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!

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.

The battle is lost

The battle is lost. Not yours, but mine. My loss is the foundation of your continious fight. Sometimes I can understand what happened yesterday when you told me you want to go on by yourself from now on. Most times, I don’t understand. You are still here. You are still my best friend. A friend like I never had before. And even after our break-up we feel close, we support each other. But I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that we will separate, divorce, live in different countries, on different continents.

Looking back at our nine years as a couple some incidents and patterns can explain your decision that you finalized this week. I tried to hear your opinions, tried to make decisions with you and not for you. It was difficult, you were insecure. But your great talent of covering up not only your depression also covered your insecurities. I never really knew the reason why I was the one making decisions for us while I was wishing for an equal partner. Your insecurities in relationships made you decide to go on from here by yourself. It’s the path you have chosen for yourself and I have to accept it.

Mistakes were made on both sides. And the depression brought out the best and the worse of us. Nobody is to blame for this, except this malicious illness of yours. I will tell myself that at least I could help a wonderful person and friend to go through clinic life and help recover from depression. All these therapies helped you find your way. For the first time you can make decisions for yourself without the thoughts of suicide in the back of your mind. I wish you all the best for the path you are going to take and I’m so deeply sad that my part in your life will not be the same anymore.

I’m packing boxes, separating your stuff from mine. Next week I will start a new life, in a new city, with a new job. It’s a life that was supposed to be ours. Now it will only be mine. We have one more week together and I have no idea how life on the other side of this week will look like. I’m on the floor crying, I cannot eat, I cannot sleep. Right now I cannot imagine having a restful day ever again. But experience tells us that it will be possible again, at some point.

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.