Profound Loneliness

Yesterday I spoke to someone about the loneliness I have felt, and I realised I can handle about 90 percent of it pretty well, it’s the 10 percent that is profound loneliness that I cannot. Nothing touches it. Nothing. No amount of prayer or company touches it. It’s excruciating. I am convinced it is part of being widowed and one minute being wonderfully married and having all the intimacy that anyone could ever want and the next minute it is all stripped away. When the profound loneliness hits there nothing I or anyone else can do but let it take it’s painful toll upon me. It’s unlike anything else I have experienced. I give it to God but nothing changes, it still comes and goes as it chooses. Glad I told someone yesterday. I strangely feel like even though they haven’t been widowed they might know a little of what I mean. I think even if someone isn’t lonely but they have been in the past they can tell loneliness when they see it. And I’m grateful I’ve been seen. Very grateful ūüíēūüíē.

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Ciao!

Tonight is the eve of what should be our 10th wedding anniversary. I write this from St Peters Square in Rome. Couldn’t face waking up tomorrow in the house knowing we should be celebrating so spontaneously treated myself to a trip that would immerse myself in a different world. My gosh it’s beautiful. Tomorrow I am going on a tour of the Vatican. Eek! I am also going to drink some San Pellegrino water in the county of its origin for John as that was one of his favourite drinks. Yesterday I woke up at 6:30 and cried until silent meditation and all the way through it till 8:45 then stumbled through morning prayer, did an 8 hour shift, then cried for another hour before bible study, but thankfully no tears since. So here I am. Grateful to God for this opportunity and for His grace and mercy on my life. Grateful that I did marry John and we had a wonderful life together which I wouldn’t have swapped for anything. So tomorrow I will remember fondly such a magical day when we were married. I can’t tell you how happy I was, my face hurt from smiling so much. And tomorrow I’ll raise a glass to my beloved John.

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My Autobiography (of my life with God) by someone else.

I discovered a song by Nichole Nordeman a few weeks ago and it is almost as if she wrote the autobiography of my life with God with it. It’s such deep theology in it, it’s left me floored.¬† Anyway here is it. I changed two words in it to fit better with my story but other than that it is untouched, I have just put the dates by the places the lyrics fit with.

 

This is where your ship went down                    6th Feb 2017

Right there, stern and bow

You took on waves, took on water

You took the blame, even harder

You drug a net across the ocean floor

Just rubbish and a broken oar

You washed on shore beneath the moon

And I’m not sure you want me to

But I’ll put you back together

Hush, hush                                                              March

You don’t have to have the answers¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†April

Hush, hush                                                             May

I will gather all the branches                             June

I will light a fire for you                                      July

Rest your head ’til you’ve had rest enough¬† ¬† August

Hush, now hush                                                   September

Hush, hush                                                            October

It’s worse in the light of day¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†November

It hurts the things they say                                December

You wrote big letters in the sand                      January

You watch the sky and wave your hands       February

But I love you if they never come                     March

I love you in the scorching sun                         April

One cup of water at a time                                 May

‘Til you remember you are mine¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†June

And I will love you back together                     July

Hush, hush                                                             August

You don’t have to have the answers¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†September

Hush, hush                                                             October

I will gather all the branches                             November

I will light a fire for you                                      December

Rest your head ’til you’ve had rest enough¬† ¬†¬† January

Hush, now hush                                                    February

Hush, hush                                                              March

One cup of water at a time                                   April

‘Til you remember you are mine¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†18th May 2019

I am the calm, I am the sea

Your rescue and recovery

And I am the storm that swallowed you           6th Feb 2017 & 25 July 2018

I let you bleed, I thought you knew                    6-10th July 2018

And I am the bottom, and I am the floor           September-October 2018

I am the deep you never knew before               1st November 2018

I let you sink and I let you go                               13th March 2018

But I caught you in the undertow                      14th October 2018

And I am the shore, and I am the flame

And mercy is My name                                        5th May 1983 till forever.

Hush, hush

Hush now

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My suspicions were correct…

A couple or a few blog posts ago I mention how I feared that I hadn’t properly grieved my sister’s death. Turns out I was right. Today I got a text saying her cat isn’t well and only has a few days left to live. I am absolutely broken, distraught, mashed up. Totally wiped me out. I know this level of emotion it’s not about a cat. But the thought of him going to be with his mummy (My Sister) is like someone knifing me repeatedly in my guts. Why does he get to see her before me? How can it be that she’s not here? I’m pretty certain that when the time comes for Alfie and/or Eric (My Yorkshire terriers) I will be the same in regards to John. My hearts desire is to see John or Paula that’s all I want and I’m so envious that max the cat will soon be reunited with her and I have to wait it out here. Unfair is an understatement. And yet at the same time I’m please for the cat, I’m happy for Paula that she will have her Max back on her lap. (Please don’t engage in a theological argument about pets in heaven at this point and just indulge me, thanks!) I’m pleased that soon max won’t be in any pain as he’s been ill for a good few years but has limped on, and actually was so helpful when Paula did pass as he was like a connection to her and now we are losing him as well feels we are losing another connection to my sister. I know that is not true but that’s how it feels. I’m meant to be writing my essay which is due in on Monday after an extension and I have no idea how I meant to do that now…. I just want to go back to bed, I’m exhausted. It’s 10:46 am. Grief is such a tsunami at times it destroys all in its path. Problem is I don’t have the time for it right now. I have to get on, I have to get this essay in or else my degree is in jeopardy, and that makes me more sad. Vicious cycle. I currently have estate agents, surveyors, and solicitors chasing me and I can’t deal with any of it. Somebody make the madness stop please. Please. Lord have mercy, cause if You don’t no one else is gonna.

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Same Place, different story.

Yesterday I went to a service at Manchester Cathedral. I knew it was around this time of year that I posted this blog post – https://vickmcq.com/2017/04/19/flawed/ in 2017, what I hadn’t realised was it was on exactly the same week! It’s almost as if God brought me back there at the same time of year to remind me of how far I have come and how much (of what I perceive as) a miracle has happened. If you’ve read the blog post from 2017 I was in such a bad place in my faith. I actually think I was at the lowest I have ever been, it doesn’t necessarily come across in the blog but I really was about to ditch the whole lot. I was in so much anguish I didn’t know how I could continue on with God and was fearful that my faith was over for good. I prayed that somehow by some way God would make it that I didn’t walk away from Him, but I couldn’t see anyway. I told Him my desire is to love Him and serve Him as best I can every single day and I truly never want to let Him go, but I couldn’t see a way ahead. I sat in the Cathedral and cried bitterly for quite some time. 2 years and almost to the day I am back in the Cathedral, and all I could think about was that day and how different the two days were.

Last time I was alone, this time with new people who have become dear friends. Last time bitter, fearful, and filled with grief fuelled sadness, this time laughing as I walked in the Cathedral, some how articulating hopefulness and heart bursting with love for God. This much I can tell you, I NEVER expected this. It was such a lovely time yesterday and I am so grateful. And if you are wondering, No I didn’t get ANY of the answers I asked God in 2017 and now they are not so important to me either. For God to give me the answers I require He would probably have to explain the whole universe and the whole of history leading up to this point, and my little brain couldn’t handle half a morsel of that. I did walk past the chair where I sat in 2017 and I gave it a little wink to physically acknowledge the difference between the 2 years.

There’s still loads going on for me with the house and I’m still struggling with grief to do with John and my sister but me and The Lord are tight. Long may it continue.

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Hoping.

Nearly wrote the title of this post as hopping, those of you who know the footprints poem joke about hopping will appreciate the irony. I don’t want to put the horse before the cart, but maybe, slightly, almost-ish, I might be starting to like my life again. Big development I know. A number of things have prompted this, and I’m also aware that there is still so much going on. Today has been such a mixture of emotions. Went to view a property and thought that it would be perfect for me, but don’t want to get my hopes up as haven’t sold my house so… but then I met one of my new friends from church and had a really good time, and I went out the other week with one of my friends from work. I feel like life is picking up a little, but I am also not out of the woods by any stretch of the imagination. Best case scenario (Please God, let this be prophetic!…) I sell my house for a good price, buy the property I have seen this morning, go on a holiday once settled in, then come back ready to engage fully with life again, start looking for a new different job and crack on with my degree.¬† Life rarely goes the way we want it to but I’m hoping for a short time even at least it will do. Once I’m in my new property and settled crap can begin again but I’m in desperate need of something going my way at the minute, and new friends are definitely helping me at the moment. I truly didn’t realise how just how heartbreaking selling the house would be, I knew it would be hard but not quite this hard. I cried when someone put in an offer even though it was too low, and then I cried after seeing and loving the property I saw this morning. I think its why I’m so worn out at the minute. Grateful to be going and seeing an old friend tonight, and I’m hoping it will be uplifting. Part of me is desperate for the limbo I have been in since John passed away to be over, and I think that’s why I am so emotional, emotional that its finally might be coming to an end but emotional in a way that I am moving forward (not on, I could never move on from John). I have to trust God with all of this once again, cause the potential that everything could just to fall to the ground and I’m left without anything is the same real and visceral threat since the moment John passed away. Must go and get ready for this evening.

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Safe.

Therapy today stirred up so much in me, and maybe the whole week, being Mother’s day on Sunday has made me think about a lot of different things. Certainly, my therapist picked up on something bubbling away within me and traced some of my thoughts. On the way home I really started to look at my life and was just devastated by the last two years, and then I began to think of my life as a whole and how I have ended up where I am, and I just feel really crap about it. Swung by church and sat in my car outside it. I went through a period last year and earlier this year where I was sitting in my car outside church almost every day at some point be it early morning, late evenings, after work and randomly in the afternoons, but haven’t done it for a while so it felt a bit strange. I’ve had two panic attacks in the house when I have really cried recently and I thought I know I feel safe at church so if I go there and I cry it might not lead to a panic attack.¬† And sure enough, it didn’t and I cried a lot. I absolutely sobbed till I couldn’t sob anymore. It’s strange that I don’t feel safe in the house any longer. I knew it would change when my lodgers moved out, but this level of uncomfortableness really isn’t pleasant. I wonder if it is cause I am selling it and trying to let go? I don’t know. The only hope I have for my life is to trust God. There is literally nothing else. I’m tired of it seeming like there is this big blank space in front of me and I’m in desperate need of some direction and focus. Some people might desperately want a big blank space in front of them to do whatever they want and not have anything planned, that for some would be a relief and an opportunity, but for me, it isn’t. For me it’s scary, I’m pleading with the Lord to help me. Give me something. Something solid. Something that I can work towards that’s tangible, cause I honestly just feel adrift without a paddle. I’m not saying life was planned out in fine detail with John, however, it didn’t really matter then cause whatever came we were together and that’s what mattered. Now I’m alone it’s totally different. Lord, I can’t be adrift much longer, you got to do something, step in, speak, whatever, you know what it is. I’m begging.

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