I have taken a giant step backwards, because I am finding myself in “pajama days” mode once again, and now my morning devotional time is the most painful, tear-filled part of the day, with daily “ugly cries” and noon finds me drained and emotionally exhausted. My stuffed bear: “Critter”,  gets plenty of use on a daily basis as my tear sponge and today I started wearing my towel around my neck again. In my Griefshare support group, we discussed the fact that it often takes six months to a year for our hearts to catch up to our minds, to adjust to the true reality of the loss of a loved one. Intellectually, we know immediately; emotionally, grace cushions our hearts until we can fully take it all in! We also talked about the fact that the second year is often more painful than the first. I was hopeful that I might escape that phenomenon, but it appears I will be no different.