Something has changed

I’m feeling better since the weekend. Nowadays, when I leave the office in the evening, I don’t feel like falling into this deep hole that I fell into day after day. Of course, I do cry here and there. And I don’t feel so bad about that. It’s a healthy thing to do. But my outlook is better now.

It changed after I visited a therapist on Friday night. Friday was a bad day for me. I cried ALL THE TIME. That was the case also when I was sitting in front of the therapist. But he is good! I left and felt relieved and felt that something can be done. I will definitely go back in two weeks. On my way home, when crossing the river, I decided to get off the tram and sit by the river for a while. The weather was wonderful and people just sat there, drank wine and enjoyed the sunset behind the city’s magnificent cathedral.

~ Evening sun, skyline, and the mighty Rhine river ~

It helps to be in this beatiful city. The people here love their city and the city wants to be loved. The picture above is proof for it. And not only that. Everyone I have met here so far is just so friendly and warmhearted. I really enjoy wandering through the city and talking to random people in the stores.

Then Saturday was just a great day for me and I came home exhausted and happy. That continued on Sunday. I had a very slow morning and then took my bike on a tour to a beautiful park and arboretum. I found a place to quietly read the weekend newspaper and then walked through the park a little bit. I had to fight back some tears. We both loved botanical gardens and rhododendrons which they had plenty of. But still, it was a wonderful day that I truly enjoyed!

Today’s achievements

Everybody tells me to take baby steps. I try. This is what I did today:

• I went for a run this morning, the first one since I got here. Mainly I was too busy trying to distract myself and I’m always afraid of thinking too much about the break-up when I’m by myself. I did shed some tears during the run. But I also enjoyed the beautiful nature around here.
• I left the house without my wedding ring for the first time. Not sure whether I will leave it at home every day from now on. Probably not. But it’s a start.
• I signed the contract for a smaller apartment. The current one is too large and expensive for just myself and far away from the city. (I thought that this was what you needed.) It means I have to move again very soon. But it will be good to be in a place that I found for just myself.
• I joined a city tour with Internations. It was fun to meet new people. Afterwards some of us went to have Libanese dinner. We had a great time!

Pretty big! It was a very good day and now I’m home and damn tired. It feels good!

The new life

This is week two of my new life. It’s been incredibly difficult to come this far. During the week after our break-up I packed almost everything in our apartment and moved away as planned. Except it wasn’t planned to leave without you. A whole new life started for me, but I’m still haunted by the last.

Sometimes I understand your decision. Most times I don’t. And sometimes I’m angry. At you for taking only a few days to end a relationship of nine years and that went through the most difficult time for the last 2 1/2 years. At your depression for making our marriage a series of terribly bad days and not letting us experience the good.

I’m still crying a lot. Not as much as in the beginning. But enough to make my head hurt every night. Sometimes it’s even hard to breathe. Sometimes I want to scream as loud as I can as if that would bring you back to me.

I’m scared of every new step that I’m taking because I’m taking it without you. And each step will take me further away from you.

I’m slowly getting used to not hearing from you. We texted and talked every day for the last nine years. And now we are not. I don’t know what you are doing and how you are doing. This is by far not easy but I’m getting there.

And sometimes I’m also hopeful. It never lasts long. I distract myself, don’t think of you for a while and do something fun. But as soon as I return to this large empty house I fall back into this deep deep hole of loneliness. Still, I can sometimes see where I want to go. So that one day I can be happy again. I will not have to worry about you anymore, about suicide attempts of yours. Some friends even say this may have been the reason why you broke up. I can find out what I need and what is good for me. Things that I mostly gave up during the last years. And maybe, one day, I will meet someone I can love again and who I can lean on when I feel weak.

On suicide, part II

Around 10.000 people commit suicide in Germany every year. That is roughly 30 each day. 30 EACH DAY! And every suicide leaves a family and friends behind that grieve. They probably cannot understand why their loved one had to go so soon and they are grief-stricken by the circumstances of his or her death.

The number of suicide attempts are assumed to occur 10 to 15 times as often. The actual number is unknown because not all suicide attempts are identified as such by helpers, relatives, and therapists. Just like your suicide attempts before December 2013 never became a topic between us. But every suicide attempt, once revealed, is shocking, for the patient and his or her relatives.

I can’t even begin to describe how relieved I am that you survived each attempt so far. But still I often ask myself “What if…?” Why did you even had to get so close to actually trying to die? I immediately start to cry whenever I think of how different my life would be today, had you actually succeded. I would be a widow, of only 32 years. I don’t even have the slightest idea of how to deal with funeral homes, authorities, and such. Your suicide would have taught me. I’m not sure if or how I could manage to go back to my life as it was. Would I have a break-down? How long would it take me to laugh again? What would I do with your side of the bed? Your clothes? Would I ever be able to watch a TV show, a movie or listen to music that we both like without starting to cry? Would I be able to go to the same bars or restaurants or streetfests where we used to go together? Would I ever dare to be happy again? Would I ever have a repationship again, when the past eight years with you were so happy that I could not imagine any reason for them to ever be over? And would there be a note explaining your decision to die? Would I understand your decision? Would it be clear to me that it was suicide or would there be the possibility that it was an accident? What cause of death would be easier to handle by those you left behind?

Of course I don’t know how it feels to lose a beloved husband, a person that I trust and who I’m so used to have around, who makes my days so much brighter. But these questions do make me grieve, although you are still alive. I can usually pull myself out of it. Most times I can tell myself that we are almost over this difficult part of your illness, that you are safe. But on some days, like today, all those questions haunt me.

4U9525

A little more than a week ago grief came to this country. A German airline lost an aircraft, part of its crew and 144 of its passengers. I can’t remember any severe accident that involved a German airline. All tragic air traffic accidents in the past seemed far away. This one feels close. An airplane coming from Spain, where so many Germans spend their holidays year by year. Sixteen families lost their teenage kids, high school students coming back from a student exchange. Many more lost parents, sisters, brothers, relatives and friends.

Two days later this tragedy reached yet another level. The French police announced that it was caused by the co-pilot, who deliberately crashed the airplane into the French Alps. All media attention then turned to the co-pilot. His appartment building and his parent’s home were shown in the news. Everyone discussed about how much his employer knew and should have known about his depression.

And my thoughts turned to the family of this very desperate co-pilot. I can only imagine how it must feel to loose someone you love through suicide. I cannot imagine how it must feel if the suicide took so many more people with him. And how terrible must it be to be confronted with all the media attention, including pictures, private details as well as false information and speculations about his health status and previous treatments.

And it seems that all the effort being done to promote an understanding of depression needs to start over again. Now, patients suffering from depression are considered potential mass murderers. Despite all knowledgable experts arguing against it. And despite not knowing (yet) what condition the co-pilot was in. It’s only the lurid headlines that count.